AI-Generated Image: A Black woman with locs looking at a photo album while sitting outside on a bench. She is wearing a jean jacket with a hot pink halter top under it. Her hot pink nails pop as they slide across the photo album.
Memory goes for a long walk. She carries one of her favorite photo albums with her. She is reminiscent of the times she and Rodney shared before marriage. Their friends always knew they would do life together — that they’d succeed in lassoing one another to their hearts. They did. And now she is searching for the feelings she used to have before marriage. She wonders where they have gone. Can she find them in the photos before her eyes? Discovering memories could serve her better than the past ever could. She’s desperate. She loves Rodney and wants to continue to spend the rest of her days with him. But she needs more. She craves more. Will she find what she’s looking for in the pictured past?
discovering life while the sun sets in full view bittersweet lovers
This concludes the Left-handed in a Dream Haibun series. Thank you so much for reading.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
My taste buds are changing, and I am okay with this.
Thursday’s lunch for work: Cucumbers, onions, Roma tomatoes, & a homemade vinaigrette dressing. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Saturday & Sunday’s breakfast: seasoned grits & salmon croquettes with onions, green bell peppers, & Roma tomatoes. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Last Sunday’s dinner: Pan-seared pork steak, homemade mashed potatoes (with cheese & sour cream), & pole & green beans with onions. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
I will share “Something To Think About” for the next five weeks on Sunday afternoons. It may be a quote, a picture, an interesting phrase I heard, artwork, etc. Whatever I share will surely be intriguing or involving enough to spark a casual discussion or in-depth conversation. Stay tuned every Sunday for this feature!
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
Flash Fiction response to Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Prompt
Photo by Tetyana Kovyrina on Pexels. The image depicts a side view of a chipmunk with a tiny teacup. On the ground in front of the chipmunk is a tiny tea dish with a blueberry on it. The ground appears to be a stone-type walk, and there is a dark blue background.
Mr. Doyle lives across the street from us. He’s an older guy with wiry fire for hair in a golden rage. My mom hates him… says he’s on some sort of in-house arrest for his past following him all the way here. I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I like Mr. Doyle. He has this lisp that I bet could scale a ladder quicker than The Flash. I have tea and danishes with him twice per week. He paints nature–makes it pop.
Today’s piece is a chipmunk sipping from the tiniest teacup I’ve ever seen. He also has a rather fat blueberry on a plate in front of the chipmunk. “A proper breakfast”, I comment. Because who wouldn’t want tea and blueberries?!
He tells me he’s titling the painting The Beauty of Voyeurism, and I sit back on the green, crunchy cushions of his couch, swirl the name around in my mouth. I like it. But . . . “Why voyeurism? Isn’t this a more sexually derived term for being too nosy and too into what you’re snooping up on?”
Mr. Doyle rolls back and forth on the heels of his feet, nods his contemplative head, and shouts in my direction, “YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT, SAM! If you notice, the chipmunk is focused, entirely too focused on the tea. The blueberry is lonely. It would like some of that attention, too. But the chipmunk has become enticed by, influenced by the deliciousness of the tea–so much so that its pleasure has been satiated by the tea alone.”
I know I ain’t the brightest crayon in the box, but I know at this point, exactly what Mom was talking about when she said Mr. Doyle has a past following him. I get up from the couch, grab my windbreaker, thank Mr. Doyle for the tea and danish, and high-tail it across the street.
Ain’t no way I’m telling Mom about this. NO WAY at all!
This flash fiction piece was written in response to Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge. Maybe you’d like to give it a go as well? Here’s hoping your mind doesn’t take you to where my mind took me. It was a fun write, nonetheless, though.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
NaPoWriMo #29| Published in Chewers by Masticadores
It has been a long time coming (not really) since my acceptance email of the three poems I wrote for the express purpose of submitting to Chewers by Masticadores. I was delighted that they all made the cut and were published on Monday, April 28, 2025. However, I am sharing most of the published work here as my contribution for the 29th day of National Poetry Writing Month.
I hope you enjoy them!
My late maternal grandmother, Betty Louise Frazier. Photo Enhancement Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Flair
A show-stopper– She never asked for acceptance But was given it in Full measure at every turn.
Advocate for People of Color And wanderers of this broken World, she struggled to save What could not be saved.
Dying must be a gift for Those of us who have been Giving so much of ourselves That the flair we once had Can only be restored if our last Breath is taken.
Forever a part of my broken heart, I’ll hold her in my memory bank And pull her from it when I need a reminder of someone Special who made me better.
From the Chrysler Museum of Art in Norfolk, VA. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
What Is Art?
Is it swirly whirls caked in Funny curls or sculpted crowns Matched with sequinned gowns?
Can it be chopped liver and Onions, mashed potatoes & gravy, And a side of hashbrowns?
Would you liken it to A couple on their first date– Woman and man about town?
Or could it be a banana peel Dressed in zeal, hanging daintily On a meshy wall turned Upside down?
I can’t tell you what art Is more than I can tell You what it is not, but I know it when I see it. And it never makes me frown.
The third and final poem, supertrE can be read by clicking this link. I hope you have enjoyed my offering to a publication I truly enjoy reading. Many thanks to Nolcha Fox for accepting these poems once again.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
political talk shakes up our nation so fast we’re built on these lies this administration knows its power dethrones others
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
Because the dog was having trouble breathing, I didn’t get much sleep.
I stayed home from work to monitor her – the love of my life, my little monster.
And when she finally found sleep again, I drifted off, too. I couldn’t pin down an hour of sleep, so I got up.
I read. I wrote. I checked the dog’s breathing. Her allergies aren’t our friend this season. Benadryl is.
She dozed off again. I read. I ate lunch. I Netflixed by watching The Residence. 4 episodes in, and I am hooked!
Cupp is particular. She is calculated – a perfectionist. She questions everything. She examines the unimaginable. I understand her.
I’m falling in love with a show that plays hide-and-seek with my thought process and places me on the edge of my seat.
I wasn’t searching for a series that would be both intriguing and shocking – I loathe series. I have to be moved, perplexed, mesmerized, and changed.
The Residence dishes out all of this and more. It is the quintessential mainstay of perfection in a comedic mystery. I found my happy place while my dog struggled to breathe.
And I almost lost my breath, too.
NaPoWriMo is finished. I survived 30 days of posting poetry every day for another year. And to end it with this one feels magical.Thanks for doing April with me, folks. I appreciate you.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
A Cornered Gurl 
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