Gin & Tonic Seizure ( #FlashFiction )

Carnations, chrysanthemums burn dislodged nasal septum. Footfalls crunch gravel the stiff procession trod. Hunched-backed, they snake two-by-two offering white roses.

I sneeze blood into her pink handkerchief.

“Who died?”

“My grandfather.” Her eyes hid behind fine graying blinds—don’t know her.

Restless tremors shock…

“Am I dreaming?”

“Yes,” her reply.

I collapse awake clutching my ears.

10 Responses to “Gin & Tonic Seizure ( #FlashFiction )”

  1. Such a fascinating dream my friend…I see how well the title fits in. 🙂

  2. Conundrum all round! Paradox! It’s a strange read, fixes me there but it’s like a bad dream…dadaeque like Ernst or Dali…we’re all growing out of the coffin…and we can’t wake up!

  3. I love kolembo’s comment on it being akin to dadaesque — I can see that too in this poem of yours, the atmosphere and profound triviality of the dream favors encounters even surprises, in a naturalness in the sense that the characteristics of this ‘dream’ is that nothing in it astonishes us in the dream state.

    I really enjoyed the eloquent execution of this poem.


  4. moondustwriter Says:

    sneezing blood…
    Adam yuck

    no wonder you are a writer
    smiles my friend

  5. Adam…
    We always welcome your writing wizardry.
    I don’t know about Dadaesque, but I know Dustusesque,
    And brother…You Be It!!
    Excellent 55 My Friend.
    Thanks for playing, and have a Kick Ass Week-End

  6. fascinating…amazing flow from image to image…

  7. Surreal imagery here. No wonder it turned out to be a dream ( nightmare) in the end!

  8. There’s something profoundly dark about this and of course surreal, made more powerful by your usual strong display of imagery, beginning with the compelling alliteration of “carnations, chrysanthemums.” I was glad it was just a dream!

  9. And that’s why I prefer arum and coke… I don’t imagine of sneezing blood….
    That was real daaaaaaaaaaaark, Adam…

    And that last line – “I collapse awake clutching my ears.” — LOVED the contrasting imagery here… super cool!!

  10. I’m there. in your dream, you write so well. The roses, the stomping and the hunched backs all paint a vivid image. I picture a mixture of WWII and Italy and a brick street or do they call it cobblestone?

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