r/WritingPrompts • u/Cody_Fox23 Skulking Mod | r/FoxFictions • Jul 19 '20
Constrained Writing [CW] Smash 'Em Up Sunday: Strange Land
Welcome back to Smash ‘Em Up Sunday!
Last Week
Hoo boy. Last week was intense huh? I do apologize that the constraints may have felt too constrained stylistically. But from what I read you all thrived under it. That said, as you may notice from my last sentence, I didn’t read everything yet. As always I am more committed to regular posting times than delaying for a full selection. So up the post goes without Cody's Choices.
I just kinda forgot it was Sunday until like an hour and a half ago.
Sorry about that x.x
My choices will be in next week. I do appreciate your patience when these events happen. I’m only 3/4 of the way down the list and have 6 stories on the shortlist! It will take time to narrow it down.
Community Choice
This week was brutal. Tons of names were thrown around. More than any other week I think actually. Coming out on top though by one vote, is /u/chineseartist’s The Hunter and The Hunted.
Cody’s Choice
DELAYED DUE TO BAD TIME MANAGEMENT SKILLS.
This Week’s Challenge
So the movie director schtick wasn’t going well. My intention is for SEUS to be welcoming and fun. There was a valid crit that a lot of the weeks were going to be samey as I was concentrating on one type of film: the summer blockbuster. The nuance of a director’s vision and script selection was very difficult to put into a story.
Especially if you aren’t a film nerd.
Therefore I’m scrapping that for the rest of the month. These last two are going to be old school nothing-fancy SEUSes until we hit August and we hit a new theme. I hope you’ll enjoy them all the same.
This week I liked the idea of characters displaced. There is no set why. There is no set how. There is no set genre. There is no set narrative device. Just a character is suddenly somewhere they haven’t been before. At least knowingly.
Oh and I’m throwing strange words at you because nothing is ever easy!
BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE!
There seems to be a lot of people that come by and read everyone’s stories and talk back and forth. I would love for those people to have a voice in picking a story. So I encourage you to come back on Saturday and read the stories that are here. Send me a DM either here or on Discord to let me know which story is your favorite!
The one with the most votes will get a special mention.
How to Contribute
Write a story or poem, no more than 800 words in the comments using at least two things from the three categories below. The more you use, the more points you get. Because yes! There are points! You have until 11:59 PM EDT 25 July 2020 20 to submit a response.
| Category | Points |
|---|---|
| Word List | 1 Point |
| Sentence Block | 2 Points |
| Defining Features | 3 Points |
Word List
Exotic
Deja-Visite
Obambulate
Limpid
Sentence Block
I had no idea who they were.
The blooms were gorgeous.
Defining Features
In Medias Res opening.
Employ Anaphora. (A repeated line or part of a line that lends emphasis to an idea)
What’s happening at /r/WritingPrompts?
Join in the fun of our Summer Challenge! How many stories can you write this season?
Nominate your favourite WP authors or commenters for Spotlight and Hall of Fame! We count on your nominations to make our selections.
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Want to help the community run smoothly? Try applying for a mod position. We could use another ambassador to the Galactic Community after all.
I hope to see you all again next week!
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u/Badderlocks_ Jul 25 '20 edited Jul 27 '20
And all at once, the blinding light vanished and I could see before me a vast valley, covered in wildflowers. And though the blooms were gorgeous, I felt the hatred in the air, the hatred of the trespassed.
And though the land was foreign to me and the plants were exotic and the light of the sun was cold and the sky above was cloudless and dark all at once, I knew I had been there before. And even as the sensation of deja-visite faded, I knew that I would be back again before I came to my final rest.
And as I stood amongst the flowers of the valley and sought familiarity, a great host appeared, and I had no idea who they were, but they were marching to war, at first orderly but then changing directions at the whim of their general, a man with six faces who ombabulations lacked sense, lacked reason, lacked motive. And as the army marched, they struck out at the blossoms around them, cutting them down for no reason other than to destroy that which was foreign to them.
And though the flowers felt the loss with keen pain, they could do nothing to stop the advancing foe, and they wilted in fear of the general choosing their path next.
And then, with a crashing fanfare of brass and glory, the blinding light returned and the man with six faces could not look away and he was blinded and his wandering was halted and the flowers of the field rejoiced, for the whims of the enemy had been halted, and they rose to their former glory.
And the general’s host was scattered, but they were tripped by the roots of the flowers below. And at once, a great surge appeared and its waters washed away retreating foe and brought life back to the valley.
And when the waters receded, the general did not remain, but some of his men did. And their eyes were limpid like pure crystal, like flowing water, for the blinders had been lifted from them. And they repented at the pain they had caused and for the remainder of the day, they sowed and planted, and though the loss of the old flowers was severe, the new blossoms soon soared above, their colors mingling with the old to create a painting, a symphony of color that overwhelmed the dark above.
And even as the cold sun set, the light of the flowers cast the valley into a dim glow, and the valley was at peace.
As has been said, so shall it be.
WC 434. Kinda went for a Revelations vibe because... I don't really know why.
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u/lynx_elia Jul 25 '20 edited Jul 25 '20
Nice. I get that Revelations vibe, I get that.
You don’t need all those commas before the ‘and’s, though. For polysyntedon, which I assume you’re going for, the ands are used instead of commas. I bet it will create a beautiful flow when you take them out. Which will go nicely with the fields of flowers blooming and cutting and sowing and growing again. :)
Edit to add: This sounds amazing when read aloud!
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u/Badderlocks_ Jul 27 '20
Thanks a million! I definitely like that better with way fewer commas now that I've had a chance to look at it again.
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Jul 25 '20
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u/writes-on-a-whim Jul 25 '20
I always forget how terrific a story can be when told through the eyes of an animal. It really opens up the possibilities of telling the story through a few different lenses, which is what you did a wonderful job at here. I like the fact that you set the story up to where there is peace in the beginning, and then the protagonist is thrust into conflict. I would love to read more, wonderful job.
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u/mobaisle_writing Jul 25 '20
I like the reincarnation twist and the magical realist approach through the eyes of a dog. Only thing I might be leery of is being specific with 'cancer'. Because of the narrative framing, it feels a little bit like telling, and a touch out of place. A dog could tell someone is ill or sick, but probably wouldn't know what cancer was.
All in all an enjoyable, bittersweet read. Congrats.
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u/lynx_elia Jul 25 '20 edited Jul 25 '20
Hmmm, great point! I’m going to change that. Thanks for reading :)
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u/CuratorOfThorns Jul 25 '20
Bottomless
The blooms were gorgeous, but that was little consolation as I collapsed amongst them; a sea of yellow and crimson rapidly rising above my head as I sank to the ground.
It was quiet, beneath them; the blooms a muffling blanket against the screaming chorus of voices in the air. It was quiet beneath the blooms; quiet enough for the pervading sense of deja-visite to be the loudest thing in my head. Quiet enough for me to hear the way that the stalks rustled just so over towards the east, and quiet enough for me to know that that sound meant safety.
The blooms were helpful, and even with my flagging energy it was easy progress; the stalks bending smoothly around me as I crawled forward. They parted suddenly; one second immersing me completely and the next closing as a solid wall behind me. I cringed instinctually as I heard them smooth back into place but the screaming didn’t resume; instead leaving me in a perfect silence to match the perfect stillness of the pool of water before me.
I didn’t bother to rise to my feet as I moved towards it; in my exhaustion and eagerness I simply scrabbled forwards on hands and knees. Every motion forward felt more and more like home, and I plunged into its crystal clear embrace without a moment’s hesitation.
It came to life as soon as I did - colours blooming forth from the bottomless depth in exotic fractals; the previously limpid waters stained red and yellow in a twisted mirror of the field around me. I managed to snatch a bare moment of clarity as the pool lost its own - an encompassing sense of deja-vecu warning me of the wrong - before the solidifying tendrils wrapped themselves around my ankles, yanking me down below the surface.
And down. And down and down and down and down and dow-
xXx
I dragged myself out of the pool, retching sour water out onto grassy ground as I crawled desperately away from the edge; frantically scraping my bare feet against my ankles in an effort to dislodge tendrils no longer present. I was on my feet and running before I realised that I had no idea where I was - and only a vague notion of swimming and blooming colours and down to explain how I’d gotten there.
The fear of drowning induced brain damage occurred to me when the voices started up.
They started low at first; an unintelligible murmuring from all around me as I angled my run towards a field of familiar-scented flowers. They grew louder and louder, though, as I approached the vibrant red and yellow blooms - more and more voices joining in as I realised that I couldn’t understand them.
I had no idea what they were saying, though I was certain that they were speaking English. It was almost comforting, familiar. I had no idea what they were saying, I had no idea who they were, but I was keen to grasp onto anything that felt like comfort.
Until I realised that they obviously wanted something.
And I had no idea what they wanted.
The voices rose higher and higher; the crescendo unceasing regardless of which way I ran, regardless of how I begged and pleaded (in a language that I didn’t even know if they could understand) for them to stop. They stole everything from me but the desperate need for silence, for a solution that they couldn’t communicate. I ran until my whole world was nothing but the screaming chorus and the whisper of the waist-high blooms around me.
I tired, eventually, and had to slow - unwilling to stop in my search for peace but content to obambulate; slowly pulling one foot in front of the other in the hope that each step would be the one to quiet the voices, to reveal the edge of the eternal field of blooms that I wandered through, to change something.
I couldn’t wander forever, though, and when I got tired enough that I started to stumble with every few steps I just let myself fall; tumbling down into the sweet-scented everything.
The blooms were gorgeous, but that was little consolation as I collapsed amongst them.
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u/lynx_elia Jul 25 '20
I liked this story - so many creepy ones this week! - especially the repeated colours and sounds. I’d have a look at whether all your semi-colons are necessary; whilst nice to see them I think they could be regular commas in several places. Otherwise, I enjoyed the circularity of the story and the repeated use of ‘and’ when the MC is falling down was very effective. :)
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u/CuratorOfThorns Jul 25 '20
It's very possible that I've over- indulged myself with the semicolons (again). I'll have to take a look to see where I can improve the rhythm - thank you so much for taking the time to leave some feedback for me :)
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u/sevenseassaurus Jul 25 '20 edited Jul 25 '20
The engine roared.
It made my skin crawl, the strange lights and noises and vibrations. I had taken up pacing, a habit that at least allowed me to pretend I could still run from whatever happenings happened. I rounded a corner with my eyes on the floor.
“Please do not obambulate.”
Cripes. Those things always knew how to catch me off-guard.
“Please do not… what?”
“Ob-ambulate. Is this not in the English?”
“No.” Or at least the word was beyond me. How a band of aliens managed to learn only the fanciest words in the thesaurus was beyond me too. Actually, just about everything that had happened since who-knows-how-long was beyond me.
“Ah. We believe it to mean ‘wander’, and we believe that the Latin ‘ob’ names it obstructive wandering.”
“Obstructive?”
“Yes. You are obstruent, and we are preparing to land. Please return to your pod.”
Preparing to land. Return to my pod. Why did that sound so normal now? When did I get used to this? I did as I was told; I had no reason not to. That’s just the way things were, or rather, the way things had become.
Not too long ago I had been an ordinary Earthling. Then I woke up with tubes in my arms and flabby, green faces staring down at me, and like any ordinary Earthling I panicked. I had no idea who they were, what they were even. They kept me on a ship so quintessentially sci-fi that every room gave me deja-vu—no, that’s not right. What was it, deja-visite? Bah, I’ll leave the big words to my abductors—and explained everything while telling me nothing.
And now we were preparing to land. I paced in much-too-small circles around my pod. Preparing to land, but not on Earth that’s for sure. I would never see it again, would I. No more blue skies, no more daisies. No more tightwad bosses, no more empty-bellied scrounging for rent. No more—
The engine stopped roaring. I dared to peek out of my pod.
“We have landed.”
Cripes, again? Right at my door. Didn’t these things ever knock?
“Follow us,” the alien continued. “We will conduct you to the terminus.”
I did as I was told. Around a corner, down a hall, through a doorway, around another corner, down a ramp, and—
It was beautiful. Magenta skies, auburn trees with yellow flowers. The blooms were gorgeous, bouncing off the branches like Goldilocks’ curls.
“We aspire to please you with our accommodations,” my escort explained. “We keep our streets burnished and our aqueducts limpid.”
“Yeah, I like it,” I answered.
I smelled an exotic flower and took a breath of alien air.
When would this become normal? When would I get used to this? I followed my abductors and did as they asked. If this was the way things would be, I would not be pacing again any time soon.
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u/JohnGarrigan Jul 24 '20 edited Jul 25 '20
“And so, as you stand here, heading out into the strange new world you find...”
Katie leaned over to Lisa. “He loves to Obambulate, doesn’t he.”
“He loves to what?”
“Emmulate Obama. You know, the first black president. He—”
“Yeah, I know who Obama is. That isn’t a word.”
“Is too. English is awesome.”
Lisa elbowed Katie in the ribs, earning a grunt. Around them, several robed figures turned, glaring.
“Do not be surprised if you experience deja-visite,” the speaker continued. “The essence of learning is to extrapolate what you know onto what you now experience. You will find…”
“At least it isn’t the usual,” Lisa whispered, leaning over so no one else could hear.
“The usual?”
“You know, that one book everyone uses. I can’t remember it.”
“If you can’t remember it, is it really that usual?” Katie asked, fully aware of what book it was and how often it was used. The corner of her mouth twitched, but with their focus on the stage Lisa couldn’t see it.
At least, Katie hoped she couldn’t.
“I remember a trip to the memorial gardens here,” the speaker went on, relating some anecdote neither girl cared about. “The blooms were gorgeous, but there was a group of kids playing. I had no idea who they were, but I introduced myself anyway.”
“Because you cannot not speak.”
Katie snorted, barely keeping in the laughter bubbling to the surface.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if he had a limpid voice, but it's just so dull. It's like Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller.”
“A what voice?”
“Limpid.”
“That isn’t a word.”
“Is too. English is awesome.”
Katie glared at Lisa.
“It has all these exotic words, and you can use them to make up other words and pretend you know what you are talking about.”
Katie punched Lisa in the arm. Around them, a dozen graduates turned to look as Lisa shouted.
Katie’s cheeks flushed. As they turned back around, Lisa leaned over.
“Serves you right,” she whispered.
WC: 334
More stories at r/JohnGarrigan
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u/lynx_elia Jul 25 '20
Ha. Emulating Obama. But where was the mike drop? And what’s the book? We might need to know if someone reading this is planning on being valedictorian... ;)
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u/JohnGarrigan Jul 25 '20
The book is Oh the Places You'll Go, read at many, many graduations (in the US), by Dr SEUSs
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u/GammaGames Jul 24 '20 edited Jul 26 '20
A Stroll Through Cathedral Park
Phillip obambulated through Cathedral Park, the warm night air washing over him. He was alone, but he preferred it this way. Exploring the dark monuments was a favorite activity on nights his insomnia gripped him tightly. Threading through the towering arches the air felt different tonight. It felt charged, almost electric.
He stepped from the safety of the lamplight and under an arch, descending the tunnel of stairs by memory. Phillip had work in the morning and moved hastily to shorten his visit. He stepped down and his stomach dropped, foot landing crooked and rolling under his weight. He tumbled down the steps.
Phillip landed on the hard stone, shocked and confused. Shapes floating before him, blooming gorgeously in and out of focus. His head pulsed and he rubbed his eyes to make them limpid once again. Pushing himself up, he scanned to make sure nobody had seen. In the distance beyond the path a shape moved and quickly hid from sight. Have to watch for the dog he told himself. Avoidable, but still somewhat territorial.
He limped through the park, peering at his surroundings as he went. They seemed different. Maybe the concussion was worse than I thought. On the surface, it appeared similar, but small details were out of place: lamps cast a dim flickering light onto the path, slabs in the path weren't laid flat, and trash stuck in the untrimmed shrubs. The air hummed around him eerily. Another shadow moved in the corner of his eye. He turned his head sharply, watching it hesitate before retreating behind a sculpture.
Who was that, were they following? Phillip's pace quickened and he stumbled over a loose tile in the path. He glanced back and the creature stood in the lamplight watching his retreat. Its pale naked body, lacking any distinct details, towered over the lamp post. Its face seemed to blur as it stared.
Phillip looked ahead and skidded to a stop. Where the path had just been now stood a massive stone monolith. Am I losing my mind? He could feel panic start to bubble up in the back of his mind. Confused, he moved around the obstacle and continued down the path. Something was deeply wrong tonight. He had to get home.
Following the path around a curve, he saw the exit. He sped up, trying to get out of this cursed park as quickly as possible. He couldn't look away—couldn't blink lest space might again warp around him.
The path stretched and narrowed in front of him pulling his exit further and further. He ran now, ankle be damned, feet slamming against the path and propelling him forward. Benches occupied the entire width fo the path, forcing him to dodge to the side several times.
At last, he passed through the steel gate. He held his hands to his eyes in an attempt to quell his splitting headache as much as to push the panic back. When he uncovered he saw that he no longer stood in the street, but back to his starting point under the dim lamplight at the foot of the stairs.
More beings crept from the darkness around him, at first crawling before rising to look down at him. They made no sound, their ominous faces giving off a dominating aura. They moved slowly toward him.
Frozen, Phillip screamed at his body to move, to do anything but stand in their presence. He willed his feet to turn and fled up the stairs two at a time. His ankle pulsed in agony. He stepped back into the safety of the light, again solid and brilliant. Trying to catch his breath he leaned, putting his hands on his knees to steady himself. A glance through the dark tunnel revealed what he had hoped. He had not been followed, he was alone.
WC640
From a rough first draft, the edit came through and fixed a lot of problems. Editing really is magic! Feedback welcome :)
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u/lynx_elia Jul 25 '20
I feel like this started strong, then a few issues with commas threw the flow for me. I’d have a look at the concussion sentence, too - probably should say ‘worse than I had hoped’, or ‘worse than I thought’. Otherwise, a clear and creepy story (what’s with those this week?!). Philip’s character came through well, I thought, and I really felt his pain and confusion!
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u/GammaGames Jul 26 '20
You're right, I forgot to do my comma pass! If I had left them in I might've been able to cross-post it for TT this week, but I did go back and tend them a bit. And thank you for the suggestion on the sentence, I completely rewrote that one during editing and couldn't find the best form and moved on.
Thank you for reading!
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u/only_one_i_know Jul 24 '20
The Goo
“Pull it open!!!” I could hear them shouting orders, attempting to coordinate their efforts. I had no idea who they were and I wanted to help them, but the slime had completely immobilized me. It was dark, and getting darker. The good news was, I felt no pain. I felt nothing for that matter. The limpid goo must have commandeered my nervous system.
How long have I been in here? It seemed only moments ago I was investigating reports of a missing dog. Of all the cases I’ve worked on over the years, how does a missing family pet lead to my demise? I can’t recall. It’s all getting fuzzy.
The goo. I remember seeing the goo. It was in a small puddle in the middle of the trail. I thought it was water, but it doesn’t rain here. Why was I there again? Oh right, Mittsy. The Spencers’ dog. She had been missing for a few weeks. Or was it days? Hours?
The goo. It smelled like flowers. I found her collar. It was wet. Mittsy the Pomeranian. How did it get so wet? It doesn’t rain here. Sometimes it rains. Doesn’t it?
The goo. I remember touching the goo. It was dripping out of a flower. The blooms were gorgeous. The smell, exotic. Have I seen them before? Maybe it’s just déjà vu. Déjà visité. I’ve been here before. But I couldn’t have. I’ve never drowned before. Have I?
The goo.
So this is how I die. The goo.
Swallowed whole. By a flower.
The goo.
________________________________
WC: 258
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u/lynx_elia Jul 25 '20
This was really good. I liked the repeated, visceral ‘goo’. The short sentences of remembrance and confusion were effective in emotion and in moving the story forward quickly. <shudders> Goo.
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u/turnipofficer Jul 22 '20
I had made it, finally to this strange land that had tormented me for so long. Always just out of reach, teasing me with messages designed to set me off course.
However I had triumphed. Before me lay a vast desert, yet cavernous walls to my back bode me some modicum of shelter. The skies above showed two suns peering through gaps in a hexagonal lattice. As the lattice obambulated across the sky the temperature dipped as an opaque hexagon blocked out the larger of the two orbs.
The sound of running water emerged from behind me and a torrent poured down over my head. Limpid water formed in pools around my feet, and life grew a-new. Plants shot up with the flowing water, bright and verdant. Roots buried the sands beneath their girth, suckling at the bounty that had been provided. The blooms were gorgeous, spanning from the cliffside to as far as I could see. This world had to be the pinnacle of evolution, life perfectly adapted to its environment, even if it clearly had artificial help.
I stood amongst the dampness of this exotic locale and pondered this perfection. Is this how it is? Do all the flora and fauna find their niche here? Or do predators await me, so evolved as to make me look like a mere ant?
If life out here has to hide until they are under a single sun, I posited that there must be more permanent residence inside the caves.
They were warm, but largely barren apart from a few fungal blooms. It took hours before I finally stumbled across something interesting. A flickering orange-white light drew me down a corridor. Before me was a ginormous orange gelatinous mass. It was cloudy in opacity, veins of electricity periodically pulsed through the structure.
It made no attempt to move, nor did it make much sound, it was eerie and quiet. It encompassed the rest of the hallway and much of the walls. I sat with it for a while, if this was living, perhaps it needed time to study me, to evaluate if I was a threat.
After an hour it was clear I would need a closer evaluation. I walked up to the mass and took out a pair of wooden tools from my pack. I attempted to slice at the mass. However try as I might, I could not separate a sample from the mass, it would bounce and shift from my implements, frustrating me to no end. I tried isolating the extremes of it - the parts clinging to the side walls, only to fail again and again. My anger built to a crescendo. “What are you!” I yelled.
I swang a fist at the mass, full well expecting the mass to bounce back and send ripples through its structure.
My fist got stuck. It got stuck.
Panic built as I attempted to free myself, yet somehow this mass that I expected to be slippery had developed adhesion I could not break from. The electric currents flowed into my clenched fist. It did not hurt nor burn, it tickled at me. The creature had clearly decided to keep me, its mass unfurled from the walls and instead encapsulated me completely.
I gasped for air, but there was none, this gelatinous semi-fluid filled my every pore and orifice, yet I still clung to life, somehow.
I joined with it, I could feel all of it, it spanned the entire planet, filling vast caverns beneath the surface. Emerging out into ancient, abandoned cities and so much wonder and mystery. For a moment I felt perfect clarity and contentment. I could see so much, through not just space, but also time.
I could also feel myself being consumed by it, my flesh was no longer required, it had my mind. Frantically I searched for a way out, a way to free myself. However then it dawned upon me.
Deja-Visite.
I had been here before. I could see through time, see myself in my lab. See myself working on the very means to get here. I could also see that sample climb inside my pores all those months ago, something I didn’t even realise had happened.
I reached out, tried to dissuade myself from my path, to communicate that it is a bad idea. Yet still I watched as I pushed my friends, family and colleagues away. I infiltrated my dreams, tried to break my spirit, do anything to give up on my calling, to make the weight too great to go on.
Yet I already know it didn’t work. It was always me, linked through a cosmic gestalt entity. All I could hope now was to still exist in some form. Immortality, but not as anyone would have asked for.
((WC:797))
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u/Tempest-Hawks Jul 22 '20
(755 words) So I guess I am somwhat of a nimble lass, yet I had no erudite words for the gigglemug who just tore down the hangings on the stall of the changing room I was in. Nimble? How can one be nimble wearing a full corset, high heels and only wearing bloomers? The man certainly got an eyefull. And me never expecting this sudden attack had no idea how to act. After all, No man had ever been so insolent towards my person. Also, I could barely stand or breathe in this torturedevice. The man froze a second before stammering and trying to hang and hold up the curtain at the same time. No nimbleness there atleast. I solved the situation by taking the curtain from him and holding it up infront of myself. The unnimble owner of the shop was already there, apologizing profusely and telling me she «certainly told the mister there was a lady in the stall, I had no idea who they where! How dare he affront this daaarling girl and how was that corset? Did it need more tightening?» I could hardly be my nimble self for the lack of breathing and looked the man over.
Jackpot.
The infamous and exotic ensnarer, Julio «The Trick» Hernandez. He had an eye for the ladies, and in particular for their money. He had duped many a young lady of not only her cash, but also her virtue. One of his latest victims was my dearest friend in all this world, and as a buxom young lady there was only one thing to do. The Latino had an eye and a modus operandi. I remembered all my friend had told me as a deja visité. He would affront the lady in a compromising position, apologize profusely and invite her out to apologize. Winning her over and stealing her heart, her purse and her flower. And here he was. He eyed me expertly, and noted the fine material in my selection. Aswell as the swell of my hips and the aparent creaking of the corsetry near my upper region. He hid his calculating smile and fell into a limpid character. So extremely sorry was he. He had thought I was his sister who had ran away with his rent money and how could he ever apologize enough?
I was ofcourse easy to console. Letting my eyes oambulate around his fine features and his eyes like limpid pools of golden honey. Yes, this man was gorgeous, but he was also a thief, a dupe and a lier. I was vapid, gigglemug to the nines. I was headless, thoughtless and very obviously taken my his presence. I thought I might have overplayed my character a smidge, but he seems to have belived me. So I was ofcourse honoured to accept his invitation to dinner, and I was surely gonna see him at the Ritz at 7?
Once he left, I got into battlegear. Out of that silly contraption and into something a little more sensible, but very expensive. I had exotic and expensive shoes to fill if I would keep the atention of The trick.
Later that evening I slid into the Ritz like a dream in red rubies. Dressed to the nines, and as revealing as a still decent woman possibly could. I must admit I looked rather fetching. And I knew it when he saw me and didnt even notice the policemen gathering on the next two tables. They where way worse at disguising than I was. But I had my girls, and they even take my breath away at times. So he was riveted. I presented myself as the daughter of a duke and plied him generously with champagne. With such a prize infront on him he kept talking. Revealing way to much. About other ladies that just wherent my equal and how they had all fawned upon him. But no one was good enough, until he met me. The officer on the next table wrote it all down. Names, dates, amounts. At the end of the meal, I leaned over and asked what he wished to do with me if he had me alone in that shop. Placing my hand suggestively on his leg. And the man told me. Brazenly. I mean. It was his own fault. And I dont know how that heel got implanted that well into his nether regions. He will probably walk again, if never father children. Not that he can, where he is going.
I simply hate heels.
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u/wordsonthewind Jul 26 '20
I swallowed and wiped my mouth with still-dripping hands that were cold as ice.
"Be still."
The voice came from somewhere behind me. If ice was a sound, if absolute zero was an emotion, this voice was it.
I had no idea who they were. I had no idea where I was. My reflection gazed up at me, dazed and wide-eyed, from the limpid waters of a river. Behind it was nobody.
"You are not the first traveler to obambulate to this realm."
Snow fell from a bleak gray sky, tiny perfect flakes forming great dunes as far as the eye could see. Icy winds whipped around me, but their chill remained at my skin. They couldn't cut through me like winds of that strength should have done.
Because, I slowly realized, there was a deeper cold in me that no winter could hope to match.
Flowers grew around the banks of the river. The blooms were gorgeous. Their petals were a blue so pale they almost blended into the snow-covered ground. I knew, looking at them, that they outlined the path to a magnificent palace somewhere in this frozen landscape.
I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Exotic though it was, the entire place had an aura of deja-visite.
"Come to my palace," the voice said, still at absolute zero*. "I know why you drank from the river. I know the reason for the weariness you feel, deep in your bones. Come to me. I will make you whole again."*
Something in me stirred at that. I could no longer believe in warmth... but maybe I could find a chill to outfreeze the cold in my heart, to bury the pain I could no longer quite remember beneath layers of unmelting ice.
The flowers crunched beneath my feet. I kicked the remnants of their petals aside, and they scattered like so many shards of ice.