Buttery and the shade of melted umber, she shines like burnished stone. I could look for hours and not see a sliver, barely a fractional vista caught in the horizon’s shimmer. Sharp in the way of absent notes in a felonious composition, her cadences carry a piano’s punctuation. I could listen for hours and not catch a word, simply drift upon a lilting cloud of consciousness. Marshmallows soaked in cocoa, her eyes are diaphanous chocolate portals flecked with gold. I could drown in their depths and be forever quenched. Boundless and scaled to suit, her love is tailor made.
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.
100 word story, 100 words, Artisanal, Burnish, butter, chocolate, cocoa, consciousness, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Marshmallow, Micro Fiction, Music, Notes, one hundred words, Piano, poem, Poetry, prose, Prose poem, Punctuation, Short fiction, Silver, Stone, story, Tailor, Umber, writing