This week I wrote two stories for the Six Sentence Story blog hop: one for the SSC&B collaborative world and this one here because I enjoy writing the mini stories with the restraint of six-sentences. It's cool and sometimes a bit... challenging.

The host of the hop is Denise aka Girlie on the Edge, and on Sunday she provides the prompt. On Wednesday, the link-up goes live and many awesome authors add their sixes there.

Do check them out, even if you didn't fancy mine, as all writers are different and you may find something more of your cup of tea; even some on-going stories ;).

Umm, musically???

Imaginary Friend and Cruel Devotion by Night Club were playing in the moment, no wonder the six became something like this... and instead of Zinfandel I had Puglia. I love the primitivo wines, and Night Club's music.

Rules of the hop:
Write 6 sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word.
The link is live from Wednesday at 6:00 PM until late Saturday night.
Spread the word and support fellow writers!

PROMPT WORD: DUST

Six-Sentence Story - The Well-Doing Woman

Emile leaned against the wall furthest from the bar, sipping on a cocktail while dodging men like bullets; they all looked at her like hounds ready to pounce as soon as the opportunity came, but what they didn't know was that her life had no room for hollow connections and what did they call them again...

one-night stands?

She craved a lover who would watch her dance half-naked in the middle of the night in her kitchen while singing along to her favourite songs out loud, drunk on some Zinfandel;
a man who would love her for who she was when there was no one left to impress.

In the midst of her thoughts, Emile recognized a familiar presence in the room;
the kind of presence whose absence had once left her feeling hollowed out,

the kind of absence that came with a loneliness that felt most harrowing
when accompanied by other people.

"You seem to be doing well without me,"

Emile knew that voice from the first syllable; it belonged to a man she had buried beneath the struggle of surviving his silence,
a man whom she grieved while dismantling the sandcastles she had once held onto.

"Did I have a choice?"

she looked the man straight in the eye, wanting to scream that she had two options at the time she made the decision to reach inside her rib cage and crush what was there:
to sink with the ship of a friendship that never belonged to her,
or jump off and fight for a life she believed she deserved.

"You know damn well that when the sun goes down, when I am sipping my morning coffee, walking through an art gallery, listening to music, or looking for a partner, I still think of you,"

she gave him a warm smile and, before walking off, said:

"Doing seemingly well without you has nothing to do with my admiration for you,
if that is what you are wondering,

love,"

and just like that,
Emile disappeared into the crowd of unsuspecting dancers,
each with their own demons to fight and feelings to bury or to dust off,

and once again,

leaving the man she loved

behind.

There's more of my work:

If you like short stories I have them scooped up into one category (including the six-sentence stories).

Or maybe you prefer poetry,, more personal entries can be found at the Blog.

There's also the IT studies blog in Estonian and "Chaos in Spring" on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.