“It’s unlikely, these days”
As the lights descend
Over rose-kissed peaks,
Ancient stone dusted with gold.
“It’s unlikely, these days”
As the strange ones lope
Across eerie green shadows
Glassine sand sifted with blue.
“It’s unlikely, these days,”
We said once,
Before we faded.
Author’s Note 🌿
Scoot ‘s prompts this last week for Flash Fic Friday were a bit of a brain-teaser for me. I didn’t feel up to trying to pen a Valentine's poem or a romantic endearment, and I just had to let things percolate for a few days. Clearly, the percolation led to something outright weird. I stepped into the ‘write about a desert’ theme when I sketched out a mesa rock formation in the sketchbook (poems are very linked to visual stimuli for me), and… Weirdness. As I leaned on the dialogue prompt, “It’s unlikely, these days,” somehow it unlocked dormant memories of 90s alien documentaries and here we are.
Weirdness. (LOL)
❦ Heather
Thank you for reading Pen-Scribbled Stories, a haphazard archive of experimental prose and story. Pen-Scribbled Stories is a subsidiary of the Heather in the Blue Mountains newsletter.
**If you enjoyed this creative ramble, please consider checking out some of my other work. 🌿
Good one! I tried to engage with the post from “within”, but got a message that I am unsubscribed. Must be Substack shenanigans again.