After your heartfelt speech I started a slow clap, but no one joined in. The saddest
Part was that you deserved every accolade, but my attempt fell short and silence
Reigned. Is there anything more damning than the sound of nothing reverberating around a hall?
Later, at the soirée we held hands and danced languidly to the strains of a small jazz combo.
Smoke Gets in your Eyes took little of the sting away. You still felt the absence of applause.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
My streams of thought meet here
Conceptual Photographer and Writer
Ramblings
Killer Fiction
Music and Storytelling
Besteesydian
A bit of this...A bit of that...bit of everything...come on in...
Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
You know you’re busting genres here….and I’ve noticed it a time or two previously… I’ll perverse your tag of free verse and suggest you’er subject to flash fiction when you have a mind to…so I’ll risk your tendency to pipe up with a, “What..who me?” And state flat out, that this is a fine example of “Hint Fiction.”
Regards,
I.M. Peculiar
Picayune, Idaho
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I like that. Hint Fiction. Am I the founder and you the namer?
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