Word for Wednesday is a challenge that was started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable event with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words provided by a number of people.
The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.
In May, David M Gascoigne will supply us with prompts, but they'll appear at Elephant's Child.
It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.
So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.
This Wednesday's prompts:
Villian
Visit
Bone
Stork
Memory
And/or
Imprinted
Human
Kink
Spring
Faithful
As I said some time ago, I have a story to tell, and I fear this might turn into one of my marathon-tales running over weeks and weeks before reaching its end. But I am writing again. I am happy!
Here we go. This is happening in the 3rd year on Unicorn Farm, in the short Shrove holidays - this was a thing in Denmark before the winter holiday in February was a thing, we had several single holidays spread over the year, the King and Queen's birthdays, Shrove Monday, Constitution day, and a bit more days in the Christmas holidays.
Susan knew a villain when she saw one, and Tristan certainly was one. Ever since Christmas holidays she, Heidi, Tage and Lis had been sure he was a bad one. Helge and the Flower power girls were almost convinced, as were the Swedish bunch. Now he once again had decided to visit Unicorn Farm over the short Fastelavns (Shrovetide) holidays. Susan wanted to get away. She had met a stray dog when arriving - she had needed some fresh air after a long day at school and at home with smoking family visiting, and then the dizzying portal, and had went for a stroll before joining the other apprentices at the Farm.
She sneaked a bone from the lunch and left. The bleak February sunshine was not exactly warm, rather with a promise of warmth to come, She walked along the dirt road engrossed in her own thoughts. Suddenly a big bird flew up. Was that a stork? Susan thought. No, no way, It's far too early. The storks only arrive in April. It must have been a heron or a crane ... bugger I always mix them up, the straight necked one. A crane Susan decided. Or maybe a swan. Swans, black swans ... they existed only two places in Denmark, she was told. In the moat around Castle Kronborg in Elsinore, she has seen these several times when crossing the castle grounds on her way to the beach. She still cherished the memory of one of the swans chasing off a fox one early morning. It had probably seen the cygnets as a quick breakfast, but it had not taken an angry mother swan into consideration. I had been one of the white ones, though. Black swans did not breed in Denmark.
She arrived at the small clump of trees where she had seen the stray yesterday. It had been OK, Susan had made sure of that using her animal skills, just wanting to be left alone. Susan though that it might be more sociable and hungry, today. She called for the dog, first with words, and then with her mind, but no dog came running towards her. Wondering Susan walked into the thicket. She found the place where the dog had slept, a shallow indentation,where the downtrodden grass still formed a nest-like structure, but it was quite cold. It had been dry for weeks and there was almost no chance of tracks, but Susan looked anyway. And yes, in the grass leading away from her she found what could me a path. She slowly walked along it, careful to keep to the undisturbed grass, looking at the ground. Her patience was rewarded with an imprint of a dog's paws where the thicket gave way to fields. Clear and sharp prints, not old. From here it was easy, the plowed fields was like an open book. She saw the dog chase, but never catch rabbits, looping back towards the thicket, remaking its mind, instead walking slowly - seen by the closer together paw prints - towards the short row of houses lining the road away from the water. Maybe they had been cooking something nice. Then she saw something she had not expected. Human footprints. Coming from the houses, standing still, meeting with the paw-prints, and then both set of prints walking away together, direction houses. This did not tally with the impression, Susan had gotten from the dog yesterday. "Leave me alone," it had told her. "I am weary, old and sad. I need time, time alone. Leave me, please."
A kink in the straight line of tracks, made Susan return to the barren fields. The sun, never high in the sky, was now nearing the horizon. At six she had to be back at the Farm. Three quarters of an hour left, her wristwatch told her. No time for dawdling. She followed the traces onwards, now making a beeline for the small blue house placed a little distance from the others at the end of the row.
She walked onto the road, the field was cloggy, tiring to walk in, and she had seen what she needed to know where the dog was. Had the man kidnapped the dog? She had to know. It had seemed so listless, so sad yesterday. It should not end it's day as someone's plaything, or even worse one one of the places, Susan had heard of where they tested make up, drugs and medicine on animals. Susan was not sure the latter was true, she suspected her classmates once again were trying to pull her leg, but nonetheless, dogs were kidnapped now and then.
Walking on the road soon gave her steps back their spring, and she made good time getting to the blue house.
Behind the blue house, a small shed could be seen. This would be the perfect place to hide a dog. Susan passed the house and walked a bit further along before she sat down on a stone pulling off one shoe, as if to get rid of a stone. She cast about for traces of the dog. As she opened up her animal sense, she was almost knocked silly. The blue house had several animal inhabitants - and the dog was in there. In the house proper, not in the shed, along with cats, at least one owl, some amphibians, and rodents.
Susan suddenly knew the house, or at least she knew of the house. She had been here before. Years ago she bought a miniature grandfather clock for her doll's house. The wonder was that it was a real watch, faithfully keeping time ever since. She wondered if the clockmaker still lived there or what had happened.
The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.
In May, David M Gascoigne will supply us with prompts, but they'll appear at Elephant's Child.
It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.
So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.
- - A - - B - - C - -
This Wednesday's prompts:
Villian
Visit
Bone
Stork
Memory
And/or
Imprinted
Human
Kink
Spring
Faithful
As I said some time ago, I have a story to tell, and I fear this might turn into one of my marathon-tales running over weeks and weeks before reaching its end. But I am writing again. I am happy!
Here we go. This is happening in the 3rd year on Unicorn Farm, in the short Shrove holidays - this was a thing in Denmark before the winter holiday in February was a thing, we had several single holidays spread over the year, the King and Queen's birthdays, Shrove Monday, Constitution day, and a bit more days in the Christmas holidays.
Susan knew a villain when she saw one, and Tristan certainly was one. Ever since Christmas holidays she, Heidi, Tage and Lis had been sure he was a bad one. Helge and the Flower power girls were almost convinced, as were the Swedish bunch. Now he once again had decided to visit Unicorn Farm over the short Fastelavns (Shrovetide) holidays. Susan wanted to get away. She had met a stray dog when arriving - she had needed some fresh air after a long day at school and at home with smoking family visiting, and then the dizzying portal, and had went for a stroll before joining the other apprentices at the Farm.
She sneaked a bone from the lunch and left. The bleak February sunshine was not exactly warm, rather with a promise of warmth to come, She walked along the dirt road engrossed in her own thoughts. Suddenly a big bird flew up. Was that a stork? Susan thought. No, no way, It's far too early. The storks only arrive in April. It must have been a heron or a crane ... bugger I always mix them up, the straight necked one. A crane Susan decided. Or maybe a swan. Swans, black swans ... they existed only two places in Denmark, she was told. In the moat around Castle Kronborg in Elsinore, she has seen these several times when crossing the castle grounds on her way to the beach. She still cherished the memory of one of the swans chasing off a fox one early morning. It had probably seen the cygnets as a quick breakfast, but it had not taken an angry mother swan into consideration. I had been one of the white ones, though. Black swans did not breed in Denmark.
She arrived at the small clump of trees where she had seen the stray yesterday. It had been OK, Susan had made sure of that using her animal skills, just wanting to be left alone. Susan though that it might be more sociable and hungry, today. She called for the dog, first with words, and then with her mind, but no dog came running towards her. Wondering Susan walked into the thicket. She found the place where the dog had slept, a shallow indentation,where the downtrodden grass still formed a nest-like structure, but it was quite cold. It had been dry for weeks and there was almost no chance of tracks, but Susan looked anyway. And yes, in the grass leading away from her she found what could me a path. She slowly walked along it, careful to keep to the undisturbed grass, looking at the ground. Her patience was rewarded with an imprint of a dog's paws where the thicket gave way to fields. Clear and sharp prints, not old. From here it was easy, the plowed fields was like an open book. She saw the dog chase, but never catch rabbits, looping back towards the thicket, remaking its mind, instead walking slowly - seen by the closer together paw prints - towards the short row of houses lining the road away from the water. Maybe they had been cooking something nice. Then she saw something she had not expected. Human footprints. Coming from the houses, standing still, meeting with the paw-prints, and then both set of prints walking away together, direction houses. This did not tally with the impression, Susan had gotten from the dog yesterday. "Leave me alone," it had told her. "I am weary, old and sad. I need time, time alone. Leave me, please."
A kink in the straight line of tracks, made Susan return to the barren fields. The sun, never high in the sky, was now nearing the horizon. At six she had to be back at the Farm. Three quarters of an hour left, her wristwatch told her. No time for dawdling. She followed the traces onwards, now making a beeline for the small blue house placed a little distance from the others at the end of the row.
She walked onto the road, the field was cloggy, tiring to walk in, and she had seen what she needed to know where the dog was. Had the man kidnapped the dog? She had to know. It had seemed so listless, so sad yesterday. It should not end it's day as someone's plaything, or even worse one one of the places, Susan had heard of where they tested make up, drugs and medicine on animals. Susan was not sure the latter was true, she suspected her classmates once again were trying to pull her leg, but nonetheless, dogs were kidnapped now and then.
Walking on the road soon gave her steps back their spring, and she made good time getting to the blue house.
Behind the blue house, a small shed could be seen. This would be the perfect place to hide a dog. Susan passed the house and walked a bit further along before she sat down on a stone pulling off one shoe, as if to get rid of a stone. She cast about for traces of the dog. As she opened up her animal sense, she was almost knocked silly. The blue house had several animal inhabitants - and the dog was in there. In the house proper, not in the shed, along with cats, at least one owl, some amphibians, and rodents.
Susan suddenly knew the house, or at least she knew of the house. She had been here before. Years ago she bought a miniature grandfather clock for her doll's house. The wonder was that it was a real watch, faithfully keeping time ever since. She wondered if the clockmaker still lived there or what had happened.
... to be continued.
