The profound sense of loss came even before You’d unladed the anchor. You cast away, An unmoored vessel, without a true north, Approaching nothing but the fabled horizon. With every dark and dreary dusk, turbulent Tempest, and scorching summer’s day, There’s impetus to turn around (And on some days you do). Yet when … Continue reading Unmoored
Author: misstinypurple
I graduated in 2016 from the University of Michigan, with an M.E in Energy Systems. Microprose is my forte: a form of writing that restricts word counts to as little as 13 words. I currently live in California, pursuing a career in clean energy, whiling away my time before I can become a full-time storyteller. Some of my favourite things are walking on crunchy leaves, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, fluffy puppies, boba tea, murder mysteries and conversing with captivating humans.
A wise woman once taught me: to laugh often and much, to win the affection of intelligent people, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better-- that is to have succeeded in life.
Apologies for the Inconvenience
Designated drivers are hard to come by, Streaming services shift to individual accounts, Duplicate kitchen utensils transfer out of storage, Stubbed toes and burned tongues no longer meet Chuckles at each other’s expense and Yet, the most sought after void is that of a chai-time partner So the milk and water proportions go back to … Continue reading Apologies for the Inconvenience
Wanderlust
Throbbing soles of feet leave her Itching for the steam of fragrant baths, The exhaustion of holiday chatter Reminds her of the comfort of her couch. The silence of bedroom walls so deafening That she longs for the din of concert halls. A late night out in the city versus An early … Continue reading Wanderlust
Some Assembly Required
Eyes meet, sparks fly, the fox-trot begins, Dreams are painted, vows are exchanged, The spaces between lines are nothing more. Time weathers, tensions build, expectations rise, Bonds unravel, stitches come undone, The spaces between lines become something more. How do we turn back time when This union lacks an instruction manual, Even though the packaging … Continue reading Some Assembly Required
Overcorrection
It was a cool autumn beginning, Not so much rushed as distracted By vehicles perceiving the fog rolling in. Up ahead a car appears weaving through traffic, Brake lights blinking sporadically, Lurching to stay on course as though Overcorrecting for lapses in judgement. Perhaps this is what life looks like to observers, That perspective of … Continue reading Overcorrection
Inhalation
‘Try to relax,’ I advised, dipping my fingers into the tub of lavender oil. He shifted about nervously, face planted firmly in the hole. I could tell I was his first. How flattering. It’d been a while since a virgin had walked through my doors. I rubbed my hands together vigorously, trying to warm them … Continue reading Inhalation
Mr. Branson
Do you smell that? The geranium, lemon, jasmine and freshly watered grass — It’s the scent of weekday schedules with hipster tendencies. Do you see that? Above: the moon that often kept us company, Through whispered conversations in your car, revisits me. Do you hear that? The twilight calm of a neighbourhood that … Continue reading Mr. Branson
As If
The gate opened with a slow creek, of its own volition. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ I thought, ‘A cemetery gate that has a mind of its own? I guess the universe thinks I’m a white protagonist in a horror film.’ I glared at the gargoyles towering above me. ‘No thank you,’ I hollered, … Continue reading As If
The Heir Apparent
He wasn’t the first to seek my favour in Fangorn Forest; Many a knight-errant had stumbled through, in pursuit of excellence. He resembled a child entertaining a tiger cub with a long stick, Rather than a warrior fending off an apex predator. I was particularly indifferent to his beauty - His locks parodied Absalom’s infamous … Continue reading The Heir Apparent
Granger, Hermione
It was pouring outside.She’d been away so long, she almost didn’tFind the turnstiles at King’s Cross. Her hand twitched to the wand in her pocketEverytime someone looked her way;The defensive instincts from the past yearWould take a while to tame. When Mrs. Granger finally opened the door to her,She was ambushed by a sopping wet hugFrom a … Continue reading Granger, Hermione
