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~ ripples

sebnemsanders

Tag Archives: past

My Flash Fiction Story, Elsewhere, is at the Ekphrastic Review

22 Saturday Oct 2022

Posted by SebnemSanders in blog post, Fiction, Flash Fiction, micro-fiction, publications

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Tags

amreading, amwriting, Annaliese Jakimides, autumn, Ekphrastic Challenge, Ekphrastic Fiction, Ekphrastic Review, Fiction, Flash Fiction, future, hope, loss, love, memories, microfiction, past, portals, present, publication, Time-Molt Tender, time-travel, writerscommunity

Time-Molt, Tender, by Annaliese Jakimides (USA) 2022

I’m honoured to have my flash fiction story, Elsewhere, at the Ekphrastic Review, along with many talented writers and poets. Many thanks to Annaliese Jakimides for her inspiring painting as the ekphrastic challenge and to Lorette C. Luzajic for her wonderful literary magazine.

Here’s the link:

https://www.ekphrastic.net/the-ekphrastic-challenges/ekphrastic-writing-responses-annaliese-jakimides?fbclid=IwAR1OQcHYxWX_WnCLWxjQllMNBLdFeetmSzcBDNYfvqM5OK26jNVA1pdNf4s

Thank you very much for reading. 🙂

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My story, House of Detachment, is in the September Issue of The Bosphorus Review of Books

03 Tuesday Sep 2019

Posted by SebnemSanders in blog post, Flash Fiction, Newsfeed, publications, Uncategorized

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Tags

addiction, apathy, attachment, Bosphorus Review of Books, dependence, detachment, elimination, erasure, Flash Fiction, happiness, memories, neutrality, pain, past, publications, remembrance, September Issue, sorrow

Bosphorus Rreview of Books Logo

 

Many thanks to the Editor, Luke Frostic, for publishing my story, House of Detachment, from  Ripples on the Pond ,in the September Issue of  The Bosphorus Review of Books  .

Here’s the link to the story:

https://bosphorusreview.com/house-of-detachment?fbclid=IwAR22dgYkEM18QfyPjUAhPRDlVGI84csiUWS2ORhpWi5y-1PO9UoU00ActyA

And the link to the contents of the September Issue of  The Bosphorus Review of Books , full of interesting articles and selections of fiction and poetry:

https://bosphorusreview.com/new-page-70

 

Many thanks for reading. 🙂

 

Sebnem

 

brob_sept19_calico

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Movies

12 Sunday Aug 2018

Posted by SebnemSanders in Flash Poesy, Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

butterfly effect, casualty, dreams, empathy, grand finale, learning, lesson, life, loneliness, loss, love, movies, past, play, present, purpose

Movie-Tavern-Blog-Hero-Image

 

 

Watching movies to pass time,

Benjamin Button, Up in the Air and Babel

butterfly effect with the underlying theme of loneliness,

feeling the empathy for the love and loss,

of youth, dreams and purpose

It’s easy to analyse the past,

to death, sometimes,

but analysing the present is hard,

why we have become who we are,

without dissecting the contributing factors

How did I get here?

Can I time-travel and put it right,

or am I just a casualty of the past,

in my loneliness among the crowds?

Will I age backwards like Benjamin Button

in complete memory loss,

from diapers to diapers

in the reverse order?

Or will I continue existing Up in the Air

with free miles on my card I won’t be able to spend?

Token miles for life expire within a set time,

no longer valid in this act of the play,

intermission, suspense,

and the anticipation for the grand finale,

which we’ll only know when the play ends.

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Mirror, Mirror

19 Thursday Apr 2018

Posted by SebnemSanders in Flash Fiction, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

aging, approval, illusion, images, memories, memory, mind's eye, mirror, moment, past, present, reality, reflection, time, vanity, vision

Mirror 2

 

An ad I came across on the Internet got me pondering. Round mirror for sale, never used.

Once I arrived home, I confronted the hexagonal, guild-framed mirror hanging in my lounge, one I’ve had for a while. “Are you used? Your frame must be chipped and the glass slightly scratched, but that’s not what I mean.”

How can a mirror be not-used? Hasn’t the factory worker ever looked in it after coating the glass with a reflective surface? The framer assessed his work, as he raked his fingers through his hair? Hasn’t the seller peeked and winked at it while smoothing his tie? Or a female customer paused in front of it for a moment to refresh her make-up, and continued shopping. So it’s not wear and tear I’m talking about, it’s the functionality, the main task of a mirror that should count.

A mirror’s first duty is to create a perfect reflection of the person or an object in front of it. If we accept some of the above probabilities to be true, then we must conclude that the mirror has been used. Yet, there’s no proof because the mirror doesn’t have a memory. It doesn’t record anything. There’s no flashback, a rewind button, or any tangible evidence. In that sense, a mirror is inferior to a camera that produces printed or digital copies which people can later peruse and reminisce the moment.

So, my lovely looking glass of  thirty years, every time I glance at you, you reflect back my current state, but nothing from the past, when I was younger. Nor my late mother’s image when she stood before you and touched her hair, or any glimpses of my beloveds who are no longer in my life. You say the departed cannot be perceived with the eye because they become tiny specks of light. I agree with that, but I’m still here, so are the estranged ones.

I can’t remember when I first saw my own reflection in one, but I do recall watching my father shave before the bathroom mirror, his face covered in white foam. And my mother sitting at her dressing table and putting on lipstick, then dabbing it lightly with her finger.

Is it vanity, a narcissistic habit that we consult mirrors for approval each day? Or is it a self-destructive approach that gives us pain as we age? I don’t know when the attachment starts, perhaps with a shy peek during teenage years, until it becomes an addictive routine. I’m three-dimensional, though the image you project is two-dimensional, an illusion of how others see me, just like the photos.

Yet, when I look into you, I see other things than what you show me. I can search your depths and bring back visions from my mind’s eye. Maybe I should avoid you, stop witnessing my aging process, if not day by day, but from year to year. Perhaps, you’re being kind by not showing me the past. Telling me I should stay in the moment and not delve into the folds of time.

Sometimes I see my mother peeking back at me or my grandmother’s eyes in mine. Other times the radiant face of a young girl greets me with a smile and whispers, “What will be, will be.”

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The Loss

11 Sunday Jun 2017

Posted by SebnemSanders in Flash Fiction, Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

loss, love, memories, past, separation

Many thanks for publishing my drabble. 🙂

love-1643452_1920

By Sebnem Sanders

I wish I could forget, but I can’t. I’ve rewound the tape, it’s on repeat. The island, the beach and the sun. The cities, the dinners, the fun. The cottage, our love and the river. Me sick with flu, you and your tennis elbow.

The Far East, the last of the colonials and the tropical storms. The first Walkman, the automatic camera.

My town, your town, and the path that brought us together, for a while, then split. Did I understand? No. Did you? I hope so.

I’m writing about love. I have no other reference. So I indulge.

      
Sebnem E. Sanders is a native of Istanbul, Turkey. Her work has appeared on the Harper Collins Authonomy Blog, Sick Lit Magazine, Twisted Sister Lit Mag, and Spelkfiction.

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Recent Posts

  • A Gift to Remember, a Christmas Story
  • My Flash Fiction Story, Elsewhere, is at the Ekphrastic Review
  • My Flash Fiction Story, Désirée, is at the Subject and Verb Agreement Press Blog Spot
  • My flash fiction story, Interstellar, is at the Ekphrastic Review
  • My Story, The Stranger, is published in Pure Slush’s Appointment at 10.30 Anthology

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  • A Gift to Remember, a Christmas Story
  • My Flash Fiction Story, Elsewhere, is at the Ekphrastic Review
  • My Flash Fiction Story, Désirée, is at the Subject and Verb Agreement Press Blog Spot
  • My flash fiction story, Interstellar, is at the Ekphrastic Review
  • My Story, The Stranger, is published in Pure Slush’s Appointment at 10.30 Anthology

Recent Comments

SebnemSanders on A Gift to Remember, a Christma…
Fran Macilvey on A Gift to Remember, a Christma…
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