Prototype (an acrostic poem)

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Putting together yet another try was one of the most satisfying things he did

Reaching down he snapped in the last fitting and took a breath, ready to see if it worked

Of course, building all these iterations was also one of the worst things he could do

They reminded him of the numerous failures he didn’t plan for, that he was a bad engineer

Only he knew there was almost zero chance that the first one would work out of the box

That was the stuff of myths, legends, and dumb luck

Yearning to know if this was the one, he flipped the on switch

Prepared for sparks to fly and flames to claim one more attempt

Except this time it didn’t burn.  It still didn’t work, but that was still progress?

Edit (an acrostic poem)

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Evaluating his writing decisions

Dan sat there with his red pen and whisky bottle

It was too long before both were empty

That was when the flames in the fireplace grew larger

Grill (an acrostic poem)

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Good char slowly developed on the wieners

Releasing their juices to drip onto the hungry flames below

It made a pleasing aroma to those gathered around

Leaving them to contemplate the communal feast they were about to partake

Loving the dog days of summer

Fire (an acrostic poem)

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Flames soared up into the night sky, infusing the area with smoke

It lit up the other campers’ eyes and smiles as they witnessed

Reaching for her guitar, Mary began a new song of praise

Everyone was soon singing along as they shared all shared a spiritual spark

Flare (an acrostic poem)

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Flames leapt from the cylinder illuminating the darkness

Leaving Charlene blinded as she stood still among the dancing white flakes

All she could think about in that moment was the story of the little match girl

Realizing that she was going to reprise the main lead role unless there was a Christmas miracle

Every year after, Charlene would leave out a hot toddy and peanut butter cookies because… well they were his favorite

The Navy Blues ( a 200 word story) *disturbing content, please be advised*

 

The whiskey scorched all the way down as he took another swig.  He almost fell over as he ground out his cigarette.  That brought him face to face with that photo of her in that navy blue dress.

“I can’t believe you’re gone.”

A sob escaped causing him to slump into his recliner.

“We were so good together.”

Putting down the bottle, he picked up her image and gave it a sloppy kiss.  He went to put it carefully back down, but instead, he fumbled it.  The photo tumbled to the tiled floor, shattering the glass.  He groped for the now naked photograph, cutting his hand, but undeterred, he snagged it.  He sucked on the blood while staring into the picture’s eyes.

“You enjoyed that didn’t you, hurting me again?”

He picked back up the bottle and pounded what was left.  Snatching his lighter he set fire to her visage.

“Fuck!”

He watched her burn, yet even when the flames reached his fingers, he couldn’t let go.  Not even when she was just ashes.

“I told you I’d do anything to make you stay.”

He showed his fingertips to the navy blue urn on the bookshelf.

“See, I meant it.”

 

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