Coffee’s aroma cheated me again. Slops!
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2017
Category Archives: TATI’S PROSE
100 WORD SKITTLE // Harvest
I checked the spotted page.
It looked like I’d done everything correctly. Hopefully the good sprouts wouldn’t be long in coming. I poured water into the pot and pierced a label into the soil. ‘Goldfish’.
At first my mother was happy. She adored nematanthuses. However, she began to smell a rat after a day or two. Ermm… smell a fish. Rotten fish.
She checked our aquarium and asked what we were studying at biological club. I answered, “Planting.”
Next day, my mother discretely put away all my books of Brehm and enrolled me in a dance course… just in case.
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2017
Share this:
Broken Poem (Fragment #16)
I knocked at the door.
“Come in!”
The professor was sitting on the window sill without his shoes. It looked a bit strange, but I had gotten used to his little quirks. Generally speaking, our entire magistral staff is a strange sort of panopticon—a freak show if you will—and so sitting barefoot on a window sill looks like kid’s stuff in comparison with the other teachers’ habits.
“What are you staring at? Give me your scribbles!”
I had gotten used to his bad manners too. With impassiveness I offered my worn down notebook to him. The professor opened it, read some lines and screwed up his face.
“What the crap?”
“It’s my homework.”
“Are you sure?”
“It seems so…”
“Quite so. It only seems like homework.”
He tossed the notebook against the wall. It bumped into a shelf of softbound texts, opened and came apart. Lines that I had written with diligence and care crumbled. Words and punctuation marks were scattered higgledy-piggledy in every corner like pieces of a shattered cup. I sniffled and bit my bottom lip.
“Gather up this trash. And don’t spoil such precious words with your glamorous bullshit.”
I stood and looked at his bare feet, at those claws clutching over the floor. They were long and crooked with an unpleasant yellow hue…
“Look sharp! I’m not going to hang around for another aeon!”
I started to gather my unhappy poem from the dirty floor. Resentment was slowly turning into fury. Plucked peacock! I will sort you! I will show you anti-glamour!
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2017
Share this:
Six Word Stories #22
Schrödinger’s cat has tuxedo… and hasn’t.
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2017
Share this:
100 WORD SKITTLE // Push-Up
The road was covered with tits.
I stopped and took another look. An endless strip, double bulged on one side and even on the other, stretched to the horizon like a runway. I imagined the disturbed artist who frenetically draws tits on roads. Then I imagined how he runs on that strip, dives off the last boob, and flies away into the sky.
I looked up in hope… and saw a row of utility poles that were casting this odd shadow. I felt disappointed. Another story without a happy end…
I stepped onto the first boob and prepared to run.
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2017
unbolt me 