Ink Of Her Blood – Micro Fiction

Mike Hindle on Unsplash

Imprisoned by inquisitors for arcane knowledge. Waiting for the fire. She penned her story on bedsheets with the ink of her blood.

© RedCat


Örebro Castle, Sweden
Philip Myrtorp on Unsplash

Written for this weekends writing prompt by Sammi Cox.

Örebro Castle is the castle of my childhood. Forever sparking my imagination.


Click here to read other stories by me.


Chestnut Trees – Flash Fiction

PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox

” – It’s nothing to worry about, just a little wind. “

Little did he know it was a storm sent by vindictive spirits. Upset by the way he’d ignored the law of the land.

He’d come back from studying abroad, saying we needed to do things like modern folks did. Taming nature to our ends, not relying on her blessings. So he dammed the rivers and chopped down the woods to make workhouses spewing smoke day and night. When the wise ones cautioned him, he called them silly old soothsayers.

In the morning. Not one of his prized chestnut trees still stood.

© RedCat


Georg Eiermann on Unsplash

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers.

Click here to participate or read more stories.

Morpheus Speaks – Flash Fiction


Welcome to the labyrinth of dreams. Here the hallways twist and turn, intersections changing place at the speed of thoughts. Doors switch location in the blink of an eye.

You’ll travel here every night of your life. So there’s plenty of time to get to know the place.

Beware of old nightmares skulking in the shadows. They’ll stalk hesitant dreamers, hunt them with figments of their darkest fantasies. Watch out for time vortexes that’ll trap you in flashback loops as the real world moves on.

The intrepid explorer will in time form a thought-feel map of the place. Able to move between emotional spaces. Learn what a dream teaches, then move on to the next. The unaware wanderer is prey to the tug of war between nightmares and sweet dreams.

Remember! Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.

© RedCat


Tonight it’s time for a monthly favorite at dVerse – Prosery. Where we write prose, not poetry, incorporating a given line from another work and not exceeding 144 words. 

Tonight’s line is “Crucial to finding the way is this: there is no beginning or end.” from Joy Harjo’s “A Map to the Next World.” I strongly recommend reading the poem, it blew me away!


Photo by FLY:D on Unsplash

Daily Haibun – May 26th


It’s been pouring rain all day. Grey, windy and wet.
Making me want to light a fire in the hearth and
curl up on the sofa with a good Gothic ghost story.

Wind blown sheets of rain
Tears chilling both heart and bone
I seek warmth with you

©RedCat


Been pondering something small I can write daily for some time now. Something that allows me to be both poetic and personal. So decided to try Haibun’s for a while. Let me know what you think.

“The Haibun form consists of one to a few paragraphs of prose—usually written in the present tense—that evoke an experience and are often non-fictional/autobiographical. They may be preceded or followed by one or more haiku—nature-based, using a seasonal image—that complement without directly repeating what the prose stated.”

from dVerse

For more information on the Haibun form read this article on poets.org or the Wikipedia entry.


Read other Haibun’s written for the monthly dVerse prompt by me here.

Read other Daily Haibun’s here.



Bright Flower Moon – A Haibun

Photo by Ash Ashley on Unsplash

Oh, how I longed for
magic returning under
the bright flower moon

The trees are that verdant spring green.
The fields are bursting with wildflowers.
The fiery passionate energy of spring is all around.
Buds bursting, animals mating, migratory birds sing their joy of returning to the lands of pale lighted summer nights.
Lifting the dark moods of winter, inviting renewal, change and growth.
Waking the song of lust and passion in my heart and soul.

Oh, how i wished for
a dream to become real
Now doubt, is it true?

©RedCat



Written for tonight’s Haibun prompt over at dVerse. Haibun Monday 5-24-21: Flower moon

“The Haibun form consists of one to a few paragraphs of prose—usually written in the present tense—that evoke an experience and are often non-fictional/autobiographical. They may be preceded or followed by one or more haiku—nature-based, using a seasonal image—that complement without directly repeating what the prose stated.”

from dVerse

Read other Haibun’s by me here.


Photo by Mak on Unsplash

Stardust Souls

NASA/SDO/AIA, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

We stardust souls are eternal, yet needing a flesh costume to affect and interact in the physical world. So we subject ourselves to the death-rebirth trauma of being born, forgetting most of our knowledge and wisdom in the process.

Then we grow and learn what we can in a lifetime. Laughter and joy. Friendship. Hope and despair. Love and hate. Pain and anguish.

When the flesh grows weak and old, we die and remember everything from the beginning of time. Remember the reason we undertake life again and again. Only to once again choose the flesh costume. Hoping this time we’ll be able to awaken the flesh’s animal soul enough to impart some of our wisdom. Knowing that all we can hope to become, are messengers. 

Only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things.

© RedCat


Written for Prosery: Here’s the thing about existing at dVerse. Where we write prose, maximum 144 words, incorporating a line of poetry.

Tonight’s line is from a favorite poet.

“Only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things? – from Rainer Maria Rilke, “Heartbeat.”


The Magic Bookshop

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash

I found a bookshop. The window full of fantastic drawings. The door sign read.

If you are a dreamer, come in. 
Throw doubts, rules, reason in the bin. 
Here fanciful ideas are not a sin.

Knowing Mother would disapprove, I went in.
Books everywhere. Spilling off shelves. Stacked on the floor.

– Can I help you? he an old man creaked.
– Don’t fret, he continued. 
– I’ll find the book you need in no time.
Then disappeared among the books.

He returned with a small book.
– This is for you dear. Within it you’ll find your way to happiness.
– How much? I managed.
– Oh, nothing right now. Just be sure to come back when you’ve written your first book.

Then he bustled me out the door.

I went home. The little book, heavy in my pocket.

That night I started writing, and I haven’t stopped since.

©RedCat


Written for Meet me where the sidewalk ends… this month’s Prosery prompt at dVerse. I don’t think I ever chafed so much under the 144 word limit as this time. I wanted to describe both the bookshop, the purveyor and the reaction of the I in the story to much greater detail. Well who knows, one day I might find the right reason to write a much longer tale of it.

In Prosery, we have to write prose, and incorporate a line from a poem. This time the line was from Shel Silverstein’s poem, Invitation, as published in his wonderful book, Where the Sidewalk Ends. I have never heard of him before but after reading the poems in the prompt and the 21 I found here, I now want to read everything and check if he’s been translated to Swedish so my kids can read him too.

“If you are a dreamer, come in”

Shel Silverstein

Click here to read other stories by me.


About the artist to door picture, written by David Clode on Unsplash:

My Mum, Sian Butler, has painted a series of lovely cottages, inspired by what she sees in Tasmania, but also influenced by her living in the UK years ago. They combine a mixture of techniques and textures to produce lively acrylic paintings. Sian is best known for her Australian Outback paintings (she has traveled all around and throughout Australia). Sian is very generous, and delights in sharing her paintings on the internet. She is now eighty, and continues to go from strength to strength, inspiring all those around her with both her paintings and her life.

A Dream within a Fantasy – Flash Fiction

Photo by Frank Cone from Pexels

Is this a dream? Am I dead? Have those small paper squares of my youth laid dormant in my mind?

Suddenly there’s a voice.

“Calm down. This is a dream within a fantasy. A peek behind the veil. You’ve been searching. Trying to make sense of everything. Express that which narrow minds can’t even experience. Connect with the shared unconscious. Find the reasons behind the reasons for your existence.
It’s lonely being alone in empty vastness. So I lit a spark, watched it explode into being, filling itself with beings. Until the vastness teemed with life.
Letting me know how it is to have a finite life, a body, a loving heart.”

Suddenly, sun in my eyes, my own bed. In my notebook what I wrote last night.

“I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility that existence has its own reason for being.”

©RedCat


Written for Prosery: Possibilities at dVerse. Where we write prose with a maximum of 144 words, and incorporate a given line. Tonight that line is: 

I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility that existence has its own reason for being.

Wisława Szymborska, “Possibilities

Photo by Alex Andrews from Pexels

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