Wish Breaker


The howling of the wind brought the wish breaker to his window. It tapped on the glass once, twice. His fingers fell on the latch, and in a mist of night rain, it entered. It snatched at his dreams and threw them to the floor. There was a miserable fury in its eyes as they shattered. Each shard carried within it a crystalline tear. When the storm passed, he slept on a sea of broken wishes.


(Image courtesy of Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie)

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie: Writing Prompt #209 “It’s All in the Title”


Japanese translation of haiku “Sakura”

Shun has translated another one of my haiku into Japanese…

In English

silent night
whispers caught in pink plumes
become the wind


In Japanese


shizukana yo
soyogu sakura yo
kaze to nare yo

pivot words.

soyogu: rustle
stir; flutter
sway; wave
tremble; quiver.

yo: the world
I; myself
(at sentence-end) indicates certainty, emphasis, contempt, request.


Thanks Shun! 🙂

The Big Bad Wolf’s Very Bad Day

The big bad wolf was having a very bad day.

Little Red Riding Hood wouldn’t return any of his calls, they were blaming the sheep revolt on him, and all three of the little pigs were filing lawsuits.

It all started with Little Red walking in on him while he was trying on her grandmother’s clothes. Grandma knew, of course, what with them being childhood chums and whatnot, but Red had been in the dark about the whole thing.

He knew she wouldn’t take it well, conservative wench that she was, but he hadn’t expected her to cut him off entirely.

At least give a wolf a chance to explain himself.

And then there was the kid, the one who kept telling everyone that a wolf was attacking his sheep. Big Bad knew him – surly kid, neglected sheep, not many friends. He thought he’d go over to give the boy a stern talking to about his fibs and the effects they could have on a humble wolf trying to scratch out a living, but by the time he arrived the sheep were already staging their own protest.

A few were injured in all the ruckus, but that had nothing to do with Bad.

If anything, the sheep were happy to have his support.

Some of them even thanked him.

As for the little pigs…well, it wasn’t his fault he had a cold. He’d come over for his weekend visit as usual, but they’d heard his wheeze and wouldn’t let him come in. He’d been forced to stand outside huffing and puffing until their fences were coated in green wolf mucus.

They had no right to sue for damages.

Pigs couldn’t even get lupusitis, for crying out loud.

Big Bad thought about all this and sighed. He didn’t know how he was getting out of any of this.

But he did know one thing for sure – the media was going to get this all wrong.



Written for Tale Weaver #121 25.05.17: Reverse/Naughty Fairy Tales (Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie)