Conspired

Mari sat in the passenger seat, waiting for Mark’s return. They had come to the Marina for the Independence Day fireworks and been there most of the evening.

It was just before 10pm, and the fireworks display would be starting any second. Mark had a crush on Mari since high school, but was never brave enough to ask her on a date. Even she could see it and she encouraged his attention, but events conspired to keep a relationship from developing.

First there was Brian, her “dud” ex-boyfriend, who was the perfect rebellion relationship to inflict on her parents. But like the firecrackers in the distance, he was all noise with none of the flare. She was glad when he finally left town and that ended their relationship.

Whistle….pop! A bottle rocket exploded nearby.

Then, Mark left to go to college across the state. They exchanged a few emails and texts, but it had been two years since Mari had seen him in person. Mark called her up and invited her to the display at the Marina. Her curiosity compelled her to accept.

Crackle-crack-crack-crack. More firecrackers.

Mari looked up to see Mark standing at the front of the car with a sheepish grin. He held two cups of cherry slush.

Sizzle…whoosh…boom!

The first firework went off behind him. The impact of the sound rattled the car window. Mari smiled and got out the car. They climbed on the hood and watched the perfectly timed and placed explosions, filled with color and sound.

Sometimes events conspire to make perfect moments, too.

*******************
Written in response to writing prompt on Poets&Writers, to write a short story that takes place at fireworks display. This is more of a character study, or maybe flash fiction, but the prompt definitely helped me.

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Conspired

Day 22: Ever

It is another day where life
Has been most factual,
And I have some difficulty leaving
My song here- in some truth – actual.
But I read an essay on pine trees
That quantified the degrees
Of desire
one can have for an idea
A word
a verdant memory
this chlorophyll green, – bursting from
feelings that shade the glare
and weather the gray
tips of needles-
sparks erupting from the receding storm
that I longed for.

Day 22: Ever

Day 16: Contrast (double cinquain)

Roughened
with sandpaper,
the wall’s imperfections
approach a continuous plane
until
smoothened.
The set surface,
recounting the coarseness
of my finger tracing contours,
breathes in.

*************
I may have broken a cinquain rule by bridging to the second set. It also ends up with a certain erotic quality.

Day 16: Contrast (double cinquain)