I love creative writing challenges. I usually wind up going to Writing Prompts, but this morning I found a post that posed an equally fun challenge. It’s a contest to write a story in ten words or less. I found that it forced me to be concise and witty without the added verbiage. I am re-posting mine because, yeah, I can be a little vain at times. (Seriously though, I think mine are pretty good… entertaining at the least.)
I think it is important to update the all-too-common tale that pushes specific gender roles, sexual orientation and common misconceptions.
The knight completed the rescue.
“You killed George!” Princess wept.
Help wanted: ‘Save princess from dragon! *female champions preferred.
Save Queen from dragon! Apply within (gay knights only).
Princess had to choose. Frankly, she knew the dragon better.
Princess had to choose. Dragon smirked. Yeah, Stockholm Syndrome.
The smell in the air is different today; it brings the spirit of campground fires, harvested fields, dried leaves, baking breads and root vegetables, the wet cloaking of drizzle, and the spice and warmth of mystery and magic. I hear the precession approaching: the Phoukas and Dark Horses, the Witches of Old and newborn Fae, the Night carnivals and moving statues, the lost Ghosts and wandering Sprites, the Scarecrows and Corvids, the Masked and the Dead, the Legendary and the Forgotten, the Visitors and the Stories from distant lands.
At 5:18pm EDT today, the Autumn Equinox will occur.
May all of you find what you are searching for in the Autumn wind.
Ribbons (various colors)
Horse Skull (mock.. but not mocking)
Glowsticks (yellow and green)
Pumpkin (and baked seeds)
Black, gray, green and yellow paint
It’s been 4 years since I left central Pennsylvania. In my final adios without grand gestures or a carload of tears, I sped off thinking that I would not miss the place. How could I miss the landscape that accompanied me through the awkward and tiring years of premature, rapid, reckless transitions? In the 5 years during undergrad, I felt like I was rushed through a handful of separate lives. College may be the best time of many young people’s lives, but for me, I don’t really regard 18-23 as a ‘fun’ time. Perhaps you may think this is a shame, or maybe you pity me in some way for not enjoying my youth. I’m not too concerned about it though; I have far much more fun in my adult years than many of my peers.
Anyway, back to my point: I never thought I would really miss it. There were a scant number of bars and clubs nearby, and most of them were not impressive or exciting. Nightlife was slow. We’d have to drive an hour to go to a chain that blared country music as the half-naked waitresses as young as I was served watered-down fluorescent beverages to drunken wanna-be cowboys. If we stayed on campus, it was almost a ghost town on the weekends since half to two thirds of the students were either commuters or termed ‘nontraditional’ (i.e. real adults with jobs and/or partners/families). Of the portion of the students left on campus for the weekend, most partied elsewhere with their senior friends and slept during the day. I was not interested in the partying as much as others were. I’ve always freaked my peers out a great deal with my preference for mornings. During college, it was difficult to find a work-out or breakfast partner. Consequentially, I sunshine-surfed on my own, and by the time the girls down the hall were singing and dancing as they dressed for a frat-tastic black-out, I was in my pjs watching Adult Swim. Like I said, I did some of the partying and late-night Denny’s run, but that is not what I miss at all. I miss what I took for granted: the space, the quiet and Nature.
Living at a campus not within walking distance of anything but residential developments and the woods, and having only a small portion of students with whom to interact, it forced me to entertain myself with what was available. I exercised, read, wrote, sketched, studied, and meditated. My memories of the campus on weekends was a big chunk of empty land for me to roam and explore. I got used to the space. I liked the lack of cars that drove by and the quiet of the air.
I visited the woods a lot, sometimes by myself, sometimes with a few others. I found solace by the river and among the trees. What was wonderful was that for the miles I walked in that forest, I never saw more than a couple people on the trails on any given day The golf course nearby was barely seen from the lower riverside and trails, and the golfers never had a reason to venture into the woods. I could feel as if the woods were mine. That is what I miss terribly. I miss having a forest to go to whenever the mood takes me, night or day, summer or winter, fall or spring. I miss being able to walk undisturbed at night by the river and skip stones or talk to spirits. I miss not being able to set up blankets on the green in the golf courses and watch meteor showers. Where we live now, the woods are guarded and watched at night, as are golf courses. They are also not within walking distance like the woods at the edge of my old campus were. I have had so many fantasies about venturing out at night to explore these woods in this area. However, cops seem attracted to my car, and there are not many good places close by to hide it.
I miss land, space, and freedom of wandering, exploration and movement.
Camping is a necessity, but it holds me over for only so long. My ideal is to be hidden from the eyes of humans, safe from the interruptions of cars and businesses and to have the open sky, green forest, and babbling brooks at my doorstep.
Ahead and over.
has ‘Fortuna’? just liberation, fluidly.
“Hello… world. Go seen. the hint is just. We’re holding a can of dues. Called with the inconsequential. That, it’s throne: End A is?”
Tricks, Father. Ability. About the physical, called Just Grey war…
the… the… no memory.
Boundaries: Water roads/paths. over.
My own Muscle-eyes of the world: judgment. Observer: (memory/bias). Where? The memory.
Theirs = Go.
Know the Earth Beach. “is where?” Tricks, the And/Or Beach, and possibility of no options.
(to the I: do own the joke). Human.
No crosses, no deep focus to the Tumbling painful let-go. The meaning… Without Ideas, the observer goes to Logic Destiny.
I’m the delight Light. You’re better.
“Sees not the inconsequential. The holding, the preferences of existence.Know Currents about/are judgment. Currents draw the moment, the ability to think within ‘Fortuna’.”
“Hello… final rationale of anything, was transience. Rolled us… to and fro, no holding some mind’s 20/20. The nod on expecting?”
Voice, but inconsequential.
The fluidly to draw better. Sees and just Go. if we are to Go, (their me?) it’s for the sake of mind at spatter mountains.
Back. Discretion. Keep one’s head about The World, and no- then creation. Interpretation. Just ends and effects.
Fire mind Destiny, present something – after it’s better.
Sees Muscle world, and God mitigates ahead of Man. “So think of the future and its perceptive road. Go to (deep voice) the Water-matter of you.”
UNsensory… The inconsequential.
The ___ of delight follows. What A lies like that? or The me? at A edge No End, know spatter Invisible and the delight about being better.
Sees, but ends finally give over in The holding of physical interpretation. Just not do delight = Molds body.
-Tricks within the ‘One,’ easily.