This is a story about a woman who encounters what she thinks is a spider.
It's exactly how it sounds.
I had just rediscovered the beauty of rhyming poetry, and I wasn't sure what to do with it or myself except come up with line after line after line in hopes of finding one that might be worthy or unworthy enough to become a poem.
A nonfiction short short story about a cardinal I saw try to go through the same window countless times.
I'm just going to add a prompt here for all of my lovely readers to complete at will. My own response will be in the comments section below once I finish, and I would love for you to either add on to it or to write a new one.
I was reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce a couple weeks ago, and there is this scene where he wakes up with half of a Villanelle formed in his head. The point of this post is my curiosity at the form of the villanelle. If you can do the villanelle well, it is a beautiful and comforting cadence of rhyme and line. I am including three villanelles below for your enjoyment and discussion.