With his trademark silence, Church Mouse finished polishing the last of the marble. He hadn’t said more than a word since his wife passed, but he kept the place clean. This had been her job, once—the sweeping and polishing. A job that had allowed them to keep the tiny apartment in the rectory.

She had always been the provider, really, and always let him know it. She never shut up.

The fall had been a tragic accident, they said.

Her poor husband, they said.

He picked up the mop and kept his mouth shut.

“Quiet as a church mouse!”


Trying out the Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.


She was never the same–
there was a vacancy in her
enigmatic gray eyes.
Death had greedily collected
her happiness,
along with the life of
her brother,
best friend.
She became solitary,
By rote she completed
what became mundane aspects
of a previously brilliant life.
Each day spent in a fog
until nighttime
when she would go to his bed–
curled up;
as though completing a puzzle
created in the womb.

I’ve been trying to write the story of Oscar and Alphonse for two decades now, so much of this has been taken from previous attempts to describe the lives of the close, ill-fated twins. In early childhood, Oscar proved herself to be a temperamental tomboy, which earned her the unflattering nickname that would stick throughout the remainder of her life. Her brother Alphonse was gentle-tempered, frail and prone to illness. His death in their early teens permanently altered the trajectory of her life. What happens to them has yet to find its way on paper. 


In the room

I was in the room, breathing so softly.
Watching as she took the pins
out of her long, silky hair.
A smile on her tired face.

She kicked off her heels when
I was in the room, breathing so softly.
And she stepped out of her dress–
letting it gather in gentle folds at her feet.

There was desire in her eyes;
a coy cocking of the head as
I was in the room, breathing so softly.
An unquestionable invitation.

My love. My obsession.
She turned to him and fell into his arms,
as I slowly lifted the gun and pointed.
I was in the room, breathing so softly.

Inspired by CC to try a Quatern. It’s a little dark, even for me, but I just can’t help myself…