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500 X 30 - Doorways

 
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Fri Aug 11, 2006 4:33 pm    Post subject: 500 X 30 - Doorways Reply with quote



Hello, all. Hmm...I guess the last image wasn't all that inspiring. Rolling Eyes Wink That's ok. I couldn't think of anything either. I'll keep trying, but in the meantime, maybe this will get the creative juices going.

I got the image from:

http://www.dreamworlds.org/images/doorways.jpg


Have fun,
shadowlight

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Harry
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PostPosted: Tue Aug 15, 2006 5:14 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

This is my life

Harry Buschman


It doesn’t look like much to you. Why should it? It’s my life and I’ve climbed every step along the way. Now that the circle is closing and there are not many more steps to take, I look behind me to see where I’ve been.

Little niches in the wall – that’s all they appear to be. Empty niches. Empty to you, but not so empty to me. Like those little crystal sugar Easter eggs with a window to look through – I can look in and see things. Some of them I can talk about, others I keep to myself.

It’s best you can’t see them, and when I look back I often shake my head and ask myself, “How could you have done such a thing?” Then I cover the little window with my hand so I can’t see any more. I will leave tears by that window and in time they harden like stalagmites in a cave.

Then there are windows filled with joy and triumph – windows I wish I could share with all of you. But they are so few and so far behind me.

It’s best to keep climbing – to keep my eye on the door ahead. Will it open when I get there, or will it be locked to me? Will I have to make the long voyage back to the beginning?
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Psychoreader
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PostPosted: Tue Aug 15, 2006 1:22 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

This is not my by best one. I had a lot of difficulty with this one. Very evil prompt, Shadowlight. Wink





The Eyes of the Cave


I do not speak, but I greet you all the same. Like all the others, you barely notice as the lights turn on around you. At least not right away.

As soon as you do notice it, you curse softly, weapon at ready. Your companion says it is a natural occurrence.

He explains to you that there are two ways out, but that he must not say much more for fear he will give away secrets that should be known only by the gods. He implies that you are special for being even allowed to see the doorways.

You stiffen. Something does not seem right to you. I can taste the almost-fear on you, but it’s still not enough.

“What if I choose the top doorway?” there is a challenge in your tone, cleverly crafted to disguise nervousness. A useless endeavor when you are in my lair.

Your guide shrugs in response. “I suppose you fall off. There is no bridge leading to the other side. The lower doorway leads down into the earth,” he lowers his voice, “I heard there is treasure down there.”

You throw him a disgusted look. His confidential tone does not impress you, and your natural fear of the unknown dissipates. You knights will be the death of me.

“So what?” you snort in response, “I am on a mission from the emperor and cannot afford to be distracted. I will take the upper way.”

Your companion has already stolen all that you own. He is disappointed that you will not lend yourself easily to being killed. I try to aid him with what little magic I have left.

“There is quite a bit, my lord,” the man wheedles. He wants you dead before you realize what he has done to you.

You shake your head, trying to free yourself from my influence. It doesn’t work.

You nod unnaturally. “Of course. One look won’t hurt anybody.”

You tromp to the lower doorway, and the thief flees. I close it tightly around you. I can feel your horror as you realize that you are unable to get out, and after a while of banging against my eyelid, you decide to make the best of it.

There is no way out, however. You will wander around forever within me, looking for an escape. There is no exit except my other eye, however, and since you had not taken it first, it will no longer lead to safety.

You will wander in circles in this cavern until you eventually die. You will last long; you are not stupid and you have nobility.

As you encounter the horrors that live within me, your fear strengthens me, making me feel alive again, rather than like the cavern I am now. I urge more bats to come forth, more Ogres, more Goblins. They will not go so far as to kill you now, but you do not know that.

The fear you experience because of your ignorance will grant me a few more precious hours of something akin to humanity.

As you cry out your terror, I laugh as I have not laughed in years.

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Psychoreader
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PostPosted: Tue Aug 15, 2006 1:25 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Nice post, Harry. Gave me chills. Could be because I'm cold, but I think that it's because your story was so thought-provoking! Razz

What an awesomely original way to utilize this image!

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Jolanta
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 11:08 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Vintages

Duchess Lucia troubled greatly to leave her chamber unnoticed. She had to be shrewd unusually and careful. Her old husband, Duke Alejandro, was very lively this night. He talked about joyful events from his past and laughed aloud.
He didn’t intend at all to go to his own chamber to go to bed. This night he was willing surprisingly to joke. Lucia pretended to be very sleepy, and she had to do it in a very convincing way because her husband left her at last.

The castle clock struck midnight, but the Duchess didn’t lose heart. She put her new dress, powdered her face, added a bit of rouge on her cheeks, and she was quite ready.
Soon afterwards she went down to a castle cellar where her husband stored bottles and barrels with wine.
But this night Lucia didn’t desire any bottle of wine. This night the cellar was a place of tryst where her young lover, Alvaro, should await her.
So she ran impatiently with bated breath. She was half-way the stairs when she stumbled due to her long gown and fell.

“Alvaro, Alvaro!” she cried in the hope that the young man would hear her voice. But she couldn’t see her lover coming to her rescue.
So she lifted herself, brushed off dust on her dress, and went on.

“Alvaro, Alvaro…” Lucia ran into the cellar with reproach on her face.

But she stopped dead. She was breathless with excitement: in the middle of the room her old husband sat with her young lover. The men drank wine and carried on a discussion…
They didn’t seem to be surprised at her arrival.

“Darling,” her husband asked her with not feigned curiosity, “Which vintage would you like to taste, the old one or the young one…?”


Jolanta Cool
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Psychoreader
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 11:53 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Jograd, when you mentioned the wine cellar and Alvaro, for some reason I thought of Edgar Allen Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado". lol
Your tale was not like that at all. I really like the suprise of this ending.
Laughing
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Jolanta
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 12:51 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Harry,
the image was rather difficult as an inspiration, but you wrote a very original short story.
The little empty niches in your story aroused my imagination.

Psychoreader,
frankly speaking I feared the ubiquitous eyes. I like the climate in the story.
Thank you for reading my piece and your comment.
I must read the text you mentioned Smile .

Jolanta
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dkneip
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 1:44 pm    Post subject: yes Reply with quote

Harry, brilliant essay!
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Harry
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 2:17 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

It's funny, isn't it? We're like witnesses at a trial – we see the same thing, but each of us remembers it differently. How can normal people see fantasy, humor and sadness in the same picture?
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 5:33 pm    Post subject: The Homecoming (WC 500) Reply with quote

Sorry I'm so late with this. I've been very busy this week. Confused Wink But I'm glad to see so many people enjoying the prompts. Here's my take.

I'll read everyone else's as soon as I post. Smile

shadowlight



The Homecoming
© Marlicia Fernandez (WC 500) 8-16-06


Olam stood in the center of the chamber. It was, after Fumer’s lair, the highest point in the mountain. Had El ever felt imprisoned by it? Had loneliness forced her departure? He’d tried to give her the best of all worlds, making sure her living space had privacy and yet remained connected to all she held dear. In the end, it hadn’t been enough. She’d left to discover her people and he hadn’t stood in her way.

Olam knew it wasn’t that she didn’t love him. He was the only family she knew; he and Fumer. She’d tried to be happy here, even if it meant spending warm nights above ground with the wind caressing her skin and the perfume of flowers lulling her into a peaceful sleep. How many nights had she done that before he’d discovered her secret?

He’d rebelled when Fumer told him El needed to find her own kind, to learn the ways of her true people. It wasn’t what Olam wanted to hear, but deep inside, where the love for his adopted daughter lived, he knew Fumer was right. But he’d thought he’d had time. She’d rarely traveled far and always seemed happy to return to him and her home.

Then she’d met Garrett and everything changed. Olam sighed. He wanted to hate Garrett, hate his brother and their people; El’s people for taking from his heart from him, but he couldn’t. She was so happy with them, and she could visit any time she desired.

But visiting wasn’t the same.

Sunlight filtered through the open door at the head of the stairs. The grassy outcropping it led to was large enough to hold Fumer and any visitors the dragon might bring. Even in solitude it seemed to speak to her elfin heart the way no dwarf-mine, even one resplendent with gold and gems, ever could. Flowers were her favorite ornaments, and they grew outside. She needed fresh air and light and yes, even rain if she was to be happy.

He trudged up the stairs. El would arrive soon and he wanted her room to be perfect. Reaching the top, he pushed open the crystal door. The sun was sinking into the horizon, but there was time to gather her favorite flowers. He thought about the necklace and crown he’d fashioned for her. One to be given this night, as a birthday gift, the other on the eve of her coronation, both bearing the fire sapphires of her house, and her favorite gemstone. Would she like them? He could only hope.

Olam scanned the darkening sky for Fumer without success. He stooped to gather the last of the flowers and then, arms full of blossoms, stepped through the crystal doorway and down the stairs.

The flowers went into vases and candles were lit. He patted his pocket, relieved to find the necklace still in place. All seemed to be ready. But how did one prepare for a daughter who happened to be a princess?

[end?]

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Last edited by shadowlight on Thu Aug 17, 2006 10:38 am; edited 1 time in total
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 5:42 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wow! What a wonderful set of stories to come from this prompt, each very different and each very entertaining.

Harry,

What can I say? I've been reading your stories for a long time and they never disappoint me. This one doesn't either. It made me think of a person looking back on his life, some regrets and hopefully many good things to remember, while keeping his eye firmly on his destination. I hope the door opens for him.

Psychoreader,

Can it be we have another fantasy writer among us? Smile I liked this story a lot and felt for the poor hero. At first I thought he was inside a dragon's eye, but now I'm not so certain. This could be expanded, I think. Well done, and I'm so glad you have joined us at the 500 word project.

Jograd,

Loved this. The ending was perfect. It makes the whole story. I wonder if they were discussing her. Did her young lover give her away? Did the husband suspect. Does her husband intend to have civilized conversation with them before walling them up as in the aforementioned Poe story? Very nicely done.

shadowlight

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Last edited by shadowlight on Thu Aug 17, 2006 10:43 am; edited 1 time in total
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Harry
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 17, 2006 5:14 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Marlicia

The old familiar cast of characters – To those of you who don't know Fumer and El and Olam and Garrett, they are the fantasy offspring of Marlicia, and you find them running through her chapters of fantasy. Just before I drift off to sleep at bedtime, I find myself saying 'goodnight' to them. Thanks for making them so human.
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Jolanta
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 17, 2006 10:24 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Marlicia,

your story arouses many positive feelings and emanates a sweet, peaceful climate.
I love such complex sentences like, “She’d tried to be happy here, even if it meant spending warm nights above ground with the wind caressing her skin and the perfume of flowers lulling her into a peaceful sleep.”

Having read your story, I feel lulled… Smile

Thank you very much for your nice words about my text.
I didn’t know at all so far that I love writing short stories… I wish I had more time to develop my texts; to correct them, or to add something interesting to them. Everything is spontaneous, but thank God, they seem to be understood by you (I think of my English, of course).
Thank you one more time.

Jolanta Cool
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shadowlight
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 17, 2006 10:50 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Harry,


Thank you for taking the time to read and comment on this for me. I'm glad you think I've made my characers 'human' (though Fumer might not appreciate the wonderful compliment. Wink ) Thank you very much for your kind words and encouragement, and for the introductions made to the newer members of our club. El et al, thank you, as do I. Smile

Jograd,

Thank you also. I'm so glad you enjoyed this little snippet and that you felt 'lulled' by it. This is a different side to these characters, one I thought might be interesting to explore (though I didn't realize it until I started writing. LOL)

You are doing so well with your stories. THis is the place for the freewrite pieces, you can always fill them out and edit later, and then submit them to Clive (to be posted here) or a magazine or e-zine for publication.

THanks again, for your comments, Harry and Jograd. I appreciate them.

marlicia

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Psychoreader
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 17, 2006 12:09 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Shadowlight --
Thank you so much for your kind comments! Very Happy

As for your story -- what can I say? Very nice! Sounds like there's some backstory that you are not showing the rest of us, though! Wink Look forward to seeing more of your stuff.

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Jolanta
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PostPosted: Thu Aug 17, 2006 12:17 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thank you, Marlicia, for your advice.
I have a little time generally speaking; my work and my family take much time.
But if I HAVE to write a story or a poem, then no power can keep me from doing it. Perhaps that is why I always write in a very short time…

But I know exactly what I’ll be doing when I am old.
Additionally I will be taking pictures (Hello, Janett, my unequalled master!)

Jolanta Smile
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janett
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PostPosted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 12:11 pm    Post subject: doorways Reply with quote

Hi Jolanta, thanks for the nice hello welcome. you have a great eye yourself>>

http://www.janett.ca/jolantasphotoonblack.htm

forgive me for taking liberty Cool .. okay, or not, Smile...we'll call it a one day show:lol:

J

thankyou for sharing your photos, and stories...i enjoy them very much. There is a lot of talent here in the 500 word club


Last edited by janett on Mon Aug 21, 2006 4:22 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Jolanta
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PostPosted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 12:55 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Oh, Janett, I don't know what to say.
I really don't want to say...

Thank you very much, Janett. You are a very talentet painter and photographer.
I only dare to follow you timidly.

Jolanta Smile
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Paul Grimsley
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PostPosted: Mon Aug 28, 2006 7:39 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Paragon Virtue was a self-appointed God Of The Doorways. He had ousted Janus and deposed Father Time in a move that sent waves out through the Chronon Seas which drowned many an era on distant worlds. But he had forgotten many things since the ebb and flow of countless histories he had stepped through had begun to leech away at the stability that one timeline had provided him with.

So here he was, returned to the first stitch in time that he had placed, after instruction from The Great Seamstress, to remember what he was. He sat there for aeons contemplating this simple construction that he had used to bind his first universe -- one of the best Alpha-Omega gates ever forged if those in the know were to be believed.

What must he do to understand the truth though? He remembered that old adage that all stories must have a beginning, middle and end. He had never understood the need for conclusion if truth be told. His first creation might teach him. He stepped through that door.
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