Miranda Kate's Blog, page 55
June 13, 2018
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 59
This week's picture is one of my own, taken at Dutch Comic Con in November 2017. They were displayed on a Steampunk stall. I thought it was time we had some steampunk. Not that I am much good at writing it!
I'm not great at writing in steampunk genre, although I do love it. I am not good with historical fiction, and as I am reading sci-fi and about to publish a book in sci-fi, I ended up going in that direction. Not sure if it works, but it was fun trying.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.
Subtle Masking
Gangwin fondled the mask. The feel of the metal under his fingers was strange to him, as were the objects, but Hubrid had told him they were necessary for their attendance. Apparently these things would make their identities invisible to the people there. People. The word was full of strange mouth movements he’d found tricky to master.
Hubrid had told him the masks suited the occasion too, the launch of some kind of flying machine. It was a new concept to people, the idea of flying; they were excited and full of possibilities imagining all sorts. Gangwin had learnt not to react to the bizarre predictions they envisaged it bringing in the future.
Stifling laughter was hard for him, particularly trussed up with all the stiff materials wrapped round his body. When the diaphragm fluctuated he struggled to stop the sound coming out of his mouth. People didn’t like it. It shocked them and some turned their noses up when it happened. They deemed it inappropriate behaviour. He had never known a species so rigid and false.
But his job here was not to judge them, it was only to observe and report and divert. This was one of the key moments in their history. It was a step towards a future that would lead them in the wrong direction, or so the amalgam believed. Hubrid and Gangwin were here to see how they could alter it, or sway the people onto another path. They hoped to be subtle – hence the masks.
When they entered the building, their masks made them believable to the crowd gathered there. People were socializing while the craft languished at the back of the hangar. It was perfect for what they intended. Hubrid went off to do what he needed to the mechanics, and Gangwin found himself surrounded by a crowd, mostly females. It seemed people liked to talk, especially about each other, and he’d been a prize topic. He was new, unattached and had intelligence, which seemed to make him desirable. It was helpful in that it gave him influence and he started to spin the words, interjecting them with those in his own tongue that would start the process.
By the time the launch was due to take place the people’s thoughts had been infected, and when the craft failed to lift off the ground skepticism swept through them sending them in a new direction. They started to converse about the technology employed and its lack of refinement; how they needed to find a less disruptive system, one that blended better with the native planet. It seemed to spark discussion in other quarters too, and several months later Hubrid and Gangwin knew that their project was over and they could depart, returning to higher level of functioning.
But Gangwin insisted on taking the mask home with them, and it's now held in a place of reverence as a memorial to the efforts made to divert an unbecoming species.
I'm not great at writing in steampunk genre, although I do love it. I am not good with historical fiction, and as I am reading sci-fi and about to publish a book in sci-fi, I ended up going in that direction. Not sure if it works, but it was fun trying.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.
Subtle Masking
Gangwin fondled the mask. The feel of the metal under his fingers was strange to him, as were the objects, but Hubrid had told him they were necessary for their attendance. Apparently these things would make their identities invisible to the people there. People. The word was full of strange mouth movements he’d found tricky to master.
Hubrid had told him the masks suited the occasion too, the launch of some kind of flying machine. It was a new concept to people, the idea of flying; they were excited and full of possibilities imagining all sorts. Gangwin had learnt not to react to the bizarre predictions they envisaged it bringing in the future.
Stifling laughter was hard for him, particularly trussed up with all the stiff materials wrapped round his body. When the diaphragm fluctuated he struggled to stop the sound coming out of his mouth. People didn’t like it. It shocked them and some turned their noses up when it happened. They deemed it inappropriate behaviour. He had never known a species so rigid and false.
But his job here was not to judge them, it was only to observe and report and divert. This was one of the key moments in their history. It was a step towards a future that would lead them in the wrong direction, or so the amalgam believed. Hubrid and Gangwin were here to see how they could alter it, or sway the people onto another path. They hoped to be subtle – hence the masks.
When they entered the building, their masks made them believable to the crowd gathered there. People were socializing while the craft languished at the back of the hangar. It was perfect for what they intended. Hubrid went off to do what he needed to the mechanics, and Gangwin found himself surrounded by a crowd, mostly females. It seemed people liked to talk, especially about each other, and he’d been a prize topic. He was new, unattached and had intelligence, which seemed to make him desirable. It was helpful in that it gave him influence and he started to spin the words, interjecting them with those in his own tongue that would start the process.
By the time the launch was due to take place the people’s thoughts had been infected, and when the craft failed to lift off the ground skepticism swept through them sending them in a new direction. They started to converse about the technology employed and its lack of refinement; how they needed to find a less disruptive system, one that blended better with the native planet. It seemed to spark discussion in other quarters too, and several months later Hubrid and Gangwin knew that their project was over and they could depart, returning to higher level of functioning.
But Gangwin insisted on taking the mask home with them, and it's now held in a place of reverence as a memorial to the efforts made to divert an unbecoming species.
June 11, 2018
National Flash Fiction day - Flash Flood Journal
And again, for the sixth year running (!), I have managed to get a piece of flash fiction accepted for the into the yearly Flash Flood Journal.
It's an international flash-fiction journal created by writers and edited by a team of volunteer editors on behalf, and in aid of National Flash Fiction Day, which takes place on the 16th of June.
Every 10 minutes a new piece of Flash is put on the Flash Flood Journal for the full 24 hours of Flash Fiction day.
There's still time to enter if you fancy it!
National Flash Fiction Day happens every year. To stay informed on twitter, follow Flash-Fiction Day - @nationalfashfd and there is a page on Facebook too. There is also a Micro fiction contest and a yearly anthology to submit to, but they happen earlier in the year.
I have never been successful at the Micro fiction contest but last year I was lucky enough to get a story in the anthology - Sleep is a Beautiful Colour.
This was my second entry. The first one was a bit too disturbing, either for the editor in charge that day or for the journal, but the second one was accepted. It will appear around 17:20 on the day. I will update this post with a link when it goes live.
It's called 'Going Batty'.
June 8, 2018
A new book is coming!!
Hello everyone,
Just a note to say I'll be releasing a new book coming this summer. Here's the blurb:
Slipping Through
Journey into different dimensions
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to journey into other dimensions?
Logan and Elise discover a place where the dominant species isn’t human, but will they be able to return to their own dimension?
The Professor hopes Vladimir has unlocked the secret to a parallel universe, but is it what it seems?
David wants to get back home, but will enlisting Rob’s help trap them in the Jester’s game and slipping through forever?
The answers can be found in this collection of science fiction stories, offering the reader a glimpse into surreal worlds and the possibilities that lie in the cracks of the imagination.
“Bonkers brilliant.” – Michael Wombat, Author of The Raven’s Wing & Fog
There will be a cover release shortly.
In the meantime:
I am going to be running a giveaway for a print pocket edition of my first book Mostly Dark. If you are interested, sign up to my mailing list to keep informed.
Just a note to say I'll be releasing a new book coming this summer. Here's the blurb:
Slipping Through
Journey into different dimensions
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to journey into other dimensions?
Logan and Elise discover a place where the dominant species isn’t human, but will they be able to return to their own dimension?
The Professor hopes Vladimir has unlocked the secret to a parallel universe, but is it what it seems?
David wants to get back home, but will enlisting Rob’s help trap them in the Jester’s game and slipping through forever?
The answers can be found in this collection of science fiction stories, offering the reader a glimpse into surreal worlds and the possibilities that lie in the cracks of the imagination.
“Bonkers brilliant.” – Michael Wombat, Author of The Raven’s Wing & Fog
There will be a cover release shortly.
In the meantime:
I am going to be running a giveaway for a print pocket edition of my first book Mostly Dark. If you are interested, sign up to my mailing list to keep informed.
Review - Lord of the Flies, William Golding
Lord of the Flies by William GoldingMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
It's more a 3 and a half, but I couldn't quite push this one to a 4 star rating.
The ending of Lord of the Flies makes up for a lot of the book - great ending, but otherwise my overall feeling is that it is a peculiar book. I'm surprised this is a book studied in schools. Why? It's not well written - I struggled to work out who was speaking sometimes and sentences were stilted and description was unclear; how do you lift 'up' a cheek flap to see through a swollen eye? Is it for the storyline? One that I had heard raved about a lot, but was somewhat disappointing, and then quite gruesome, especially for school children to be reading or studying.
I had heard the group of children in Mad Max, Beyond Thunderdome (No.3 - a favourite until Fury Road came along) were similar to those in Lord of the flies, but I couldn't relate the two at all.
I had expected much more: a much more developed sense of a society, but it was very primitive and slow moving. Maybe I need to remember it was written in 1954, and that these were sheltered children. Maybe I've been infected with the current modern view that everything should start with lots of action and not be a slow build to what is quite a big climax at the end. It's been a long time since I read something where I had only a couple of pages left but still didn't know how it was going to end. It was the saving grace of this book.
The description of the book in Wikipedia explains more than some of the description in the book about the events that take place in the book. I'm surprised this is an award winner, and considered good literature. It does not encourage me to read anything else by this author.
View all my reviews
My Review of Lord of the Flies
Lord of the Flies by William GoldingMy rating: 3 of 5 stars
It's more a 3 and a half, but I couldn't quite push this one to a 4 star rating.
The ending of Lord of the Flies makes up for a lot of the book - great ending, but otherwise my overall feeling is that it is a peculiar book. I'm surprised this is a book studied in schools. Why? It's not well written - I struggled to work out who was speaking sometimes and sentences were stilted and description was unclear; how do you lift 'up' a cheek flap to see through a swollen eye? Is it for the storyline? One that I had heard raved about a lot, but was somewhat disappointing, and then quite gruesome, especially for school children to be reading or studying.
I had heard the group of children in Mad Max, Beyond Thunderdome (No.3 - a favourite until Fury Road came along) were similar to those in Lord of the flies, but I couldn't relate the two at all.
I had expected much more: a much more developed sense of a society, but it was very primitive and slow moving. Maybe I need to remember it was written in 1954, and that these were sheltered children. Maybe I've been infected with the current modern view that everything should start with lots of action and not be a slow build to what is quite a big climax at the end. It's been a long time since I read something where I had only a couple of pages left but still didn't know how it was going to end. It was the saving grace of this book.
The description of the book in Wikipedia explains more than some of the description in the book about the events that take place in the book. I'm surprised this is an award winner, and considered good literature. It does not encourage me to read anything else by this author.
View all my reviews
June 6, 2018
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 58
This week's photo prompt is by artist, Vimark (Max Mitenkov), an artist from Belarus. This piece is called 'To another reality'. He has some incredible work and you can see a lot of it on his page on Deviant Art. And a smaller collection can be viewed on his website. I will definitely be revisiting this artist.
One of my favourite topics for writing - and one that the new collection of stories I will be releasing in the summer focuses on - is the idea of time parallels and/or dimensions. A little bit surreal, a little bit dark. I quite liked how this one turned out.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.
Energy Provider
She gazed out at the city from the rope ladder. It was another existence in another bubble that had no clue. Like they all did, they thought they were the only ones. She chuckled to herself.
“Adriana, what’re you laughing at?” Rufus called down the ladder.
“Oh nothing, just their oblivion about living in that gap between times.”
“There’s tons of them, come on, we’ve got work to do.”
Adriana didn’t want to work; she liked hanging out, literally, on the ladder. She liked daydreaming about all these worlds – this one in particular - and the people in them: their societies, their rules, and their ignorance. She wondered what they would think if they knew that they were just a cog, a simple stop point that provided energy to another system of life.
She started up the ladder, admiring the pretty decoration of ‘night sky’ that Radley had created for them to give them more meaning and perspective. He was a real artist and she wished she had half his skill.
When she reached the platform where Rufus was waiting for her, she pulled herself up to standing.
“What’s the plan then?”
“Well they’re getting a bit feisty down there. There’s been some talk about how their culling is imminent.”
“I didn’t think we needed to make those decisions anymore, I thought they took care of themselves. There’s enough killing going on.”
“No, not us culling, them culling. You know, like the Aztecs and the Atlantians?”
“Oh god, that was a pain in the arse!”
“Exactly.”
“But I thought this lot had evolved past that?”
“Seems not. Seems they’ve got themselves stuck in a loop and can’t break out of it. Their thought processes are too short. They’ve started down into a negative spiral, losing strength and purpose.”
“But if we lose this lot, it’s going to put strain on about twenty others!”
“Tell me about it.”
Adriana sighed. “Okay, so what are we going to have to do?”
“A second coming.”
“A what?” Adriana wasn’t familiar with this time loop’s history. “What’s that?”
“It’s what they call a ‘religion ’ thing.” Rufus was preparing some equipment that had been brought to the platform: a winch, a sling and some ropes.
“Religion? What that restrictive mindset they use to control huge amounts of their people and stop them expanding into higher thought processes?”
“That’s the one.”
“And if this is second there must have been a first ...?”
“Yep. Jesus, remember him? He worked over at dimension two.”
“Didn’t they end up crucifying him?”
“That’s right. But he was brought back up. He’s fine, he’s over at section five now.”
“Nice. I’d love to go there.” Adriana had heard about the sections and five was a good one to end up in. You reaped many benefits there.
“Well you might get a chance then.” Rufus handed her a rope.
“Me?! I thought you’d be the one going?”
“Nope, they reckon you are the one to pull it off.”
“But their society won’t recognise me. You know how prejudice they are against genders.”
“Yes, but you’re one of the two they recognise, so it could work.”
“Could? What use is could? What’s the point in doing it if it isn’t an absolute?”
“There are no absolutes, you know that – even THEY know that! There’s an underground movement happening, a shift in their society, your gender is on the up rise. It has to be you.” Rufus handed her a device that looked like an earwig. “Put this in, and you’ll be guided.”
Adriana turned the device over in her hand. “I don’t know if I am up to it.”
“Oh come on, you’ve been fantasising about going there. You always linger over that place more than any other.”
“Maybe. But this is a big job, an important job.” Adriana’s mind reeled at what was ahead of her.
“Exactly. Just think of section five, or even six! Just imagine!” Rufus’s eyes sparkled. “This is your opportunity Adriana, grab it with both hands.”
Adriana took a deep breath and placed the device in her ear. He was right, it was and she knew she had to. She stepped into the sling and prepared to bungy off the platform.
“You’ll go right into your life. It’ll unfold for you. Okay?” Rufus stood at the winch.
Adriana gave him a thumbs up.
“You’re being placed in a special influential position. You’ll know what to do.”
She nodded once, and leapt.
One of my favourite topics for writing - and one that the new collection of stories I will be releasing in the summer focuses on - is the idea of time parallels and/or dimensions. A little bit surreal, a little bit dark. I quite liked how this one turned out.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.
Energy Provider
She gazed out at the city from the rope ladder. It was another existence in another bubble that had no clue. Like they all did, they thought they were the only ones. She chuckled to herself.
“Adriana, what’re you laughing at?” Rufus called down the ladder.
“Oh nothing, just their oblivion about living in that gap between times.”
“There’s tons of them, come on, we’ve got work to do.”
Adriana didn’t want to work; she liked hanging out, literally, on the ladder. She liked daydreaming about all these worlds – this one in particular - and the people in them: their societies, their rules, and their ignorance. She wondered what they would think if they knew that they were just a cog, a simple stop point that provided energy to another system of life.
She started up the ladder, admiring the pretty decoration of ‘night sky’ that Radley had created for them to give them more meaning and perspective. He was a real artist and she wished she had half his skill.
When she reached the platform where Rufus was waiting for her, she pulled herself up to standing.
“What’s the plan then?”
“Well they’re getting a bit feisty down there. There’s been some talk about how their culling is imminent.”
“I didn’t think we needed to make those decisions anymore, I thought they took care of themselves. There’s enough killing going on.”
“No, not us culling, them culling. You know, like the Aztecs and the Atlantians?”
“Oh god, that was a pain in the arse!”
“Exactly.”
“But I thought this lot had evolved past that?”
“Seems not. Seems they’ve got themselves stuck in a loop and can’t break out of it. Their thought processes are too short. They’ve started down into a negative spiral, losing strength and purpose.”
“But if we lose this lot, it’s going to put strain on about twenty others!”
“Tell me about it.”
Adriana sighed. “Okay, so what are we going to have to do?”
“A second coming.”
“A what?” Adriana wasn’t familiar with this time loop’s history. “What’s that?”
“It’s what they call a ‘religion ’ thing.” Rufus was preparing some equipment that had been brought to the platform: a winch, a sling and some ropes.
“Religion? What that restrictive mindset they use to control huge amounts of their people and stop them expanding into higher thought processes?”
“That’s the one.”
“And if this is second there must have been a first ...?”
“Yep. Jesus, remember him? He worked over at dimension two.”
“Didn’t they end up crucifying him?”
“That’s right. But he was brought back up. He’s fine, he’s over at section five now.”
“Nice. I’d love to go there.” Adriana had heard about the sections and five was a good one to end up in. You reaped many benefits there.
“Well you might get a chance then.” Rufus handed her a rope.
“Me?! I thought you’d be the one going?”
“Nope, they reckon you are the one to pull it off.”
“But their society won’t recognise me. You know how prejudice they are against genders.”
“Yes, but you’re one of the two they recognise, so it could work.”
“Could? What use is could? What’s the point in doing it if it isn’t an absolute?”
“There are no absolutes, you know that – even THEY know that! There’s an underground movement happening, a shift in their society, your gender is on the up rise. It has to be you.” Rufus handed her a device that looked like an earwig. “Put this in, and you’ll be guided.”
Adriana turned the device over in her hand. “I don’t know if I am up to it.”
“Oh come on, you’ve been fantasising about going there. You always linger over that place more than any other.”
“Maybe. But this is a big job, an important job.” Adriana’s mind reeled at what was ahead of her.
“Exactly. Just think of section five, or even six! Just imagine!” Rufus’s eyes sparkled. “This is your opportunity Adriana, grab it with both hands.”
Adriana took a deep breath and placed the device in her ear. He was right, it was and she knew she had to. She stepped into the sling and prepared to bungy off the platform.
“You’ll go right into your life. It’ll unfold for you. Okay?” Rufus stood at the winch.
Adriana gave him a thumbs up.
“You’re being placed in a special influential position. You’ll know what to do.”
She nodded once, and leapt.
May 30, 2018
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 57
This week's picture prompt by artist Mevludin Sejmenovic, from Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina. They have some rather wonderful enhanced landscapes which you can check out over on 500px.
Had an idea of this story at the beginning, but as often is the case it transforms on the page. I like it, but there is a bigger story behind it. Maybe one day I'll explore it.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.
p { margin-bottom: 0.1in; direction: ltr; line-height: 120%; text-align: left; }p.western { font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; }p.cjk { font-size: 12pt; }p.ctl { font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; }
Real Reality Games
The way the trees gave off a purple effervescence intrigued him, but the turquoise light at the end of the path drew him on. Max loved the feel of this world, even though he knew he should be cautious.
Randolph had told him to go straight to it and not muck about like last time. He knew Travis and Jonas wouldn’t rescue him again. He’d only wanted to explore the geometric world; he didn’t know the rigid structures would be so tightly controlled. Playing a prisoner had been no fun. It had been touch and go during the negotations to get him out.
But this world was entirely different; it was already softer and lighter. Even though the forest could be seen as threatening he found the sounds soothing. Strange pops and barks, rustles and squeaks. What made them? He pondered this as he followed instructions to stick to the path.
Untold treasures Randolph had claimed, but really what would that give him? More access to other worlds maybe? Certainly not a life of riches in his own. They’d found objects were worthless when they brought them back here. The only appeal for Max was the escapism, exiting his own empty mundane reality. He didn’t care about seeing different places. He wanted to create something within one of these worlds. He wanted to stay in one forever. He wanted the fantasy to become the reality.
Maybe he could be the pioneer: The one who stayed. He liked that. But would it start a mass exodus? Would it disrupt everything? For now the public didn’t know much about world tripping. They thought it was some virtual reality game. It wasn’t, it was a real reality game. You actually went inside and explored other realities – realities that the majority of the world thought were only fantasy. Time parallels and other dimension were fiction to them. Just a handful of scientists knew otherwise, and he was one of them.
The turquoise light was now dominating the colour spectrum; everything was lit up around him in varying shades of the aqua blue. It was magical and fairylike. But where was it coming from?
The trees thinned out into a clearing and there it stood – a ball of light emanating beams of pure turquoise. It stood way above his head glowing and deflecting the violet light that surrounded it.
Max was awed by it. He hadn’t seen anything like it in all the worlds he’d travelled through – and there had been at least a hundred. What was its purpose? Randolph thought treasure, but this was much more than that.
He walked right up to it and reached out a hand, but there was no surface just light. He took another step and then another until he was engulfed by the light. It was all around him and in him.
He felt his mood rise, a sensation of elation filling him. He felt like everything was possible that there were no limits to anything. His mind raced with all the projects he had been working on, and solution after solution appeared in his mind. He laughed at the joy of all the knowledge and the feeling of complete satisfaction and contentment that filled him.
He didn’t ever want to leave this place. He had found home. This was where he belonged. He felt it in every atom of his body. This was it, this was his destiny. He never needed to be anywhere else again.
Had an idea of this story at the beginning, but as often is the case it transforms on the page. I like it, but there is a bigger story behind it. Maybe one day I'll explore it.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.
p { margin-bottom: 0.1in; direction: ltr; line-height: 120%; text-align: left; }p.western { font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; }p.cjk { font-size: 12pt; }p.ctl { font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt; } Real Reality Games
The way the trees gave off a purple effervescence intrigued him, but the turquoise light at the end of the path drew him on. Max loved the feel of this world, even though he knew he should be cautious.
Randolph had told him to go straight to it and not muck about like last time. He knew Travis and Jonas wouldn’t rescue him again. He’d only wanted to explore the geometric world; he didn’t know the rigid structures would be so tightly controlled. Playing a prisoner had been no fun. It had been touch and go during the negotations to get him out.
But this world was entirely different; it was already softer and lighter. Even though the forest could be seen as threatening he found the sounds soothing. Strange pops and barks, rustles and squeaks. What made them? He pondered this as he followed instructions to stick to the path.
Untold treasures Randolph had claimed, but really what would that give him? More access to other worlds maybe? Certainly not a life of riches in his own. They’d found objects were worthless when they brought them back here. The only appeal for Max was the escapism, exiting his own empty mundane reality. He didn’t care about seeing different places. He wanted to create something within one of these worlds. He wanted to stay in one forever. He wanted the fantasy to become the reality.
Maybe he could be the pioneer: The one who stayed. He liked that. But would it start a mass exodus? Would it disrupt everything? For now the public didn’t know much about world tripping. They thought it was some virtual reality game. It wasn’t, it was a real reality game. You actually went inside and explored other realities – realities that the majority of the world thought were only fantasy. Time parallels and other dimension were fiction to them. Just a handful of scientists knew otherwise, and he was one of them.
The turquoise light was now dominating the colour spectrum; everything was lit up around him in varying shades of the aqua blue. It was magical and fairylike. But where was it coming from?
The trees thinned out into a clearing and there it stood – a ball of light emanating beams of pure turquoise. It stood way above his head glowing and deflecting the violet light that surrounded it.
Max was awed by it. He hadn’t seen anything like it in all the worlds he’d travelled through – and there had been at least a hundred. What was its purpose? Randolph thought treasure, but this was much more than that.
He walked right up to it and reached out a hand, but there was no surface just light. He took another step and then another until he was engulfed by the light. It was all around him and in him.
He felt his mood rise, a sensation of elation filling him. He felt like everything was possible that there were no limits to anything. His mind raced with all the projects he had been working on, and solution after solution appeared in his mind. He laughed at the joy of all the knowledge and the feeling of complete satisfaction and contentment that filled him.
He didn’t ever want to leave this place. He had found home. This was where he belonged. He felt it in every atom of his body. This was it, this was his destiny. He never needed to be anywhere else again.
May 23, 2018
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 56
I spent a lot of time trying to track down the owner of this week's picture prompt. Many people have used it for many things. I keep coming back to the name Luis Serrano, but there is no website that links this name to this picture (just a google plus page with this image on it), and there are several artists with this name, but none with work similar. Shame, I like to always accredit correctly.
Despite this story relating to a particular fairytale, I saw more in the wolf's eye: I saw emotion, and a depth many of us might not consider at a glance. And this is the tale it inspired.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.
Cycle of the Wolf He was watching her – keenly. She didn’t notice him - she never did. And he didn’t want her to; if she did all might be lost. He sighed.
He’d keep doing what he was doing: he’d keep following her, tracking her, staying close. And she wouldn’t know, not really. She might sense him – she occasionally turned round and paused, looking behind her as though she had heard something – but she never spotted him. Thank goodness.
What would she do if she saw him? Scream probably, and run back to the village to people and warn them. And then they’d come with pitchforks and torches and he’d have to run for his life. And he didn’t want to do that, he just wanted to stay near her and know she was safe. He didn’t want what happened to him, happening to her.
He could live with his reincarnation. He could handle not being able to speak to her, to take care of her, to be the father he once was, but he couldn’t live with being banished, or worse, strung up and gutted. He’d done it enough times when he’d lived.
The memory now made him shudder. Had they all been like him? Victims? Had they all once been vital men cut down in their prime by a beast, only to end up being that beast? Was it some kind of cycle? Had the beast that had taken him known him in life? Would he eventually take someone he knew?
He could feel his essence changing. He could feel his desires changing. So far he had been able to survive on the small animals he preyed on, but each time he witnessed a gathering of men he salivated and his urge to try and take one down rose.
So he focused on her in her beautiful red-hooded cape that her grandmother had made for her. It kept her visible in the forest and helped ward off the beasts – beasts like him.
For the moment she was enough. His drive to protect her enabled him to suppress and chastise the cravings. It kept him occupied day to day and helped offset the aching in his heart of no longer being able to hold her and talk to her, and bask in her delight.
And he would keep his distance and remain in the shadows. He dared not think about how trailing her would be construed by others – others like he used to be.
Despite this story relating to a particular fairytale, I saw more in the wolf's eye: I saw emotion, and a depth many of us might not consider at a glance. And this is the tale it inspired.
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.
Cycle of the Wolf He was watching her – keenly. She didn’t notice him - she never did. And he didn’t want her to; if she did all might be lost. He sighed.
He’d keep doing what he was doing: he’d keep following her, tracking her, staying close. And she wouldn’t know, not really. She might sense him – she occasionally turned round and paused, looking behind her as though she had heard something – but she never spotted him. Thank goodness.
What would she do if she saw him? Scream probably, and run back to the village to people and warn them. And then they’d come with pitchforks and torches and he’d have to run for his life. And he didn’t want to do that, he just wanted to stay near her and know she was safe. He didn’t want what happened to him, happening to her.
He could live with his reincarnation. He could handle not being able to speak to her, to take care of her, to be the father he once was, but he couldn’t live with being banished, or worse, strung up and gutted. He’d done it enough times when he’d lived.
The memory now made him shudder. Had they all been like him? Victims? Had they all once been vital men cut down in their prime by a beast, only to end up being that beast? Was it some kind of cycle? Had the beast that had taken him known him in life? Would he eventually take someone he knew?
He could feel his essence changing. He could feel his desires changing. So far he had been able to survive on the small animals he preyed on, but each time he witnessed a gathering of men he salivated and his urge to try and take one down rose.
So he focused on her in her beautiful red-hooded cape that her grandmother had made for her. It kept her visible in the forest and helped ward off the beasts – beasts like him.
For the moment she was enough. His drive to protect her enabled him to suppress and chastise the cravings. It kept him occupied day to day and helped offset the aching in his heart of no longer being able to hold her and talk to her, and bask in her delight.
And he would keep his distance and remain in the shadows. He dared not think about how trailing her would be construed by others – others like he used to be.
May 16, 2018
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 55
This week's prompt photo was taken by Ido Rosenhaal, when he was in Sorrento, Italy.
I liked all the things this picture could represent. And I liked the opening to the story that arrived. It took a while for the ending to appear, but I think it worked out pretty well. What does this object inspire for you?
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.
Spooked
It moved. Andrea was sure of it. It was a strange hand shaped door knocker, spooky and a little pretentious.
She hesitated, taking a deep breath. Did she really need to be here? Yes, her son had come home terribly upset after playing here. She needed to find out why. He was too terrified to come back with her, and yet he wouldn’t tell her why. She needed to find out what had happened.
She couldn’t bring herself to touch it, so she rapped her knuckles on the wood instead and waited. She heard footsteps coming to the door. It opened and swung back. No one was there.
She called out, ‘Hello?’
A voice came back. “Hello, do please come in.”
It was dark inside with the brightness of the day behind her, and she couldn’t see anyone as she stepped over the threshold into the huge entrance hall. It was a large house with high vaulted ceilings and a wide staircase in the middle leading off in two directions.
As she stepped further in, the front door swung back behind her. She waited; her whole body on high alert, ready to flee if necessary.
She heard footsteps and could just make out a figure in the shadows to the right of the staircase. It seemed to hover there.
“What can I do for you?”
“I came about my son, Gregory. He came over here to play yesterday and came home terribly upset. I wanted to find out why.”
“Came over to play?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure he came here?”
“Yes, he was invited by your son.”
“He can’t have; my son died last year.”
“Oh I’m so sorry.”
“Maybe it was another boy.”
“Was your son’s name Aaron?”
There was a pause. “Yes.”
“That’s who invited him. He said Aaron had recently joined his class in school.”
“Clearly there has been some mistake. Or maybe this is a prank.”
“A prank? No. Gregory came home really shaken yesterday and won’t tell me what happened. I thought you might be able to help me, that’s all. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
Andrea turned to leave, walking to the door, then she heard a sound coming from upstairs, banging and thumping and then a child’s voice shouting, “No, please, don’t leave, please don’t leave, help me! Help me! I’m up here! I’m trapped.”
Andrea looked round, startled. She could no longer make out a figure by the staircase. “Hello?” There was no answer, so she called out louder, “Hello?” She heard the muffled cries again.
She hesitated. If she went upstairs what would happen? But if she didn’t, what about the child? Something was wrong here; she needed to find out what it was. With sudden bravado she rushed up the staircase. At the top she went left, sure that’s where the sound was coming from. She could still hear thumping.
She was presented with a wide corridor at the top, with rooms leading off. There was a mix of open and closed doors. She steeled herself and called out again, “Hello. Are you still there?”
“Yes, yes, I’m here, please help me,” a muffled voice came back from the right side.
“Keep talking so I can hear you. Tell me about yourself.”
“My name is Aaron. I live here. I was playing with Gregory yesterday but he got spooked by my mother.”
He was further down, she kept walking. “Your mother?”
“Yes she does that sometimes. I tell her not to, but she can’t help herself.”
It was coming from the next room. The door was ajar.
“How did she spook him?”
She pushed the door open. Inside she found a large bedroom, a child’s bedroom with all the toys and clutter all over the floor and surfaces.
“Well she appears when she shouldn’t.”
“So she interrupted you? I think I’m here in the right room. Where are you?”
“I’m in the big wardrobe. It locks behind you if you’re not careful. The butler, Garson, has the day off. I was worried I’d be stuck here till Betty comes to cook me dinner.”
Andrea walked to the large closet and twisted the lock. The door opened. A rusty haired boy the same age as her son stepped out.
“Thank you so much.”
“No problem. But I still don’t understand, why didn’t your mother come and get you out? And why would her interrupting you upset Gregory so much?”
“My mother died last year. It was her ghost.”
I liked all the things this picture could represent. And I liked the opening to the story that arrived. It took a while for the ending to appear, but I think it worked out pretty well. What does this object inspire for you?
The General Guidelines can be found here.
How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.
Spooked
It moved. Andrea was sure of it. It was a strange hand shaped door knocker, spooky and a little pretentious.
She hesitated, taking a deep breath. Did she really need to be here? Yes, her son had come home terribly upset after playing here. She needed to find out why. He was too terrified to come back with her, and yet he wouldn’t tell her why. She needed to find out what had happened.
She couldn’t bring herself to touch it, so she rapped her knuckles on the wood instead and waited. She heard footsteps coming to the door. It opened and swung back. No one was there.
She called out, ‘Hello?’
A voice came back. “Hello, do please come in.”
It was dark inside with the brightness of the day behind her, and she couldn’t see anyone as she stepped over the threshold into the huge entrance hall. It was a large house with high vaulted ceilings and a wide staircase in the middle leading off in two directions.
As she stepped further in, the front door swung back behind her. She waited; her whole body on high alert, ready to flee if necessary.
She heard footsteps and could just make out a figure in the shadows to the right of the staircase. It seemed to hover there.
“What can I do for you?”
“I came about my son, Gregory. He came over here to play yesterday and came home terribly upset. I wanted to find out why.”
“Came over to play?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure he came here?”
“Yes, he was invited by your son.”
“He can’t have; my son died last year.”
“Oh I’m so sorry.”
“Maybe it was another boy.”
“Was your son’s name Aaron?”
There was a pause. “Yes.”
“That’s who invited him. He said Aaron had recently joined his class in school.”
“Clearly there has been some mistake. Or maybe this is a prank.”
“A prank? No. Gregory came home really shaken yesterday and won’t tell me what happened. I thought you might be able to help me, that’s all. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
Andrea turned to leave, walking to the door, then she heard a sound coming from upstairs, banging and thumping and then a child’s voice shouting, “No, please, don’t leave, please don’t leave, help me! Help me! I’m up here! I’m trapped.”
Andrea looked round, startled. She could no longer make out a figure by the staircase. “Hello?” There was no answer, so she called out louder, “Hello?” She heard the muffled cries again.
She hesitated. If she went upstairs what would happen? But if she didn’t, what about the child? Something was wrong here; she needed to find out what it was. With sudden bravado she rushed up the staircase. At the top she went left, sure that’s where the sound was coming from. She could still hear thumping.
She was presented with a wide corridor at the top, with rooms leading off. There was a mix of open and closed doors. She steeled herself and called out again, “Hello. Are you still there?”
“Yes, yes, I’m here, please help me,” a muffled voice came back from the right side.
“Keep talking so I can hear you. Tell me about yourself.”
“My name is Aaron. I live here. I was playing with Gregory yesterday but he got spooked by my mother.”
He was further down, she kept walking. “Your mother?”
“Yes she does that sometimes. I tell her not to, but she can’t help herself.”
It was coming from the next room. The door was ajar.
“How did she spook him?”
She pushed the door open. Inside she found a large bedroom, a child’s bedroom with all the toys and clutter all over the floor and surfaces.
“Well she appears when she shouldn’t.”
“So she interrupted you? I think I’m here in the right room. Where are you?”
“I’m in the big wardrobe. It locks behind you if you’re not careful. The butler, Garson, has the day off. I was worried I’d be stuck here till Betty comes to cook me dinner.”
Andrea walked to the large closet and twisted the lock. The door opened. A rusty haired boy the same age as her son stepped out.
“Thank you so much.”
“No problem. But I still don’t understand, why didn’t your mother come and get you out? And why would her interrupting you upset Gregory so much?”
“My mother died last year. It was her ghost.”
May 9, 2018
Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 54
This week's picture prompt was created by Barbara Bezina, a photographer from Argentina. She calls this 'Aguas de Colores' (Water of Colours). You can find more of her art on here website.
With limited computer time due to children on school holidays, it was a struggle to get started with this one and then half way through I couldn't work out an ending. But I kept writing and it appeared, but it was WAY over the word limit, so cut it, but I am still over by 70 words!
With limited computer time due to children on school holidays, it was a struggle to get started with this one and then half way through I couldn't work out an ending. But I kept writing and it appeared, but it was WAY over the word limit, so cut it, but I am still over by 70 words!
