Hahah... the story line is not as sharp as I wanted (wrote it with brain half-aslept last night). So the human wandering around in the futuristic ruins, found one very old robot who tried to convince her to approve his self-destruct (he was probably programmed to do so after > 50 years... who knows..). The human was just probably excited to find a robot companion and jokingly told him about the everlasting validity setting. The robot searched within his dictionary and found the contradiction of his falling apart shells and 'forevermore' concept, so he tried to clarify if she was saying something sarcastic. (We had managed to divert Miguel's lovey dovey setting to some sci-fi).
It started well enough but then the pinpricks started to appear in the fabric of our marriage. Before long those pinpricks had become small holes, so small we didn't notice.
We were too busy living our lives to realise that the gaps were getting bigger until finally there was a gaping chasm between us, growing larger.
We stand on either side and shout across wonder if we can mend this rift or if it will be like this forevermore.
I put this story up this afternoon. I know I did. The same thing happened yesterday. Is it me?
I was sure she I heard her say “Nevermore,” when she walked away. I felt a piece of my heart breaking at the echo of her words. I stood, rooted to one spot, until she turned and looked at me.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Did you mean it? Nevermore?”
“That’s not what I said. I said Forevermore. I love you forevermore. From now until my last breath — my dying breath. Forevermore. What’s the matter? Hope it’s not too long?”
Once, not so long ago, I thought I’d live here forevermore—including being buried on the same ground where my "wife," brother, mother, and father lay, decaying forevermore. Yet now, I am no longer so sure. The weight of belonging has shifted, the certainty of roots loosened. Life, unpredictable as ever, whispers of elsewhere, of movement, of roads not yet walked. Perhaps forevermore is not a place, but a feeling—one I have yet to truly find.
Sammy was one of the originals. Him and Angus arrived at the club sometime around the year 1847. Everyone loved them.
They trooped up to the clubhouse, mashie-niblicks a' swirlin', jolly and singin' some fine old Scots' ditty about hitting the Links on a fine, misty morn.
And then set to their daily, endless - or so it seemed to them - tasks in and around the course.
Both of them, after all, had said it was where they'd want to go when they died. Heaven, they said, was a forever on the Links.
Yep, everyone loved them.
Then one morn, they just weren't there anymore.
Everyone thought this was forevermore.
It was to Ruby the little flash of disconcerting awareness came.
Larry narrowed his eyes. 'What's up hon?"
"This Afterlife ain't forevermore, Larry."
"Whadya mean?"
"There's something we all forgot, see. Reincarnation, Larry. Reincarnation. We all gotta go sometime..."
Their horses beat the earth like a drum as they drew up their lines opposite the oblique battle formation that presented the last obstacle between himself and the hand of his One True Love. His men didn't care about that, though. They were here for the lucrative sinecures they expected when he gained administration of her dowry, the Duchy of Evermore. He spurred into the charge and lifted high his lance as the riders roared out their battle cry.
My kids worry when I talk to you, but they don't understand. You're living in the books you've read, in the letters you've written, in the blooming gardens you planted. You're wrapped up in the furniture you built, in the painted walls of every room. You still feed me with the recipes you left behind.
You're in my heart, you're in my head, you're in my soul. How can anyone say you're nevermore, when my love for you grows forevermore?
On summer days, Edgar and Virginia liked to walk together to an enormous rock overlooking the Hudson River. When she was unwell, he sat alone, watching the water, dreaming. A big black bird flew by -- was it an omen? What if it could speak, he wondered.
His wife's violent coughing fits terrified him. Was she dying? Life without her was unimaginable. Surely they would be reunited in the hereafter one day.
We all were gathered in the tiny hospital room. Every so often someone would duck out of the room for a few minutes only to return with redder eyes.
Arthur, the love of my life, was nearing the end of his life. We were waiting quietly, with great love, when suddenly he started to move his lips as if he had something he wanted to say.
I moved my head closer to his mouth. “Forevermore my love,” he whispered. “Forevermore.”
Microdosing Fiction - 80mg of Forevermore
===
‘Could you please approve my self-decommissioning proposal?’
“Nope.”
‘But I’ve surpassed my programmed longevity.’
The girl raised an eyebrow but kept checking his back panel.
She couldn't believe the treasure she stumbled upon in the ruins.
She looked at the robot’s shell; she doubted it could move for 30 days non-stop.
‘My program is 50 years old.’
“I’ll exempt you. I’ll extend your program’s validity… forevermore.”
She reinstalled the screws and cover to his back.
‘Is it a sarcastic tone?’
This are looking up for Mr. Robot (?)! I hope he finds happiness...
Well, not sure if he knows happiness, but the human implies he has some features that she can use….:)
That comment about sarcasm at the end has me a mite worried about her intentions - Mr. Robot may be headed for trouble!
Hahah... the story line is not as sharp as I wanted (wrote it with brain half-aslept last night). So the human wandering around in the futuristic ruins, found one very old robot who tried to convince her to approve his self-destruct (he was probably programmed to do so after > 50 years... who knows..). The human was just probably excited to find a robot companion and jokingly told him about the everlasting validity setting. The robot searched within his dictionary and found the contradiction of his falling apart shells and 'forevermore' concept, so he tried to clarify if she was saying something sarcastic. (We had managed to divert Miguel's lovey dovey setting to some sci-fi).
Good job of diversion! 😎
Forevermore – 80mg
It started well enough but then the pinpricks started to appear in the fabric of our marriage. Before long those pinpricks had become small holes, so small we didn't notice.
We were too busy living our lives to realise that the gaps were getting bigger until finally there was a gaping chasm between us, growing larger.
We stand on either side and shout across wonder if we can mend this rift or if it will be like this forevermore.
I put this story up this afternoon. I know I did. The same thing happened yesterday. Is it me?
I was sure she I heard her say “Nevermore,” when she walked away. I felt a piece of my heart breaking at the echo of her words. I stood, rooted to one spot, until she turned and looked at me.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Did you mean it? Nevermore?”
“That’s not what I said. I said Forevermore. I love you forevermore. From now until my last breath — my dying breath. Forevermore. What’s the matter? Hope it’s not too long?”
PROMPT: FOREVERMORE
THE S’MORES
It was time to rehearse the pivotal scene in the workhouse.
Clutching his script, the nervous little boy playing Oliver meekly said, “Please, Sir, I want some s’mores.”
“S’mores?” said the Director, confused and appalled.
The two urchins who had mischievously altered the famous line, laughed.
But the rest of the cast said they liked it, and it made things more modern.
“The line is ‘more’!” said the frustrated Director, “It’s always been ‘more’, and it shall be forever ‘more’…” 😎
Those kids shouldn't mess with Dickins. 😂
Haha! They were just trying to put a new 'twist' on it... 😎
Ouch, good one!
😎👍
Wicked little instrument.
Ebony barrel. Flowing silver overlay. Gilded rune inlays for teasing the eyes with each quarter turn.
Your fingers long to hold it, to guide the fourteen karat nib across paper so frail and orange.
You lust over words so exalted. Seven of them. Seven exactly.
And you will come to hold it, as I once did, to write just so...
Here I shall sit.
For.
Ever.
More.
I don’t know how I keep hitting 70, but I do, no matter what the dose was supposed to be. Strange phenomenon.
There's a poltergeist in this 'Stack. 👻
80 words: Forevermore
“How much do you love me?” she asked.
“More than I did yesterday,” he answered.
“And how much did you love me yesterday?”
“For…ever,” he answered.
“I didn’t ask for how long. How much.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “For…every mortal…there has been…ever, and more, for…their love, I’ve loved you…more. Than ever…for…”
“For?”
“Ever.”
“That’s it?”
“No. For there’s more. More than ever. For…ever, and more.”.
“Are you a poet?”
“Never. Just a romantic—nothing more.”
“And you’ll love me forever?”
“More.”
Nonsense, but I'm falling asleep. G'night all.
Star struck lovers
Forever is enough,
no need for more,
he said,
while stars rained down
about his head,
and flowers bloomed
about her feet.
I never thought
that we would meet
in this old town,
this quiet street,
she said, while roses bled.
No more did he
expect perfection,
but never is the same
destination as forever,
in the opposite direction.
80mg of FOREVERMORE
Once, not so long ago, I thought I’d live here forevermore—including being buried on the same ground where my "wife," brother, mother, and father lay, decaying forevermore. Yet now, I am no longer so sure. The weight of belonging has shifted, the certainty of roots loosened. Life, unpredictable as ever, whispers of elsewhere, of movement, of roads not yet walked. Perhaps forevermore is not a place, but a feeling—one I have yet to truly find.
In Welsh we've got a word for that - Hiraeth
Sammy was one of the originals. Him and Angus arrived at the club sometime around the year 1847. Everyone loved them.
They trooped up to the clubhouse, mashie-niblicks a' swirlin', jolly and singin' some fine old Scots' ditty about hitting the Links on a fine, misty morn.
And then set to their daily, endless - or so it seemed to them - tasks in and around the course.
Both of them, after all, had said it was where they'd want to go when they died. Heaven, they said, was a forever on the Links.
Yep, everyone loved them.
Then one morn, they just weren't there anymore.
Everyone thought this was forevermore.
It was to Ruby the little flash of disconcerting awareness came.
Larry narrowed his eyes. 'What's up hon?"
"This Afterlife ain't forevermore, Larry."
"Whadya mean?"
"There's something we all forgot, see. Reincarnation, Larry. Reincarnation. We all gotta go sometime..."
Forevermore
Their horses beat the earth like a drum as they drew up their lines opposite the oblique battle formation that presented the last obstacle between himself and the hand of his One True Love. His men didn't care about that, though. They were here for the lucrative sinecures they expected when he gained administration of her dowry, the Duchy of Evermore. He spurred into the charge and lifted high his lance as the riders roared out their battle cry.
My kids worry when I talk to you, but they don't understand. You're living in the books you've read, in the letters you've written, in the blooming gardens you planted. You're wrapped up in the furniture you built, in the painted walls of every room. You still feed me with the recipes you left behind.
You're in my heart, you're in my head, you're in my soul. How can anyone say you're nevermore, when my love for you grows forevermore?
Absolutely beautiful! It's so true people are never really gone. Fragments of them live on all around us, just like you described... 😎
Thank you. My husband is still with me, but it sometimes feels like my deceased father and mother-in-law are still around.
Once upon a midday bright, as I dressed in gown of white,
Embracing many a quaint custom of forgotten lore—
While I giggled, nearly laughing, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at the Bride's room door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at the Bride's room door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was a sunny day;
Each separate flower cast its shadow on the floor
I prepared to vow, "Forevermore."
(with apologies to E.A. Poe)
Haha! Brilliant! And a very clever interpretation of the prompt... 😎
Oh, what a lovely version! And the ravens will sing!
Thanks!!! :)
You're very welcome.
FOREVERMORE (80)
On summer days, Edgar and Virginia liked to walk together to an enormous rock overlooking the Hudson River. When she was unwell, he sat alone, watching the water, dreaming. A big black bird flew by -- was it an omen? What if it could speak, he wondered.
His wife's violent coughing fits terrified him. Was she dying? Life without her was unimaginable. Surely they would be reunited in the hereafter one day.
Nevermore, said the raven.
Forevermore, Virginia whispered.
We all were gathered in the tiny hospital room. Every so often someone would duck out of the room for a few minutes only to return with redder eyes.
Arthur, the love of my life, was nearing the end of his life. We were waiting quietly, with great love, when suddenly he started to move his lips as if he had something he wanted to say.
I moved my head closer to his mouth. “Forevermore my love,” he whispered. “Forevermore.”
Elson held an open book in his hand. “Quoth the Raven, ‘Forevermore.’”
“What? Read that again,” I said.
He studied the page closely, put his finger on it. “Yeah, it says ‘Forevermore.’”
“That’s not right.” I looked around at the bookshelves. My hand went to a volume. “The Sisters Karamazov?”
“That’s not the only one. I’m not sure but it looks like a lot of the titles are off.”
I looked at the portal gun in my hand. “Oh crap.”
We had the same idea -- just a little!
YAAASSSSSSS
Oooh, now I have ideas for this one! And I really enjoyed your 80 words, Miguel 😊