picture-it-write-40; Each Tock

—

—

—

Each Tock

I caressed my grandmother’s paper-skin face. She  was weary and trembling. How much longer did she have to live? I watched as the life leaked out of her, in the form of tears. I gripped onto her hand. With the last morsels of energy, she pulled something out from the drawer and dropped it into my palm. It was a peculiar watch, with a rib-cage for the cover. “Use it wisely,” she whispered and she never spoke again.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

I stared down at it as the tears flowed from my eyes, remembering the poem she had recited to me when I was still just a child;

With each tock
of the clock
minutes go by

Never still
hours will
just seem to fly

The time’s set
don’t forget
before you die

In their sum
dreams won’t come
if you never try!

Somehow, at this very moment in time, within the anguish of my grief, I heard her sweet voice saying those words once again.  I always had wondered, then in my youth, what it all really meant.  Now I know!

Teresa Marie  8/25/12 ©

__picture it & write by Ermilia

picture-it-write-39; Under the Spell

-Collecting youth. by alexstoddard on Flickr.

The sharp nail scraped my chin. It may as well have been a blade as the lethal, gritty edge punctured my skin. With my half closed and yet fluttering eyes, it was hard to see the person before me. I wanted to run but I needed the money. I needed to seal this deal. The darkness was thick and appeared to pulse rapidly, just like my wild heart. “Lavish in your newly acquired riches,” the gravelly voice spoke, from neither a man or woman but something much more hellish. “But the clock is ticking and I will collect.” The gnarled finger caressed my cheek and I shuddered.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

 

http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2012/08/19/__picture-it-write-39/

picture it & write # 38; The Fog

The burning sun crept over the horizon. The heavy silence hushed my trembling whimpers. The tendrils of the unwavering fog caressed the bridge. My shivering hands grasped the rails and peered over, it was a kilometre drop at the very least. I pulled back and pushed away the stubborn tears that leaked from my eyes. I watched as my father trudged into the fog. If only I hadn’t been so rash… he wouldn’t of taken the fall for my actions. “Please come back,” I begged. It was the last time I ever saw him. The fog never returned its victims.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

__picture it & write by Ermilia

picture it & write # 37; Why

– bath ..
by ~aida-julia

I ran the heavy wet cloth over my shoulders. The water, although once scalding hot, had turned lukewarm. Scattered droplets on my body cooled within seconds. I was only delaying the inevitable and yet it took an hour for me to finish my bath. I didn’t want to face what was to come. I wanted the seconds to suspend themselves. Despite all my desires to halt time, it continued on, unperturbed. My life was about to be changed forever, whether for better or worse, and there was nothing I could do about it.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2012/08/05/__picture-it-write-37/

picture it & write #36; Slither

My dry tongue sat heavy and fat in my mouth. It felt impossible to swallow. Somehow, by some supernatural ability, I was able to continue stumbling across the desert. Peering over the dunes I noticed a few figures. I blinked repeatedly but my vision would not clear. The haze blurred their identities so I didn’t know if they were friend or foe. At this point, it didn’t matter. I used the last morsels of energy to make my way towards them. When I looked up again, there was no one except heat waves rippling along the horizon like snakes.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

__picture it & write by Ermilia

picture it & write #35; Giselle

Round and round the little girl spun. Her ivory locks bounced as she twirled in front of the golden mirror. Light trickled through the stain glass window and illuminated only her in the barren room. Unstuck mortar crumbled off the aged bricks. It didn’t bother her because she was transfixed on her image. An angelic smile had been carved on her face, forever to stay. Months dissolved into years, and yet she stayed fixed to her image. Each step had to be perfected, every smile, and every twinkle of the eye. Round and round the woman spun, forever wishing to be more.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2012/07/22/__picture-it-write-35/

picture it & write #34; Sylvia Said

The deadly smoke danced up towards the ceiling as if trying to escape from her crimson lips. The smell of nicotine was pungent as it seeped through the black satin gloves she wore. Sylvia didn’t know why she bothered to come on board to this cruise, it was full of hot air and nothing more. The grand hall was littered with generals, lords, ladies and other members of the elite. The men whose eyes danced in her direction blubbered with loose, deeply intoxicated smirks.

Out from the crowd a robust man caught her eye. Within seconds he advanced towards her, Sylvia averted her eyes and inhaled the cigarette deeply. “My sweet pearl, Sylvia,” The man leaned in towards her, his cheek felt like sandpaper and she could smell his abhorrent breath. “Dance with me.”

– Ermisenda Alvarez

http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2012/07/15/__picture-it-write-34/

picture it & write #33; I Knew

– Invaders by *syda-ginger

We shared wet, warm kisses. My lover caressed my neck with her lips. While I faced the windshield I noticed a vague outline. Who was standing there? “What’s wrong?” My lover cooed. Suddenly, she gasped in shock. I turned the key in the ignition and the lights flooded the standing figure. The sight of my exposed daughter shivering in the silent night paralysed me. Tears streamed down her face. There was blood on her neck. I jumped out of the car and rushed to embrace her. My heart was beating furiously in my chest. Unexpectedly, I felt a painful pinching sensation on my neck and pushed her away. My blood dripped from my daughter’s lips before she let out a demonic screech.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

 

http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2012/07/08/__picture-it-write-33/

picture it & write; Decisions

Which one should I choose? A couple dozen keys were littered out in front of me. The elderly woman with gnarled hands and a crooked nose spread them out. This couldn’t be real. Surely it was just hocus pocus. But, what if it wasn’t? The woman stared at me intently, waiting for my choice. “All I want is a new start,” I sighed. These keys wouldn’t help that journey. The woman responded in a hoarse voice, “What do you value most, young man?” Dreams, love, heart, memory, life, wealth, health… and countless more keys glistened. I wanted to grab them all. Which one should I choose?

– Ermisenda Alvarez

http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2012/07/01/2952/

Picture It & Write #30; It Stormed

-By Bob DeHoff

She gripped onto her flimsy cardigan which billowed violently due to the temperamental winds. She stared out. The ship left a milky white trail as if a snail. There was nothing in sight. The bruise of clouds that discoloured the skies growled. Soon there would be rain, she shut her eyes. Her fingers hesitantly touched her abdomen. The baby was lost. It was now a lost fragment of who she had been. An insignificant ripple in the tumultuous ocean of her past.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2012/06/24/__picture-it-write-30/