Ocean, river, pond or stream,
WATER is the central theme.
“Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.”
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Entries by midnightish on Thursday 23 May
Wiki: Artist, Ian Hornak
Foaled in blood, and blessed with wings,
where’er he lights sweet water springs.
Thus, every ringing strike of hooves
his true Divinity he proves.
Grey and pretty, frilled and scaled,
with blood around her head,
at first I couldn’t ascertain
if she were live or dead.
“Some bastard hit her”, I did cry,
“And left her on the road to die.”
Thank you very much, Nym, PapaG and LW, for your entries, which I enjoyed immensely. Well done!
Nym: Magical thinking
An excellent take on the fairytale, Cinderella, which flows nicely and is an absorbing read (you are good at dialogue, Nym; tricky stuff, in my opinion). I expected a happy ending (almost obligatory in such a tale), but still found the final paragraph surprising and delightful.
PapaG: Worlds Apart
This is a difficult and painful subject, but a good choice for the theme. It is usual to attempt to include the required words seamlessly, but I liked the way ‘orange peel’ is used as a conspicuous introduction to the story; very effective. A poignant, affectionate and sensitive portrayal of Auntie, PapaG, with sprinkles of humour.
I had my doubts from the beginning about the wisdom of this inter-species union. It is an odd match, even bizarre, one may say, which makes for a wildly imaginative and entertaining piece, well suited to the theme. I think you could go for a trilogy, LW; this story has legs!
The Creative Writing Competition deadline has been extended. The new deadline is:
Midnight on 9 May 2012.
As discussed on this thread, http://charioteers.org/2012/05/01/a-story, the competition will resume in September.
It doesn’t look at though anyone is inspired this month. Any stories out there?
The theme for April is: “Worlds Apart”.
Please include the words: glutinous and orange peel.
2,000 word limit.
Deadline: midnight 30 April 2012.
He didn’t know why he’d agreed to go on the bloody walk. He was bored by the routine, the domestication, the girl; however prettily packaged. He watched her pick up the house keys which shared a ring with a miniature red penknife (nail file, corkscrew, scissors, blade) and an antique silver whistle, made in England, with some stranger’s spit lurking inside; useless things, worthless sentimental nonsense. He had never understood her attachment to memories. Read more…
She sits in the armchair smoothing the worn fabric. There is an old key on the table. She focuses on the key, clears her mind of grief and allows the happiness to surface and grow like a flame. On this special anniversary, she is weaving magic in the moonlight, plaiting strands of memory to bring them back to her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, my darling. Don’t be late!” He smiles, play growls, and kisses her enthusiastically.
“Easy tiger”, she teases. She watches him walk to the car and waves as he drives off. After she has locked the front door and put the key back on the table, she makes a fuss of Jed, tops up his water and climbs the stairs to bed.
Beyond the kissing gate, the gravestones are rimed with frost, glinting in the sunlight. Her dog looks handsome this morning, sporting a red kerchief and making the best of it. He would rather be about other business, but he keeps pace with her careful steps along the silver path, towards the church door.
Her bridegroom whispers, “You look beautiful, Mary, just like a snow queen.”