Second blog -- answers to an ocean of prompts |
Prompt: Let's have a bit of flash fiction...short story of no more than 50 words. Our topic is a hair cut or style gone awry. Did the stylist give you the wrong dye, or was talking on the phone and took a hunk out of your hair. Maybe the razor slipped and you now have a huge bald spot. Let's see what you can come up with. --------------- “A deal, you can’t refuse,” said she. “I’ll do a style out of this world. Now shut your eyes tight.” When she was done, I opened my eyes to rainbow hair of green, blue, purple, yellow, red and brown. I was speechless, for I was gagged and all tied up. 50 words Talking about hair, here’s something by an old master to definitely outdo my tiny short. Aedh gives his Beloved certain Rhymes Fasten your hair with a golden pin, And bind up every wandering tress; I bade my heart build these poor rhymes: It worked at them, day out, day in, Building a sorrowful loveliness Out of the battles of old times. You need but lift a pearl-pale hand, And bind up your long hair and sigh; And all men's hearts must burn and beat; And candle-like foam on the dim sand, And stars climbing the dew-dropping sky, Live but to light your passing feet. William Butler Yeats William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)—one of my favorite poets--was an Irish poet and playwright. He won the Nobel Prize in 1923. His quote about poetry is my go-to poetry quote: “Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.” |