It Doesn’t Care

Hal had me pondering a bit more about this recent piece


It still astounds me
how fast and unforgiving
fate’s hands can be.

How can a life be so
quickly and relentlessly taken…

Without any fucking remorse?

As life comes at us, it certainly does feel like it has no remorse. At times, it feels relentless in providing us one lash of the whip after the other, doesn’t it? Bit of a sadist, I’d also say. After reflection, my answer to the question posed in the piece is simply this…

Nature is an immortal and indiscriminate serial killer.

What do you think? And what does it take to keep on going?

C – Part 5

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

“Oh, Miss. Hello, Miss! MISS! HELLO?!?!” said the impatient man at the counter. The last few bellows from him shocked her back into reality quite harshly. 

“I’m so sorry, Sir. I was somewhere else for a moment,” Caroline told the customer, feeling hot with embarrassment. She quickly rushed to the counter to attend to his needs.

“A moment?” he asked rather angrily. “More like a lifetime; that’s why I had to get so loud with you! Completely spaced out, is what you were!” 

Geez, suck it, male Karen. “I know, my apologies, again. Don’t worry. I’m all here now, ready to focus on my job. Plus, I’ll end up in tears if I continue to think about it, Caroline thought to herself. “Thanks for bringing me back to the here and now,” she said with a weak smile.

The customer calmed down a bit but still radiated disdain for Caroline as he was giving her his order. She filled out the ticket with his specifications, picked up the menu with an exaggerated thank you and over-the-top friendliness hoping to appease him. And watch, he’ll leave me a $1 tip for kissing his ass. Caroline turned towards the kitchen, rolling her eyes hard towards the ceiling. I cannot WAIT for this shift to be over!

Her workday ended without any other distractions, and thankfully, no more angry customers. Caroline was happy to punch her time card, looking forward to putting up her feet and relaxing at home. 

“Hey, sweetie,” her eyes lit up as she walked into her apartment communicating affectionately with her furry black and white friend. He countered with enthusiastic mewing and snuggling up against her, walking gingerly between her legs. She bent down to pick him up, then quickly sat on the couch to give him her fullest attention. He never failed to bring a smile to her face, his warmth and affection always gave her comfort.  

Caressing her friend, Caroline allowed herself to go back to the past again now that she was home, where she could easily, and without interruption, let herself daydream. And cry. 

The memories of that summer took over again, vivid as always. Caroline relived those passionate, fun-filled, and carefree three months of her life. It was one of the happiest times of her life. Going to Germany had been the best decision, but so hard to leave once the summer was over. No one could have predicted that Caroline and Thomas would find true love. They were all sad her visit had to end, especially the new couple. Regardless, they were determined to make this long-distance relationship work somehow; excitedly, they made plans for their future.

And then, just a month later, she received a devastating letter from Thomas. It shook her to her core. In it, he wrote her that he had been diagnosed with cancer. He said he was so thankful they had the summer together as it turned out they wouldn’t have a future. He hadn’t the strength to tell her this over a call. By the time she got this letter, he had told her he would be dead. It was a rare, very aggressive, and terminal form of cancer. Her love story was over and a phone call from Katja confirmed it.

“I love you, Tomcat,” Caroline said through heavily flowing tears. The sobs tore through her body as she pulled him closer.


Thanks so much for your support of this series! See you next month!

Reblog – only this moment by Ken G.

Eternity, now, reality, life, death – this poem has you pondering it all! Exquisite!


only this moment
without beginning or end
within the circle

This senryū is my response to
Carpe Diem #1802 New Beginnings … without beginning,
with regard to death (and life).

Image source:
On his deathbed, Zen Monk Shinsui (1720-1769), when asked to write a death poem,
is said to have drawn this circle with an ink brush.

View original post

Lorraine Lewis


In between the cracks
Love and eternity peep
Soothing the chaos


Soft words deceived  me
Until I saw through the mask
Now I see clearly


Leaves crunch beneath feet
As  stones cry out in anguish
All now is dying


Nature holds her own
Gulls are shrieking overhead
Echoing our pain  


Journeying in death
I had to let go of you
I travel alone


Heaving the earth threw
Its dark embers into play
Until shoots peeked through


My name is Lorraine Lewis. I have always written poetry but began to write more in earnest following having serious advanced blood cancer and going blind and becoming wheelchair-bound. I greatly enjoy experimenting with different forms of poetry, preferring the shorter forms. Editor’s note – This is Lorraine’s second feature on The Short of It.


If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It, click here for the submissions guidelines.


Smitha Vishwanath

I feel you

In the breeze that blows
I feel thee, caressing me
Tender and gentle

The thing about death

is easy
So I believed
When you have seen it
behaving callously
taking remorselessly
I lost my mother at fifty
A friend at thirty, then another
You were ninety when you died; I still cried

Lessons from my grandma

were a
strong woman
who spoke little
You said, “A woman’s voice must not be heard.”
“To be strong you do not have to be loud.”
is what you said
to me too
I think


bright, beautiful
speckled wings, deep blue; white tips
in the blink of an eye, flies

10 word story

You did not even say, ‘Goodbye,’ to me before leaving.


Smitha Vishwanath likes to call herself an accidental writer. Having worked for 20 years in banking she began writing through her blog in 2016. Her poetry has been published by SpillWords Press, Rebelle Society, Silverbirch Press, Borderless Journal among others. Her first book of poetry – Roads – A Journey with Verses was published in 2019.


If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It, click here for the submissions guidelines.


Your Days

it was coming
i knew it with certainty
and distractions from the truth
failed me

when the phone call came
i braced myself in steely opposition
hardening my body against the cruel words
i was about to hear

she’s dead

only screams of sorrow
and heavy sobs of tears escaped me
i was now in a world
which felt empty and hollow

her eagerness to listen
her kind and gentle ways gone
the smiles and caring on her face
would happen no more

i pushed the receiver from my ear
as if to push away the truth
but knowing that mourning had begun
a new reality, one hard to face

feeling empty without her presence
i was born into a lonely place
her voice and body only in memories now
i miss her grace, her love and her acceptance

time took forever to heal the loss i felt
the place in my heart where she took up residence
darkened, and shriveled up
the air thicker as i inhaled only tears

the light she shone came to an end
but the warmth she gave continues
i always try to celebrate the day she was born
but the day she left, i mourn

Image Credit – Angéle Kamp @ Unsplash

I thank VJ and Sadje for inspiring thoughts of my special friendship. Guess I needed a good cry today. I dedicate this piece to Bana – a wonderful human being and such a catalyst for good – she will always be remembered with a smile and a tear.


for those who have left us
they force us to examine
desires and wishes
for understanding of our previous actions

could those changes solve our miseries
possibly, but if not
unhappiness, our friend
for the time being

miseries befall us
when we don’t take a moment
to address our current reality
life stares at us begging for our involvement

…let’s strive not to have any regrets


Images courtesy of Terry Susi

at times nature is cruel
maintaining a life
becomes desperate attempts
at losing the fight

to the victor go the spoils
sustenance or power taken
sometimes both
rewards taken by force

because kill or be killed
rules the animal kingdom
driven by instinct
to win the battle at all costs

…i’m glad i’m not a savage

Graceful Exit

would that death
were a planned event
no loose ends
affairs put in order
duties transferred
things wrapped up
much like jobs you depart

an escape from this world
that created no hardships
for those left behind
people prepared to face your demise
suffering only a delicate melancholy
rather than a devastating loss
pulling them under

an easy, loving goodbye
no pain to speak of
and feeling all right
when our current reality
abruptly stops for us and them
the finale foretold
gracefully accepted