Shadows of Fire ~ Tryst Fiction

~Tryst Fiction~


Shadows of Fire


There was a time when our fire burnned deep between us.

It was like we would never grow old and tired.

The passion and energy would build higher and higher with each moment we spent together.

Then life happened and your fire was slightly dimmer each year.

Yet, you can still see my passion, if you watch the shadows of my spirit that follow me, as you continue to walk the other way.


~J. Lefever~



~This piece is written for Lillie McFerrin ~


Five Sentence Fiction – Shadows

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.


This week: SHADOWS




 ©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication


Battered Wings ~ Tryst Fiction

Five Sentence Fiction ~ Tryst Fiction


Battered Wings

Tattered and torn, she still carries her wings.

She has been battered and bruised watching over me.

The task has not been easy, as I have lived a dangerous life.

She was given a girl who chose the darkest roads.

Yet, she has watched over her, guiding her home with light every night.


This piece is done for Lillie McFerrin

Five Sentence Fiction – Angles


What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.

This week: ANGLES


 ©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication

The Train

This is a short, poetic story about life. A life in change. A life in a pivotal moment. Life is kind of like ridding on a train. As we move forward, the world & scenery will change around us, as we are always in possession of the same soul. Although our souls stay with us where ever we go, it too grows, and learns, and feels, and experiences… 
So as we continue to live, how much does the world change? How much do you grow as a result of these external changes? Where is your train headed now? And from what has your life moved on from…?
This piece is a duet written by my darling Shruti & myself, Miss Tryst. We hope you enjoy… and take something from it, as we did writing it. Visit A Shade Of Pen to see more from my darling Shruti. I am truly grateful that my life has connected with hers
This is a work of fiction

The Train
Blinded by a blur
Of many shades of green
With my heart left open
Broken For all to see
Moving forward, not looking back
I am leaving the town
For my next chapter
I boarded the train
Leaving my tears on the street
Looking out beyond what my eyes can see
Something different, time to breathe
I have left happy times behind
I look back at those times
With longingness rooted in my eyes
I loved to be what I was
But, how long could I live in the past
So, bidding goodbye to all regrets
Here, I am walking ahead
I have hopes and yet I am scared
Will a new step take me to places I would love
Or will my soul remain locked in lanes of yesterday?
Crushed, like the
Velvet in the seats
I hold my regrets
This one last time
Perplexed by the reality
I am leaving behind
Forgiveness, oh, how I wish
Things could only be so easy
As the train pulls me forward
One by one, I release my memories
Looking out the window
I touch my finger tips to the cold glass window
With the blur of the world
Moving behind the palm of my hand
Back and forth in time I go
As the train lurches me forward
I try hopelessly to free myself from the shackles of yesterday
Tomorrow a new sun will rise
And with it, the endless nights would end
Unaware of what my future would be, I can’t help but smile
Because the thrill of a new ride
Was always enough to keep me alive
Finally, I have reached a new land
As I step down, I am amazed at the view
So many things are same… and yet they all feel so new
Looking ahead
Elements surrounding me
Laughing at my fear of yesterday
Embracing the fact that
I am here for a reason…
I am here for a reason…
Leaving you with things left, still
To the imagining mind.
Written by Shruti & Tryst
To see this piece on A Shade Of Pen, follow the link provided
 ©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication

Wall of Words ~ Tryst Fiction

Wall of Words ~ Tryst Fiction


I walked up to the wall where thousands had already stood.

My eyes falling upon the written messages of those who came to see the devastation.

The aftermath of crumbled stone and broken glass was everywhere, in the center of the city.

I run my hand over the wall of words.

The only thing left standing is now a shrine of lyrical hope.


 ~ J. Lefever


A Lillie McFerrin Piece ~ Five Sentence Fiction


What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.


This week: WORDS



©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication

A Business Endeavour ~ Trifecta on Tryst

A Business Endeavour ~ Trifecta on Tryst



I couldn’t have asked for a more profitable business endeavour.


It worked out flawlessly! By the time I am gone, they will never know what hit them! I bought the entire company for a fraction of what it is worth, and sold it in parts to different investors. The development of this plan was pure brilliance. I always had a knack for taking things apart. Who knew it would work with a multi-million dollar company and look so good on paper!


I was beaming when I walked out of the conference room. I had made some good contacts and networked some top-notch VIP’s in the industry. Some nice jewels to add to my rolodex. I shook hands with the last of the men whose money I was happy to be taking and picked up my briefcase, which was filled with crisp C-notes, enough to make it rain all the way to my car.


I had a certain, Je ne sais quoi, when I stood waiting for the elevator to take me down to the lobby. I felt like I was finally worthy of walking across the marble floors of the building. I pushed the heavy glass doors open and stepped out into the evening air. Dusk was upon the city and the city never looked better. A growing metropolis full of opportunity, and there I was. I had arrived just like I had once dreamed. The city was mine for the taking and this was just the beginning.


When I got back to my place, I looked around. It is definitely time for a new place.


I opened my briefcase and picked up a stack of perfect one hundred-dollar bills and I tossed it into the air, watching them flutter and float down, landing softly around me.


I always wanted to do that. When I made it big, I knew I would. Make it rain!


 ~ J. Lefever

This is a work of Fiction


 A Trifecta Piece ~ Week Seventy-One 


On to this week’s one-word prompt which, this week, is inspired by the recent arrival of the Hong Kong monsoons and the start of April in general.

rain (transitive verb)
1: to pour down
2: to give or administer abundantly <rained blows on his head>

3: to take a lot of money in bill form and toss it up in the air. This is most effectively done at a strip club for the effect of raining one dollar bills on the dancers (and it makes them feel so pretty), or to snub a hater by throwing money into their face that then falls to the floor like rain (use this when paying a debt to a punk bitch who keeps asking for their money to the point that they are ruining your friendship or when dumping someone who has been bankrolling you for a while now that you’re making money).
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words. 
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post. 
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response. 
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above. 
  • Only one entry per writer. 
  • If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz. 
  • Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us. 

This weeks word is ~ Rain

 Good luck!
 ©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication


Club Seamless ~ Tryst Fiction

Club Seamless ~ Tryst Fiction



An Interview ~

Her: I can’t imagine doing anything else for a living. I get off on the lights, the glitter, the barely-there fringe that leaves the men on the edge of their seat, and my body moving to the beat of the music while the base rattles through the floor. I love my job. I get to drink when I want to, sleep all day, take money from desperate and lonely men and make up stories about where I come from. Everyday, I can be someone new! Each lap I sit on, I get to decide what can and can’t happen. While I am on the stage, they stare and drool for me!! Leaving with the fantasies that only my sexiest body movements puts into their minds… the rest is their imagination. But they imagine me!! They fantasize about me!! And the paper… oh, the paper work is good. Staks up to a grand some nights, enough to make my shit rain. Those are the nights when I go home, still covered in sequins and glitter, throw my paper into the air, just to watch it fall to the floor around me. Stacks are hard to make in just a few hours work these days, a workin man will break his back for a stack, I just shake a lil skin in a dark club and I can make a stack! Why would I ever think of not dancing? I work the night hours and fill my pockets with stacks!! I get to choose who gets a private dance or not, I call the shots!! 

Her: I don’t really know how else to make paper like this. My momma was a dancer. I remember being a little girl. Momma would bring me to the club with her and leave me back stage. She let me play with the make-up and the little outfits but told me to stay in the back. I was never allowed to come up front, even look. It would be my ass if I even stole a peak up front! It didn’t stop me though, I looked out to the stage. I knew, that first moment I saw a girl dancing, I wanted to be on that stage. I wanted to control a crowd like that.


Tryst: I see what you are saying. You think you have control over your life. You think you are your own boss, is that right?


Her: I am my own boss!! I say who gets what when I’m dancin’!! You bet yo’ ass I run me!! People only wish they had the power of a night temptress!!


Tryst: So, you make stacks, you call your own shots and you lure in the men with false promises and cheap costumes and you think others are envious of this? What about blow jobs? Do you hand those out by choice?


Her: Shit!! Now, that’s a lotta work!! They don’t call that a job for nothin!! Maybe for some stacks… maybe for some stacks…


~ J. Lefever

This is a Work of Fiction.

This has no reflection on the things that I would do for ‘stacks’!! Just something fun to get me out of my head this afternoon. XoXo


©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication



Ordinary World *˚♥ .ღ˛° ♥* °♥ ˚ • *

Ordinary World *˚♥ .ღ˛° ♥* °♥ ˚ •  *
     ~ A Tryst Mish Mash Piece   
It was a time when people had manners
And displayed them as though they were the
Height of sophistication, with all details remembered
We were exquisite when we walked through the streets
My chin up, posed with pride and beauty
My delicate facial features, soft, creamy in the sun
As the sunset falls to the horizon
Much like we were soon to fall, only us oblivious
To this intimate fact, which was, none-the-less
A hope of no one but our own
We were all we could see
Time passed
As elegant as we continued to be
At every social event, included in all the latest words
Which also floated around
As quick & as temporary as the man who chooses
His company for the evening
Depending on his level of excitement, and
Lack of commitment
Yet, those women to make a quick choice upon
Were not ever thought of
For a term of longevity
Or for any of the reasons & responsibilities
Of which a woman like me waited so long
To kiss young women-hood good-bye and
Wake to the sunlight by opening the curtains
In the master bed room
To see white linen, everywhere, a mess
But this was allowed for a Tryst of this kind
Finally we became one
Looking over her bare-naked shoulder
While the pink & orange lights of early morning
Peaked through the wild curls of her messy hair
Through the window pane, but no pain of the heart
And She smiles at him
Thinking of the night before
Hand in hand, walking the boardwalk
The rose in his lapel had been used in warm
Foreplay, which was only post behavior
To the display of romantic affections they had left
In pieces, everywhere they went that night
The night before, this very moment
As this woman finds such comfort
In the bold masculinity her eyes fall upon
Painting her mind with a future full of gold
And gold, as in internal richness
Love of the right and ultimate kind
The kind that artists display on tapestries
Framed in thick elegance that hang upon
The walls of homes, harboring the desire
Of love of the perfect kind
Giving reason to all the things we are told
Growing up, coming to this time
When we get to look at our future
Vulnerable, naked and wrapped up in
Our white linen fairytale
Which then became a reality
Following the expectations of society
Conforming to the molds
That everyone thinks they should be
And this is why, today
As I stand here, naked & vulnerable myself
Vision staring deep into
What is to become of me, my soul
I decide to jump
Outside of the box
Hand in hand with my love
Into the unknown
Unpredictable, because I
Am anything but normal
I, just like my love
Is not in a box, just like my soul, I
Live a strange & wonderfully different
Life that is mine, is ours, we became
In that moment, defining my soul, and I
Am anything but ordinary
~ J. Lefever ~
I really have no clue why this came out of me… These words… I came to write something and I got something completely different from what I had expected. That’s one of the great things about the ‘Art of Writing’ … it is art of the soul. There are no rules when it comes to self-expression. You can be free to write anything your soul desires. Your words become something, that turns around and tells us something, representing you.
What is more beautiful than that? 
((For the curious mind, Mish Mash is my way of saying miscellaneous))
©Think. Speak. Tryst. Publication