The Black Bird by Olga Everaert

Prompt: Mastermind | Word count: 1000 | Genre: Memoir

The sound of the rain as it hits the roof. An occasional beam of light plays with dust mites, dancing in mid air; revealing objects discarded, hoarded, long since forgotten.

With stealth thoughts creep in.
I drown them in ink –––
Watch them fall.
Dark outlines, silhouettes
On the white paper.

Tenebrous

This content is for members only. Please login or register.
Log In Register

The Mask by Olga Everaert

Prompt: The Club | Word count: 750 exact! | Genre: fiction

The unsuspecting visitor might stare in wonder at the vacant looks on a row of masks.
White breeches, jackets, lamés, hanging in orderly formation ––– everything white –––  blades, grips; all manner of equipment, necessary to the professional fencer; arranged with obvious pride..
Tall and lean, his frame bent over the work table, the solitary man, intently, with careful precision, applies patches to a lamé, when his concentration and tranquility are interrupted by a commotion from below stairs and the shrieking of his name. *

This content is for members only. Please login or register.
Log In Register

The House by Olga Everaert

Prompt: Coming Undone | Word Count: 1200 | Genre: Fiction

Rain is coming down hard and fast. The lone pedestrian dives deeper inside the trench coat. With collar turned up and hat pulled down deep over forehead; face, all but obscured; hands, clenched into fists ––– not to be seen; hidden, inside deep pockets.
The shivering light of the street lantern casts yellow splotches on the inky black asphalt. Lengthy strides betray an impatience to get out of this deluge and home fast.
A car passes by, throwing up waves of pooled water from the ditch, dousing the already soaked coat even more.

The house is in darkness and silent as if holding its breath. Trench coat for just a moment, sags against the door ––– fighting off a momentary weakness; waves of desolation wanting to overtake and swallow up bits of enthusiasm that remain.

This content is for members only. Please login or register.
Log In Register

The Summons by Olga Everaert

Prompt: Going Home | Word Count: 500 | Genre: Historical Fiction/Ekphrasis

Now there is no going back… it cannot be made undone… he has seen her, seen her in all her naked glory and has feasted his eyes on her as sure as the wind at this precise moment is caressing her… the thought of his touch upon her arouses her..

Surely she knew what she was doing. Knowing full well that the sight from the palace rooftop affords an unobstructed view into her garden; the place she had deliberately chosen for the bath; making her preparations for this evening’s immersion in the mikvah; the completion of her ritual purification. She longs for this time of the month, the immersion of the soul!  

This content is for members only. Please login or register.
Log In Register

The Performance by Olga Everaert

Prompt: A White Lie | Word Count: 2500 | Genre: Fiction

The man, tall and slender, dark hair tied back by a ribbon, with nonchalant and practiced ease places a patch by the corner of his mouth. Raising long tapered fingers to tie the snowy white cloth around his neck. A deep sigh escapes him –– the weariness and utter tediousness of it all. Flickering light of the candles cannot dissolve the frown lines between his eyes. A handsome face; now marred by the thin set line of his mouth; the firm jaw, clenched –– everything in his demeanor wears an expression of restless boredom. The barely concealed distaste and reluctance for the duty his position in society demands of him.

The dressing chamber reflected in the mirror, like its master, is sparse but appointed with elegant simplicity. Absence of ornamentation; the few pieces that adorn the space reflect the exquisite and highly personal taste of its owner.

This content is for members only. Please login or register.
Log In Register

A Thousand and One Sleepless Nights by Olga Everaert

Prompt: Conversation with my spouse Word Count: 1200 Genre: fiction

The book lies open on the table in front of me, my thoughts drifting away. Why do the great romances of the world seem to end in tragedy. Happy, happy endings only happen in the world of fairy tales, or do they?

“We really have to go you know that, don’t you.” I announce out of the blue.
The paper is lowered an inch or so and eyes, very expressive, look before disappearing once again behind the impenetrable wall of the paper.
“It is expected of us to show our face,” I continue my monologue with the paper. “Mother will be seriously disappointed if we do not come.
And I have bought a new dress too. You won’t believe my good fortune, it was a steal. Fifty percent off everything in the store and then again another twenty percent off the sale price. They might as well have given it me for free.” As the eyes re-appear over the paper, I add, “and I bought you a new shirt as well.
White, and with that narrow collar you so like.
It will be such fun, darling, you’ll see.”
As darling stands up and makes a move to the coffee machine I hold out my empty cup. “A refill for me too, please dearest.”

This content is for members only. Please login or register.
Log In Register

New Life by Olga Everaert

Prompt: New Life | Word Count: 1000 | Genre: Memoir

Aloneness ––– thundering sound of the waves, high as houses, black tumultuous, perfectly suited to my mood. This churning cauldron of the great Lake on one side, dunes and forest on the other. The sky hangs low, reaching down to touch me. On the horizon, storm clouds racing past, looking dark and forbidding. I have been walking for hours and I wonder, is it truly possible that my energy will simply run out? How far, before I collapse and fall to the ground.
No other sign of life to be seen apart from a few birds. How long then before I will be found. Dragged away like flotsam reclaimed by the tide. Strong wind gusts blow up the sand like a dervish, stinging my face. It completely alters the appearance of the deserted beach.

This content is for members only. Please login or register.
Log In Register