Confluence

‘Good Morning,’ said the warm friendly voice in her headset.

Keen intellect. Intuitive empathy. Quiet vulnerability.

They both shared a childlike conviction – in azure skies, vibrant rainbows, mythical creatures.

Smiling, she turned up the volume. Her voice calm as she articulated her plans.

For one enchanted moment across continents, the Sun and Moon cast their languorous incandescence in complete harmony.

Confluence / kɒnflʊəns / Noun
An act or process of merging. Often used to talk about the coming together of factors or ideas, or of cultures in a diverse city

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How to be a Hero (A Letter from Mom)

Be you, my child.
Love, with all your heart.
Trust. Be trustworthy.
Set your standards real high.

You’ll see emotions and principles on barter in the name of success, fame or money.
Stand strong.
And don’t lose faith.

Know that every Hero who’s on display needs someone
You be that person – that ‘someone’.
Listen objectively, speak your mind, do not judge, never betray.
No matter what.

That takes immense strength of character.

And soon, without even realizing it, you become your own Hero.

Not the one on public display.
Nor the one that’s surrounded by frenzied fickle fans.
Nor the one who’s paid the price to a point of no return

You become that Hero who stays true to himself.
The real one.
Unshakeable.
Against all odds.

From Mom.

Love

Piercing grey eyes, mop of brown hair, boyish smile.  Striking ink-blue T-shirt.

And a lazy afternoon.

His arm almost around her waist, not touching her at all.

She steps a little closer, shy, confused.

His eyes never left hers that day on.

And she never stopped smiling.


Love /lʌv/ noun

a strong feeling of affection.

Fever

I lay in bed, exhausted, burning with fever.

A crash of pots, pans.

“Darling, omelette, dry toast. We ran out of butter,” he grins sheepishly, handing me the tray.

Then, he looks at me, eyes like smouldering embers.

I am in love.

Participating Entry – YeahWrite #221 Microstories Challenge

Prompt:
Answer this question in exactly 42 words
“How Hot Is It?”

00:00 Hours

Giggles, whispers in the girls’ dorm.

Chocolate cake, potato chips, ginger ale.

Muted squeal: ‘Idiot, you’re standing on my chess-board!’

Kruger trots in, tail wagging, followed by Floyd, the bantam goat.

Camp season midnight feasts. No woof woof, just cuddles and crumbs.

Participating Entry – YeahWrite #217 Microstories Challenge

Prompt:
Answer this question in exactly 42 words
“Why didn’t the dog bark?”