In May, David M Gascoigne will supply us with prompts, but they'll still appear at Elephant's Child.
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.
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:
Beating
Evidence
Remaining
Temperature
Stench
and/or
Excessive
Oppressive
Exposure
Dryland
Cover
Fred looked like a man who had taken a beating. "They are after me again!" he whispered, his pale shin and hunched body evidence of the stress he felt. Sue shifted the dogs around, Erynn to her right hand and one of the pups to her left. Bill took the leash of the remaining pup, and together they waited.
The temperature dropped another few degrees as the ghosts gathered round.
Fred feel to his knees and whimpered, the dogs reacted to the stench of his fear and keened.
Fred started to moan as the ghosts gathered from the wreck. "No!" he said distinctly. "No! I did not do it, it was not me ... I know it looked like it. But it was NOT ME!"
He buried his face in his hands, then looked straight at the ghosts: "It was my smallest brother who did it. Also a Fred, I did not know he was my brother. He did it. He killed the hellish captain, not me. I liked him so much: I thought he was a distant cousin. He was my brother ... now he's dead. I never told on him. But now he's dead. I can tell. He killed the captain ... you!" Fred pointed at one of the ghosts. "You are the monster. You took excessive pleasure in punishing us, your crew. Your oppressive way of handling anything from bitter coffee to mutiny. The first mate ... you killed him ... he died from exposure in the drylands. and Fred - my brother - you made him cover up for you. It broke him. Then he stole my gun ... I know, I should not have had that gun ... he stole it. He killed you with my gun. I never squealed ... you have been haunting me ever since. I never broke ... it would have killed his mother if Fred had been hanged, or put in jail ... he was the apple of that old lady's eye, Her youngest son. Take me now. I'm tired of running!"
Fred stooped, let his arms hang loose touching the sand and bowed his head.
Sue let Erynn and Hue off their leashes, and Bill did the same with Rynn. The ghost dogs sniffed Fred, and licked his hands. Then they tore into the pack of ghosts. Ectoplasm and sand flew, baying and keening mingled with Fred's sobbing and the waves' crashing against the shore.
Finally the moon shone upon a silent shore. The ghosts were no more, and the shipwreck was now truly a wreck, about to be washed away by the waves.
"There's only one question we need the answer to now," Bill said softly. "How did the ship end up here as a wreck, and how did all the people aboard die, only not you?"
"Only not me and my brother Fred," Fred said. "It is quickly done. As I told you in the beginning, a storm came up only hours later. The captain was an old bastard, but he was a seaman to the bones and marrow. With him dead, there was not a thing we could do to save The Merry Mermaid from the storm. I made Fred, my brother, take the smallest lifeboat and get off. Some of he others fell over me for doing this, and while we fought, the ship was hit by the storm. It took a giant wave the wrong way, lost the rudder and some of the sails. From then we just hang on for dear life. As to why I survived, and nobody else, I have no idea. I had not been long on that boat. Me and Fred, it was our first trip. All the others were old hands. Maybe the older ghosts from the ship helped me. I have always seen ghosts."
"The dogs felt your innocence - in this matter," Sue said. "Now you're free to leave, the ghosts are annihilated and won't haunt you ever again. What you do with your life from now on is your own responsibility."
Fred rose from the sand. "I thank you." He sat down on a driftwood log. "I do not know what to do, where to go. But I'll manage." He rose and walked towards the road, his steps becoming more and more confident, as he sensed that he was well and truly free of the curse.
- - A - - B - - C - -
And today's Wordle (1.418) 6/6 -
Phew! I think they have become harder here in May.
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🟩🟨🟩🟩🟨
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- - A - - B - - C - -
The monthly question from the Insecure Writers' Support Group is due today, April 2nd.
I'd like to thank the crew for their never ceasing inspiration and quirky questions.
May 7 question - Some common fears writers share are rejection, failure, success, and lack of talent or ability. What are your greatest fears as a writer? How do you manage them?
My answer - Funnily I do not fear rejection or failure, but success - I can relate to this, because if I should become an accomplished author, there's so much that's expected of you. Book signings, promotion tours, meet the readers ... all this.
So far this has not been an issue as I've only published a non-fiction book and a lot of smaller articles - nobody knows who I am.
I think that if I ever get to publish my books I'm going to use a pen name, so that nobody will know I'm the author.
One other thing I fear almost even more is mistakes, errors, bloopers, inconsistencies. Also spelling mistakes and grammatical errors - more so as I'm not a native speaker.
I've seen and agonized so much over this in other books: Why has he always been an accomplished sailor in book three, when he was almost a hydrophobic in book one? Why is her pet suddenly called by another name? How did that tunic change colour from blue to green? How could the sun rise behind them when they were travelling eastwards?
My answer to this are threefold: lists, facts-checking (bordering on the obsessional), and re-reading.
