CWG Week 6 Episode 27
Here we are at week 6 of Kerrie’s Chain Writing Game! This week, Jadir has left the safety of his village and ventured over The Wall. What will he find?
Catch up with the story by clicking on the little blue froggy. My third contribution is below.
Jadir watched as the ships disintegrated. One of them, spewing black smoke, spun overhead, skipped off the top of the remains of the Wall and hurtled towards the fleeing figures of Camilla and Hamis. Jadir turned his back on the scene.
“What now?” he asked Eliya.
Eliya was staring at his eyes, the bright blue glow slowly fading.
“You truly are the chosen one!”
“Did you ever doubt it? What’s next? Let’s finish this.”
“This way,” replied Eliya, still awed. “Over that hill,” she pointed south, “is the fortress of the Ezreet. We finish this now.”
My Heart’s Desire
It’s Friday Fictioneers time, folks. Hosted as ever by Rochelle, a hundred or so bloggers write their 100-ish word take on a photo prompt which this week has been supplied by fictioneerer Dawn M. Miller.
To see all the other contributions, click here.
Well folks, I have nothing! Therefore I have composed a “poem”, using a slightly spurious link with the photo – lamps-light-fire. It has no twists, no comedy or dark humour and is, I suppose, vaguely romantic-ish. Not something I do, but since I don’t want to miss out on a week I’m going to publish it anyway. Then we can all just move on.
And weirdly after I finished it I found it was 101 words. What a fluke.
Copyright Dawn M. Miller
Candle burning in the dark
It calls to me, it calls to me
Sulphur bright, the Devil’s spark
She calls to me, she calls to me.
Eyes like fire, she beckons me
Towards the light, towards the light
My heart’s ensnared, no longer free
Within her light, within her light.
Closer now, I see her face
A face divine, a face divine
Desperate now I quicken pace
To make her mine, to make her mine.
At last she holds me in her arms
Consumed by fire, consumed by fire
No more sorrow, safe from harm
My heart’s desire, my heart’s desire.
The Field of Flowers Award
Guess what? The wonderful Servant Z and Yelloz over at fourcatpaw have nominated me for a fantastic award – the Field of Flowers award – thank you! Take a look at this.
Isn’t that the most wonderful picture? I’m thinking summer picnics with my imaginary girlfriend, I’m thinking skipping barefoot through the grass, I’m thinking breathing in the heady aroma of beautiful flowers – suffice to say I’d quite like to be in that picture.
CWG Week 6 Episode 18
Here we are at week 6 of Kerrie’s Chain Writing Game! This week, Jadir has left the safety of his village and ventured over The Wall. What will he find?
Catch up with the story by clicking on the little blue froggy. My second contribution is below.
(Heh heh – I hope this is OK, I hit “publish” instead of “preview”. You should have heard me swearing 🙂 )
“You are the one. The ancient texts spoke of your coming. The Ezreet will fall at last – this is your destiny!”
“Destiny? I just wanted to see what was on the other side of the wall. This is too much!” Jadir turned and ran back the way they had come.
“Wait!” shouted Eliya, chasing after him.
Jadir ran out of the cave to be confronted by a Terror Bird – it screeched and attacked. Jadir screamed, thrusting his hands out and watched, incredulous, as bolts of light shot from his fingers. The Terror Bird disintegrated with an astonished squawk.
“Now you understand,” said Eliya.
Storybook Corner – Baptism of Fire
This is a little story written for Adam Ickes‘ “Storybook Corner” – a 300-500 word monthly photo prompt. (Quick post-publish update – apparently this is my 200th post. Yay!)
No, that isn’t the photo – the photo is below. Be warned – my story is rather melancholy and dark and not in a funny way, but the photo is of a grave stone, after all.
You can read other submissions this month by clicking the little blue froggy. The prompt is open for a couple of weeks yet, so there’s still time to join in!
John sat on a pile of rocks, his shocked eyes staring at the carnage below. He felt numb, his brain unable to process the events of the last few hours. He reached into his jacket and fished out his pipes, his comfort, and put them to his lips. A mournful air sounded over the blood-drenched field.
It was to have been glorious! He had volunteered and presented himself at the local training camp along with Jed, his childhood friend. They had grown up together, always done everything together. It had seemed natural that they should embark upon this great adventure together.
They had been given a uniform, a sword, a musket and a hot meal. Then the training had begun. Musket first, then draw your sword. Defend yourself and the person on your right. Parry, thrust, one step forward, parry, thrust, one step forward. Hold the line. It all seemed so easy!
It hadn’t been that way at all. The moment battle was joined, everything had fallen apart. The air filled with acrid musket smoke, so thick he couldn’t see. Screams and the clashing of swords filled his head so that he couldn’t think. He tried to parry, thrust, step forward. He tried to hold the line, but all was chaos. He tried to defend the person on his right, but there was no-one there. Had they become separated, or was he dead? John didn’t know.
Though only a few minutes, it felt to John as if this carnage had lasted days. Shock at the terrible reality of battle replaced all coherent thought. He stumbled around as men screamed and fell. His sword, still unused, hung limply in his hand as he staggered left and right.
A figure appeared out of the smoke. Numbly John slashed his sword top to bottom as he’d been taught, feeling it cut through flesh. The smoke cleared for a moment, long enough for him to see Jed’s eyes open wide in shock as John’s sword sliced him open.
“I… couldn’t see, I… didn’t know,… I’m sorry, oh, Jed,” gasped John as Jed fell. John fell with him, cradling his friend’s head, sobbing.
John had awoken hours later, in a daze. The smoke had cleared, Everything was quiet. And now he sat numbly on a pile of rocks, playing his pipes.
He was only dimly aware of the approach of others. Friend or foe? He no longer cared. The song was cut short and the pipes tumbled down the rocks onto the blood-soaked grass as a sword sliced into his back and exited his chest.
His final thought as darkness fell – please don’t leave me here. Mark my grave. Remember me.
CWG Week 6 Episode 9
Here we are at week 6 of Kerrie’s Chain Writing Game! This week, Jadir has left the safety of his village and ventured over The Wall. What will he find?
Catch up with the story by clicking on the little blue froggy. My first contribution is below.
Jadir edged closer to the rope ladder and looked up to see a woman looking down at him. She was gesticulating, urging him to climb out of the pit, while keeping a wary eye on the two predators.
Jadir began to climb. As he reached the top he felt warm liquid spray across his back – the bear had ripped the bird’s head off, and was now moving toward the girl. She fished in a belt pouch and threw powder into the bear’s face. It gave a surprised growl, spun around and ran into a tree.
Jadir and the girl ran off through the woods.
The Crossing
I seem to be posting an awful lot this week, but I stumbled across Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction challenge and thought I’d give it a go.
You can view all the other entries here.
The prompt word for this week is: FROZEN.
The white-tailed rabbit watched anxiously as her babies hopped one by one across the strip of land. It had taken some persuasion – the hard ground felt foreign to their paws, but it bisected their feeding ground and had to be crossed.
Breathing a sigh of relief as the little ones reached safety, she hopped out of the bushes and began her own crossing. As she reached the half-way point, she felt a tremor and heard a deafening rumble. Frozen in terror, she watched the lights coming closer, closer…
Sharing My World Week 4
Here I am, back once again to “Share My World”!
This is a weekly spot hosted by Cee over at Cee’s Photography Blog. The aim is to get to know one another a little better by answering some questions 🙂 . This week’s questions were inspired by Chris’ post I’m Having an Introvert Day. Plus a random question on blankets.
Do you recharge your energy by going out with friends for a good time or by spending quiet time alone?
Time alone, for sure. I’m always on edge when I’m out and about. I recharge by sitting at home reading, blogging and watching TV. If I don’t get enough alone time I get antsy.
Not everybody understands. It certainly put an end to my last relationship. Or was that because I’m a crap boyfriend? I forget. One of those.
What is the most number of blankets you’ve ever had on your bed?
So here’s the random blanket question! The simple answer is I can’t remember back that far. I don’t know how it is in the rest of the world, but in the UK (and much of Europe I think) we’re all about duvets. I don’t know what tog rating my duvet is but it’s warm enough that extra blankets are not required!
You are invited to a party that will be attended by many fascinating people you never met. Would you attend this party if you were to go by yourself?
Oh, goodness me, no! I’ll tell you what’s wrong with these parties. You stand in the darkest corner, arms folded and avoiding eye contact and there’s still someone who wants to talk to you! No personal boundaries.
Mind you, I’d attend if the party were held in a Hobbit burrow full of fascinating Hobbits I’d never met. I bet they throw a good bash.
Do you like talking to people on the phone? Or do you prefer voice mail or email?
I absolutely hate talking to people on the phone. You can’t see their faces. How can you tell what they’re thinking when you can’t see their faces?
Voice mail – no thanks. I can’t be talking to a machine. Email is where it’s at. Nice and safe, and completely lacking in any real-time human interaction. Lovely!
Well, that’s me showing my madness to the world. If you want to read what other people have said, or join in the fun yourself, click on the link to Cee’s blog at the top!
Two For Dinner
A number of people I follow have been taking part in the Sunday Photo Fiction prompt. I was happy just reading their stories, but then I started to wonder what I might write if I were to give it a go. Then a story accidentally wrote itself in my head, so I typed it in when I got home and here it is!
The stories should be 100-200 words – I managed to sneak mine in at 199. Phew!
To read the other stories written for this photo, click on the little blue thingy below.
Samuel gazed at the scene before him in awe. A bridge arched gracefully over a cascading waterfall, which sent a fine mist into the air to sparkle in the sun, creating the most stunning mini-rainbows. Lush, green trees grew on either side and a wide expanse of grass stretched down to the water’s edge.
He thought of Lucy’s wide, innocent blue eyes, her glossy raven-black hair, her ready smile. He imagined the scene before him under the moonlight. He would led her gently to the water’s edge, sink to his knees before her…
Walking down into the shadow of the bridge, he took the ring out of his pocket, and smiled.
His phone rang. Annoyed by the intrusion, he answered it when he saw the caller’s name.
“Yes, Mother. I’ve found the perfect spot to propose. Tonight, Mother, I’ll ask her tonight!”
Still smiling, he put the ring back in his pocket and walked away.
A sound came from under the bridge.
“He’s getting away! Come on!” came a gruff voice.
“Wait! Didn’t you hear? He’s coming back tonight – with a friend,” came a second.
“So?”
“So… why have one for lunch when you can have two for dinner?”
Workshop at the End of the World
It’s Friday Fictioneers again! Doesn’t time fly? Hosted as always by Rochelle, a bunch of us get together to write roughly 100 words to a photo prompt, supplied this week by Claire Fuller – thanks Claire!
I had a spot of bother with this one. I toyed with a couple of ideas but none of them seemed to work, or were based on visual gags. I finally fell back on old faithful – post-apocalypse. Last year I was obsessed with slaughtering people, this year it’s the end of the world. Just once I’d like to write a rom-com.
I also had major words count issues so it doesn’t flow as nicely as I’d hoped, but that’s the challenge, isn’t it?
You can view other people’s entries here – have a read!
Copyright Claire Fuller
Zed knew the structure to be a workshop – he had a stash of old books and had seen pictures. He had even deciphered some of the scribbles.
Inside he could see… machines? lying dormant. They would ever be so. They needed sparkfire to run, he remembered, and the knowledge to harness this was lost in time.
He gazed at the scribbles over the entrance. “No… smok-ing” he sounded out. Why would one wish to catch fire inside to require such a command, he pondered? Chuckling, he went in out of the sun, took a seat and lit his favourite pipe.
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