The Word Was BLUE
Our Favorite Seven Submissions
By Wylde Wanderer.
Blue is what she used to be living in her
own abyss-full deep darkened blue…
a hole of dismissing…
her kitchen floor was greyed and worn – it used to show the blue-ness of her oceanic tears…
the salt drying and scrubbing it to a dulled worn out hue…
he no longer the call her soul tended to
she no longer admittingly willingly a captured one – as the other few…
Ignoring her own despondence
looking towards the lightening sky…
upturning her heart
to coincide with her smile…
The corrective action soothed her rhythmic soul…
allowing for her cascading waterfall…
to flow once again – hopeful evermore….
By Mississippi Writer Laurie Parker
After months of planning, her wedding was approaching, and she’d decided on three out of four things for the time-honored tradition of “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” The “something old” was a doily her grandmother had tatted—now attached to the ring-bearer pillow.
Her new thing was the dress her parents bought her. Her mom went with her to Atlanta to get it. It was a designer dress, beyond her folks’ budget, but it was her dream dress, similar to the one supermodel Kate Moss wore (and after all, she told herself when she felt twinges of guilt for going with something so pricey, you only get married once).
She was pleased with her “something borrowed.” A childhood friend was letting her borrow a pair of antique opal earrings. Now, she need only decide on “something blue.” She sat on her bed one day, flipping through magazines for ideas. Many of them suggested wrapping the bride’s bouquet with a blue ribbon. But she wanted something different.
Suddenly, she stumbled across an article suggesting the bride carry a small hanky embroidered with the word LOVE in blue. LOVE.
Tears filled her eyes as she let the magazine drop. That’s it, she thought, staring at a reflection of herself in the mirror across from her bed.
Her eyes moved to a blank picture frame on her vanity.
For years it had held a picture of her college sweetheart, who was killed by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan in 2008. She’d removed his photo shortly after she began dating the man she was about to marry, but she’d never been able to bring herself to put a new one in the frame.
She knew she’d found her something blue. She was already wearing it. Still wearing it. On the inside.
By Sulekha Pande
They were meeting after 20 years.
The two sisters, born 5 years apart.
One was svelte and tall with smooth skin and long hair, beautiful eyes and a waist to die for, a perfect hourglass…
The other was plain.
They had one thing in common though…..
Both were arrogant, mean and extremely selfish….
Born into a wealthy family, both stood to inherit a fortune…
Both were married now, stayed in different cities with little or no connection.
The clan was coming together for the wedding of one of the cousins.
Ever since childhood, the pretty one had her sights set on a beautifully crafted waistband which was studded with 18 blue sapphires and 36 diamonds, made in the shape of a snake, it was so exquisite that she thought it was rightfully her’s as she had a waist to match, but much to her chagrin, her mother had given it to her sister as a wedding gift and she was given a necklace of same value as her wedding gift. She had lusted after it all her life.
Now was her time to take her revenge…
The wedding over, the day after everyone was leaving…..
Both sisters had a heart to heart talk in their late mother’s room…..
They both parted teary-eyed on the surface….
She didn’t dare open her bags in front of her husband, but as soon as he left, she got to business….
She opened her bag with a thumping heart and took out the familiar Cartier embossed gold colored box……
She knew the code by heart, as she opened it……
The box was empty…..
She couldn’t believe her eyes, shook it upside down, but nothing came out….
On a hunch, she opened her own box of the blue sapphire necklace……
That was empty too………
By Rode Albino
Most nights before I go to bed I try to clean up. Sometimes, it’s early at 9 pm but most of the time it’s way too late and I’m so tired I can barely stay upright on my feet.
But I do it anyways. I arrange the pillows and the closet.
I clean off the table and scrub them tidy.
Then I stand back and exhale. I finally feel the weight of the day disappear and I take in all of our little homes.
I see Dad’s music player and sing a duet with the popular bands of 1980’s, Queen, Aerosmith, Def Leppard, Journey, Beegees, and Air Supply. I like listening to old songs, and country music. Mixed Personality: Soulful and Meaningful, Metallic and Alive, Calm and Soothing.
Enjoying the ambiance, a blue box under the sound system caught my attention.
I picked it up and I feel nostalgic on what I saw.
Cards and letters for different occasions I received from my high school friends, ticket of my first-ever rollercoaster ride in a theme park, dried flowers and leaves I used as bookmarks, empty wrappers of candies and chocolates I get from my first crush, childhood photographs, souvenirs from places I’ve been, keychain, fancy bracelets,earrings and necklaces, colorful hairpins and rubber bands, and two pieces of jigsaw puzzle.
Aha! Now I know why I couldn’t solve and complete that puzzle. Case solved. Finally!
I closed the blue box and place it near my heart. I literally hugging it. Inside this blue box are my treasures.
This is not just an ordinary blue box. This is “MEMORIES”.
By Kristine Mae Reyes
Now she sits beneath the banners of the midnight blue sky. Her raven hair blown in all directions. Her tears fall endlessly. Wondering. Thinking. Hoping. One day she will be free. One day she will dance with nothing but pure glee. But now she has to embrace this sorrow. This misery, they say it loves company so now she will, she will walk hand in hand with it, until the day that they will see the world in technicolor, until then, she will learn that this world runs too, in different hues of blue…
By James Webb
His mood was blue. Salty and wet as the sea. Nothing was going right and he was going left. Exasperated and angry that things had gone so far wrong. The sky was bright and everyone was happy but he was blue. How sad. The ones who wanted to make him yellow could not and the ones who could do not care.
By Judy Gragg Chavez
Blue, please. The counterman leaned closer, dimples dancing, singing “just LOOK at this heavenly yellow!” “It’s blue I want”, says I. The counterman’s smile wavered. Orange? Leaf green? As he wrapped and bagged my blue, his eyes grew dark, and his shoulders drooped.
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