Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
2005-10-27 vespers, 62 degrees. 37 in Jamestown and Salamanca, NY. I love it when I see snow flurries in the forecast at this time of year for a place where I don't live. My cousins can deal with it. Did Tea at Three. Printed out the three items I wrote yesterday and some others. The bright orange paper seemed appropriate. 2005-10-27 afternoon, 61 degrees. 81 in Bluefields, Nicaragua. Now that Beta (to you, Yvette to me) has formed east of the Rio San Juan del Norte, one can only hope it hits land before it becomes a monster storm. At this point it is expected to be a category 2 hurricane in a couple days. It will be breezy in Bluefields tomorrow. Here it is very nice. Well, Tehanu liked my flash fiction! Not my strength, but I guess it could be. The line between prose poem and flash fiction is blurry. Flash fiction wants setting, character, dilemma and resolution all under 300 words which makes it seem like a vignette. Prose poem wants a vignette, an epistle, something short, say <500 words that uses the language to evoke emotion. It doesn't need to use rhyme, alliteration or meter; although, any of the above are fine. It need not be narrative nor have a character. Plot is irrelevant. I guess I'll have to look at some of the stuff I've written to give examples. SENSED YESTERDAY: Like a still life: a cup of water with a sunflower, a pencil, a scrubber, Ajax cleaner, bleach spray bottle, three sponges (two blue, one violet), a pink coffee stained notice now illegible, Re-juv-nal. |