Wednesday July 10th, 2013

The exercise:

Write about an: emergence.

Had a big harvest of greens for the restaurant this morning that needed to be delivered before lunch (actually, they wanted them yesterday but we were way too busy with the boxes). I dislike picking with a deadline like that.

Anyway, I got it done on time. This evening we had another go at picnicking at Haynes Point (with Kat's parents and her brother's family) and it actually worked this time. Though the wind did pick up pretty strongly just as we were finishing dessert - Max's hat got blown away and if it hadn't been for a perfectly placed tree it probably would have ended up in the water on the other side of the point.

We stuffed Max into a swim diaper and let him play in the water for a little while and he seemed to really enjoy it. For a bit, at least. And then he very definitely had had enough.


The fog lay heavy and thick on the hills above our village that morning, causing the once sturdy trees on their slopes to appear to float. As the sun rose higher in the sky we expected the mists to dissipate, allowing our landscape to return to its normal state.

But it was not so easily dismissed. It clung to the earth with a ferocious grip, remaining steadfast even as the noon hour came and went.

All eyes and conversation were focused on this odd phenomenon. Many theories were put forth as to its origin, meaning, and purpose. All were summarily tossed aside. Some of us thought that armed men should be posted to keep watch, to ensure that evil forces were not at work. They were shouted down by those in the village who thought that to be childish nonsense.

I must admit, to my great regret, that I was among those doing the shouting.

For as dusk gathered around us that night, the creatures which emerged from the fog to descend upon our unguarded homes were undeniably evil.


Anonymous said...

I don't think anyone likes tight deadlines, but I guess with produce they're a bit tighter than with spreadsheets :) Glad you were able to get it all done though!
And the picnic sounds nice; I imagine watching Max bob around in the water was quite amusing!
That's a sinister little piece, inspired by the wind rising again at Hayes Point? I rather like the matter-of-factness of the third paragraph in particular.

It had been thirteen days, she'd scratched lines into the one wooden wall to keep track. The sun had provided a thin line across the top of the door when it rose, and when it faded away again she assumed it was night. There had been no food, no water.
She'd nearly died, she was sure of that. She'd been lying on the floor, feeling dizzy, her tongue feeling like it was swollen to three times its normal size, and then she'd felt herself changing. She didn't know how, but there had been some hazy days when all she was sure she'd done was scratch the wall.
She stretched. Tight muscles were aching for release, desperate to work. There seemed to be more than she remembered having, but that had been thirteen days ago. A very long time. She shrugged her wings, leathery, constricted by the tight space. How long had she had them for? Probably forever, she decided.
She struck the wooden wall with force, and it splintered and broke outwards. It was time for an emergence.

Marc said...

Greg - thanks for the kind words on mine. And yeah, Max in the water was pretty great :)

Brilliant stuff. Love the perspective. I think the paragraph starting with 'She stretched.' was particularly great.