As the seasons change, a slowly simmering lifelessness continues to encroach upon a single flourishing area whose very resilient occupants seemingly refuse to surrender.
The nourished souls of summers’ buoyancy have to this point persevered, but surely there will be an inevitable submission to the stampede of pitiless elemental ferocities as the seasons change.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The formal yellow and black tie event was hosted by the royalty of the workers union to address a swarm of concerns associated with questionable colony conditions and monotonous job descriptions.
A collection of bumbling scaramouch characters, feeling the assembly was droning on and accomplishing nothing, imbibed at the open nectar bar only to later embarrass themselves by passing out on a distant patio.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
On the old family backyard bench a very patient little red haired girl, wearing a lovely new white dress delicately trimmed in blue, sat perfectly straight with hands folded neatly in her lap.
A beaming smile instantly appeared on that round freckled face when the door she had been staring at finally opened revealing her proud mother, carrying her own mother’s beloved white hat complete with a matching blue ribbon.
Written by Edward Roads
Swirling contrails of orange and black were the wake of our flowing flight that flapped playfully above a lush green grass line as well as frolicking with row after row of prospering corn that stood straight like soldiers at attention.
When our delightful day of whimsical air stream serenading was over, my unpredictable pilot gently descended us with a fluttering fairytale softness upon a magnificent yellow landing pad.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Lost souls from a yesterday not so long ago walk along a path chosen for them by a brick-and-mortar generation who attempted to understand the direction one might eventually take.
The horizontal wall was carefully constructed as a passage of protection covering the frail, earthly soft textures that were once exposed to coarse elements of an environment continuously moving on the surface.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The weathered woman behind the wood fence, who had performed many horticultural works of wonder, finally spotted her indispensable and previously misplaced whetted magic wand.
Those glorious grass stained gardening shears had a spongy black handle holding a bright blue oblong body with a very shiny, though completely worn out, pistachio shell-shaped springlock.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The distant sky blew cascading kisses of light from beyond the storm clouds and purposefully past the disrupting tree bough scions.
This receptive soul embraced the warmth as a sweven swept into my heart and flooded my empty being with a needed sanguine promise for tomorrow.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
During a shadowy walk up a one way street, I happened upon a previously unseen, mystical grave marker that the curved hill appeared to protectively eclipse.
Suddenly, I began to wonder if an interred spirit deliberately fabricated this chance encounter through a subliminal elbow poke to my senses.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The very chic yet empathetic woman wore a saturated black velvet hat, smeared fire engine red lipstick and ruined white silk gloves that stretched beyond her elbows.
A rather vacuous driver frantically searched for a way into the opulent white limousine where keys remained in the ignition and a dry umbrella sat untouched on the side leather seat.
Written by Edward Roads
This morning I noticed several stones had fallen out of favor with a well-built wall whose fortification bound the breadth of the rolling hillside.
Perhaps the sunder rocks were withering masonry misfits that got pushed aside by the special strength of resplendent sunbeams.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The yellow and brown flowered comforter on the queen bed closely matched the drawn drapes at the open window next to a single reclining chair.
Straight line shadows on a plain painted wall scream silently from the spot where only yesterday bad motel art secreted an exquisite sixteenth century frame.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The weather-beaten iron barrier, bordering a cobblestone framework at the rim of the road, was primarily placed as protection for the flourishing life within.
However, the prospering pink congregation continued to grow vivaciously and soon flounced into the unsafe space beyond bars and blossom.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The long counter, where the children sat, was strewn with strawberry jam, powdered sugar, chocolate and an untouched single stack of napkins.
As each silver stool swiveled beneath them, it was obvious the kids were the quiet ones in an otherwise clamorous and caffeine fueled coffee shop.
Written by Edward Roads
The blind man wearing a faded blue fully buttoned polo waited mirthfully at the dusty bus stop for a ride back to the home.
His lighthearted presence with other potential passengers spoke of a day filled with sensory wonderment and a dauntless spirit for living life.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
It is fascinating yet disheartening that suppressed vitriol surfaces during festive events with nonthinking disgruntled relatives.
Unintended arrows housed in the family quiver stand poison poised awaiting a catalyst to ignite an inevitable launch that cannot be aborted.
(I awoke from this dream and jotted it down)
Written by Edward Roads
Mytwosentences 