Ana Cristina
Joined May 2009 and calls I blog, therefore I am. home.
24 stories, 0 challenges, 73 comments, and 50 friends
I am an English teacher who is madly in love with words and maybe even a fictional character or two.
Stories
-
Bubbles [poem]
on our last night together we went to see a movie and visited a toy store it was 1999 and we were on the verge of everything I still remember how still that night was the hot May air windless your eyes just as still I felt a tremor of presentiment an...
-
Contusion [poem]
shudder shock of blood that rises lava-like beneath my skin — crimson in its urgency sudden in its intensity all my limbs are frozen, inarticulate as I am made newly aware of the fragile cage that houses me I rub at the unfurling bruise as if t...
-
Possession
You loved my long hair — Begged me never to cut it. Now it’s mine again. (I think I previously published this on Ficlets, but I don’t remember. Anyway, it’s a true story all right. There’s nothing more liberating than get...
-
Broken [poem]
I am bone-white and broken bewildered by your absence tortured by my memories remembering promises made now unmade remembering days spent now unspent as if yesterday never happened as if tomorrow never will as if all the water in the world is not enoug...
-
The Last Night
On the last night I saw you, Your eyes were a riot of colors: Blue-Gray-Green-Gold. I swam their endless depths, Hoping to find you — But you just disappeared In a flash of either desire or despair (The two always indistinguishable in you), Leavi...
-
inside her absence lies a promise sure as stone [poem]
Bright echoes of life and laughter dance across the hall, Her voice reverberating - Thrumming the air Like so many strings. Just because she is gone does not mean I feel her any less. Inside her absence lies a promise sure as stone And green as tomo...
-
Claim to Fame
Ms. Malone’s claim to fame was that she was an extra in the film “Rudy.” In a pivotal scene towards the end of the movie, during the all-important football game, she appeared as a cheerleader. It was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of part, bu...
-
The Cradle
She lies in a cloud of gauze edged with pink, The color echoing in her blossoming cheeks. Her eyes, though closed, are fluttering to the movement of dreams, And there is a ghost of a smile Tugging at the corner of her lips. I feel a peculiar surge of b...
-
Elegy [poem]
Black thoughts on a starless night with no clouds. I lie awake, haunted by impressions That darken my memory like thick shrouds. Your infinite theater of expressions, Your magnificent eyes, ocher and gold, The strange way you used to enter a room As if...
-
Benton Wakes Up
Benton’s voice had a strange, strangled sound to it. Neither Nanny Annie nor Aveline could quite figure out what he was saying. Suddenly, the winds outside picked up in intensity. Nanny Annie seemed oblivious to it, still bent over the prone man....
-
Nanny Annie
1 hour later, the winds died down. 2 hours later, a child with bright red hair and emerald green eyes was born. 3 hours later, the child’s mother was dead. ~ 9 years later … “Aveline, get down from there! You’ll crease your dres...
-
Aveline
The night Aveline was born was the night the winds came to Restrepo. These were not the usual soft, whispering winds that blew on the plains and flirted with the curtains in the window — these were serious, life-taking winds. They battered the wa...
-
Of a Boy and a Girl [poem]
How do I tell the story Of a boy and a girl falling in love Without describing the scent of rain: Its pungent, dog-heavy smell Making her nose crinkle, Making him laugh at her. Their steps both impulsive and hesitant On this long walk home from school....
-
Chance [another obscenely short poem]
I am in love with possibility Infatuated with chance It’s the might-have-been’s And could-I-do’s That excite me Propelling me forward Towards the next golden opportunity.
-
At the beach [poem]
At the beach I watch seagulls Flirt with gravity. I can feel all my problems fading As I lift my face to receive the sun. I sink toes into seemingly bottomless sand And contemplate what it means To be meaningless — Just another grain in the hourglass...
-
My Dishonest Heart [a teeny, tiny poem]
my dishonest heart pretends I don’t love you but your name’s in my veins every contraction a clue beating out the syllables unraveling the truth
-
Sometimes I wonder if there is ink in these veins [poem]
I am not so much a who as a where Constantly in flux Moving butterfly-like from one idea To the next Try to pin me down and you’ll only cut yourself On paper-dolls and crumpled balls Of ideas best left in the waste bin Sometimes I wonder if there...
-
We stand [poem]
We stand in snow drifts We stand in stasis Your hand is cold in mine Your hand lets mine go I want to touch you I want too many things The world is quiet The world is inside-out We watch the stars fall We watch our hearts break Your eyes were familiar ...
-
Fireflies
She turned away from me laughing, her hand reaching up to open a cupboard. We were in her kitchen. The spare light of evening lay in between us like a gossamer blanket. That transparent. That full of possibilities, of stones unturned and doors unopened...
-
I wish... [poem]
I wish somebody had told me you don’t stop growing up just because you’re grown up I wish somebody had shown me the right way to tell a friend when you feel they’re no longer your friend I wish somebody had given me some tips on deali...
-
The Guy
Jill entered the room in a swirl of cheap perfume. Her eyes were bright, excited. I sighed and put down my book. “You’ll never guess!” she exclaimed, all but jumping up and down in place. “Guess what?” I asked perfunctoril...
-
Near Her
I was walking along the shore when I saw her. She stood facing the sea, ribbons of her raven black hair being tossed every which way by the wind. Her shoulders were hunched, as though she were nestling something very close to her chest. I longed to cal...
-
Ode to Morning
Breath on the glass like a tiny fog. Fingers curling in my lap. I brush the condensation away And watch your progress across the field. Your spine is stiff with cold or pride — I don’t know which. My eyes are wide, Unblinking, Despite the m...
-
Everything in the Right Place
Lydia walked up the stairs wearily, a sheaf of dark hair covering her face like a raven’s wing. “Brian?” she called out as she reached the second landing. Her voice echoed back, the sound of it mocking to her ears. She shrugged out of...
![[pens&feathers]](http://cdn.ficly.com/icons/252/avatar.jpg){kind=icon}
