• About the Author
  • My Books
  • EVENTS
  • My Favorites from Other Authors
  • Wall of Thanks
  • Contact Dorinda
  • Copyright Notice
  • Images and Artwork
  • On the Trail of a Mastermind

Night Owl Poetry – Dorinda Duclos

~ "The silence of the night awakens my soul"

Night Owl Poetry – Dorinda Duclos

Category Archives: Fiction

Friends Don’t Lie ~ #AprilWriting #fiction

24 Tuesday Apr 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in April Writing, Fiction, Poems, Poetry

≈ 34 Comments

Tags

#AprilWriting, #shortstory, #writingprompt, bully, Bullying, death, dorindaduclos.com, Fiction, friends, grave, haystack, lies, lying, murder, Night Owl Poetry, revenge, secrets, writing


Friends don’t lie. Oh, but they do, about everything. Even the secrets you tell them not to tell, they run as fast as they can to tell everyone. Everyone, except me. I was the quiet one, the one you could actually tell a secret to, and not have to worry. I promised you I would go to my grave with them. And that’s exactly what I did.

It was 1939. School was out for the summer, and the children in the neighborhood gathered together for some games. One boy, we’ll call him James, was always the bully. He made sure the smaller kids ran away. He said he didn’t want any babies playing with him. I was one of those babies. But I never ran. I think he admired me for that. I stood up to him. But on this particular day, he fought back. Chasing me around the old farmer’s plantation, screaming and cursing at me, I continued to run around in circles. He couldn’t find me. I had hidden myself behind a haystack. Finally giving up, he ran back to the others.

I couldn’t see them but I could hear them. They were laughing. I didn’t know at what, but I found out soon enough. James made up lies about me. He said I was really a girl and he made me show him my girl parts, and made me do disgusting things with him. I’m not a girl, and I never showed or did anything. How could he spread lies about me this way? And then my whole world crumbled.

I overheard Danny telling them a story about me, one he’d promised me he’d never tell. I could feel my face redden and was grateful no one could see me behind this mound of hay. I thought Danny was my best friend. A year older than I was, he usually protected me from being bullied. I was the smallest of the group, not yet dealing with a growth spurt. And my voice squeaked from time to time. It made me a target, especially for James. Something very different happened on this day. Danny was laughing with all of them. He wasn’t defending me, he was ridiculing me. How did I know? I knew his voice better than I knew my own. I slowly came out from behind the haystack and stood there, waiting for them to see me, waiting for Danny to tell me it was all joke.

When they realized I was standing there, they ran at me, like a wild pack of wolves, hungry for their prey. I didn’t move. To be honest, I was scared to death. I let them tackle me, pound me into the ground, until the light faded and I no longer heard them. I can only imagine they left me there, just walked away. I wanted to know if Danny went with them, or if he stayed to make sure I was okay. But I wasn’t okay. I heard the sirens, and felt a rush of hands lifting me onto a gurney, pushing against me, and I could hear them, calling my name. I answered, but they didn’t hear me.

I never awakened that day. I’m just a lost soul, wandering, waiting to find my entrance into the hereafter. No one knew what really happened to me. The group of boys who killed me, walked away without even a slap on the hand. Why, you might ask? Because no one ever found out who did it. When the police questioned them, they lied. They blamed it on old farmer Bob. After all, I was on his land, and no one was allowed to trespass without consequence.

So, you see, I went to my grave with a very big secret. But my time here on Earth wasn’t finished. I was only 12 years old. I still had much to do. And so I kept myself hidden behind that old stack of hay, waiting, watching, and patiently plotting the perfect time for my revenge.  I wasn’t in a hurry.  I had all the time in the world…

 

April Writing Prompt:  Friends Don’t Lie – Day 24/30

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Should this warm your soul, please share.

  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
Like Loading...

Alone by the Window ~ #SeptemberWriting #poetry of #loneliness

29 Friday Sep 2017

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Fiction, Poems, Poetry, September Writing

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

#creativewriting, #poetry, #SeptemberWriting, aging, between the lines, blinds, broken heart, daily routine, dorindaduclos.com, loneliness, Night Owl Poetry, old age, writing


It was her daily routine, dawn til dusk

She sat by the window, searching

Hidden behind the slatted blinds

She looked, hoping he would be lurking

Day after day, she sat there

No one came calling for her

Night after night, same as the day

Eventually, it became just a blur

You can see where the blinds remain parted

There, her fingers kept them pushed apart

Though she no longer sits by the window

She remains hidden, alone, with an empty heart

 

Writing Prompt: Between the Lines – Day 29/30

©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Should this warm your soul, please share.

  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
Like Loading...

A Raging Inferno ~ #SeptemberWriting #fiction

28 Thursday Sep 2017

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Fiction, Poems, Poetry, September Writing

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

#creativewriting, #poetry, #SeptemberWriting, dorindaduclos.com, embers, Fiction, fire, Night Owl Poetry, smoke, writing


The fire burned out of control, ignited by a single spark. It was a simple flick of ash that swallowed everything in its path. Flames erupted, hissing and spitting, taking the land with it. As more and more embers sparked, my eyes caught a glimpse of her standing there, cloaked in black. She looked frozen in time, out of place among the raging inferno. I called out to her, but she ignored me. Perhaps she didn’t hear me. I called again. She seemed startled, not knowing someone else had been close by. She kept her head down and her hood over her face so I could not see her. I walked closer to her, but the heat from the flames pushed me back. Yet, she stood there, unaffected by the destruction occurring around her. There was a flash, an explosion, as the fire hit a gas line. I looked again, and couldn’t find her. Suddenly, there was a calm, an almost autumn like breeze brushing by me. The fire tamed, leaving behind a plume of smoke, where once she stood.

 

Writing Prompt: The Embers Erupted – Day 28/30

©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Should this warm your soul, please share.

  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
Like Loading...

Staggering Heights ~ #dark #fiction

30 Sunday Jul 2017

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in creative writing, Fiction

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

#creativewriting, blackout, coffee, darkness, death, dorindaduclos.com, dreams, elevators, fears, Night Owl Poetry, nightmares, writing


The caffeine hadn’t kicked in yet. Even toothpicks wouldn’t have held these eyes open. They’d snap from the weight of my lids. Half asleep, I stood there, in a daze, trying to remember what had happened the night before. The elves, hammering away in my head, reassured me they hadn’t forgotten. These blackouts were becoming worrisome, not to mention altogether dangerous.

I glanced around the room, still not quite sure where I was. In the distance, I could make out the Manhattan skyline, lazily communing with the haze of morning. The view was a bit daunting, what with my fear of heights, which was rather quickly enveloping me. I turned around, knowing I probably needed more coffee to steady my nerves, and found I had already drained the pot.

My only recourse was to venture out into the noise of the morning commuters. I threw on some clothes, staggered out the door, stepped onto the elevator and fell 20 floors. Lying at the bottom of the elevator shaft, I had, at last, awakened.

 

©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Should this warm your soul, please share.

  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
Like Loading...

The Same ~ A Fable

23 Friday Jun 2017

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Fiction

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

branches, dorindaduclos.com, fable, family, Fiction, lesson, moon, moral, Night Owl Poetry, trees, writing

Author’s note:  I blame the lack of sleep for this unusual piece, now added to my collection of fiction.  Thank you for suffering along with me and my odd sense of writing  😉


“You’re embarrassing me”

“Me? Have you taken a good look at yourself?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Really, must you two always bicker about the same thing?”

“Well, she looks awful!”

“I do not, you do”

And as the father treed sighed, listening to the two women trees bicker over whose hair looked better, the moon quietly watched. He had heard it all before. Though he knew the barren branches of the trees would never be tamed, he continued to shine on them, a light to illuminate their differences, a glow to show them they were, indeed, the same.  Beautiful.

 

©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Should this warm your soul, please share.

  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
Like Loading...
← Older posts

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 5,213 other subscribers

NOW AVAILABLE!

I participated in a Ninny Rhino (Mini-WriMo)

Authorsdb

FB Author Page

FB Author Page

Follow me on Twitter

My Tweets

Recent Posts

  • Haiku – on Shadows – #NationalHaikuPoetryDay
  • Eclipse My Eyes – #poetry
  • Twilight – #Haiku #Poetry
  • A Ghoul’s Delight – #poetry #Halloween
  • Unsettled – #poetry

Recent Comments

Dorinda Duclos's avatarDorinda Duclos on Haiku – on Shadows…
Lakayla Perry's avatarLakayla Perry on Haiku – on Shadows…
Dorinda Duclos's avatarDorinda Duclos on Haiku – on Shadows…
Jerry Brotherton's avatarJerry Brotherton on Haiku – on Shadows…
Dorinda Duclos's avatarDorinda Duclos on Haiku – on Shadows…

Archives

Categories

Meta

  • Create account
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

MY BOOKS

Available on Amazon.com

A WordPress.com Website.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Night Owl Poetry - Dorinda Duclos
    • Join 5,213 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Night Owl Poetry - Dorinda Duclos
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...
 

    Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
    To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
    %d