All posts for the month April, 2016

Theatre Masks

 

Theater Masks Silhouette.png

(Credit: Elizabeth J. Aragon, sweetclipart.com)

Can we change masks now?

I am getting tired of crying, and I think the wrinkles in the brow are making furrows in my brain.

You promised me that they were only masks and that they would not change who we really are. But during the days which turned to weeks which turned to months, my face seems to have been ever better moulded to fit this grotesque façade, and I worry that time will turn these foreign features to stone.

So give me your smile.

Surely, it is my turn to be the happy one by now.

 

 

 

 

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by Beatrix MGN on April 20, 2016  •  Permalink
Posted in Flash fiction
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on April 20, 2016

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2016/04/20/theatre-masks/

From a Correspondence Between Someone Whose Name it is Better not to Mention and Myself

Three-coins-in-the-fountain

(Credit: Three Coins in the Fountain, Jean Negulesco, 1954)

My dearest [Erased],

How have you been since our last meeting?

I have had a bit of a cold, but I assure you that I regret nothing. In fact, it would bring me great pleasure to see you under similar circumstances in the future.

I heard they fished a jacket out of the fountain. It is probably yours, but I think it would be best if you do not claim it. The buttons are ruined anyway. I recommend that you find one with larger buttonholes, to make it easier to disrobe in the future.

Speaking of the future, will you meet me on the little stone bridge on Wednesday evening at eleven o’clock?

I will bring your cane.

– Your Mermaid

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by Beatrix MGN on April 18, 2016  •  Permalink
Posted in Flash fiction
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on April 18, 2016

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2016/04/18/from-a-correspondence-between-someone-whose-name-it-is-better-not-to-mention-and-myself/

Shards

broken-mirror

(Credit: Goodreads.com/author_blog_posts, Donna Pyle)

My knuckles bleed from breaking mirrors. Shards are digging through my soles and through my soul. Still, it would have been worth it, if the mirrors would stop looking at me, stop showing me dreams twisted into nightmares. I thought it was working for a while, I thought I could destroy them like this, but then I realised

that every time I break a mirror,

I am only making more mirrors.

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by Beatrix MGN on April 11, 2016  •  Permalink
Posted in Flash fiction
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Posted by Beatrix MGN on April 11, 2016

https://abolg.wordpress.com/2016/04/11/shards/

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