Here are just a few of my favorite #vss365 tweets I’ve done. #VSS365 is a hashtag on twitter where you’re given a daily prompt, and writers respond with a story that can fit in a tweet. I’ve admittedly cheated on a few over several tweets, but I generally keep it to one.
August 8, 2019
there are things in life that #evaporate
they’re there, until they’re not
but a soul like yours
is fire and smoke
if they can’t love you, your fire will warm the earth
until it is uninhabitable
because life without love is only saltwater
August 12, 2019
no matter how long she stared, it didn’t change.
the caption read: anna johnson, #vermillion county, 1905.
the same name on her driver’s license.
the face of the brunette in the photo glared at the camera, daring.
the same face from her bathroom mirror.
August 12, 2019
she gave me a conch #shell
if I held it to my ear I could hear the wind on the shore, the swell of the waves.
I asked her to listen too, but she said the ocean wasn’t hers anymore.
it had taken from her, and all she could hear now were whispers of ghosts
August 28, 2019
“life is full of #fragile moments” her voice is calm, but I can hear the camouflaged pain. “how will I get through this?” I ask. she touches my arm, “you don’t go through it. you make room for it. all you can do is try to love who you become.”
September 3, 2019
she felt #mystery in the moment. like standing on a cliff, the waves crashing below, either she falls and survives something remarkable or the rocks on the shore become her gravestones. like she holds life and death in a box, and will she take a peek?
September 26, 2019
“think about it. blue whales are 200 tons, 100 feet long. what do they eat? krill. that aren’t even an inch long.”
he lays his head on the table, places his palms over his ears.
“nuthin to be done. guys like that #consume the little guy. us. it’s over.”
October 16, 2019
the #chunk of asteroid was tiny in the photo that made the rounds, but with a mass the size of California there was no doubt in everyone’s minds that we were fucked. the psa on our doom was expected. the ad for a new iPhone afterwards? not so much.
October 22, 2019
When the location of the human #soul was found, the news story was put on the back burner in favor of Black Friday deals.
Our legacy is burying the knowledge of what made us under the things we made to destroy us.
Maybe that’s what we deserve.
October 24, 2019
as a teen I finally followed my grandfather into the #cellar, expecting occult trinkets. the rusted toy cars were a disappointment. he avoided me after that.
at 23, I learned my grandfather had died before I was born.
I’d been asking the wrong questions.
October 28, 2019
We walked to my #grave, the sweet pitter patter of the rain—our orchestra, our waltz. She held my hand as I lowered myself into the open pit filled with mud. One last squeeze on my fingers and she was gone- her to life, me to only endlessly watch.
October 31, 2019
I was working my way through his pile of bills when a clak near the window caught my attention. To my surprise, in the open window stood a silken black #raven. I froze for a moment, when the bird spoke. “Say nevermore” it said in a deep voice, not unlike my father’s.
I smiled, knowing the mix of pride and frustration my father must have felt at his failed attempt at living the story. The longing and love hit like a stone in my gut.
Jan 16, 2020
The #yearning clung like a second skin, but she kept her fingers closed over her palms. Her past, their faces, held suspended in the crystal before her. But they were not what she had come for. She forced herself to hear the fortune tellers’ words.
“You’ve lost much,” she says, her fingers covered in thick gold rings running over the crystal before her. “You will you lose yet more.” She bites her lip. It was not what she wanted to hear, but she yet held to hope. “Will it be worth it, everything I have lost?”
The fortune-teller smiles, a cheshire grin of crooked teeth. “The spirits tell me only the future. Not how you will feel about it.”