Friday February 26th, 2016

The exercise:

Write four lines of prose about something that takes place: at the break of dawn.

I, um, may be getting caught up in whatever it was that I started yesterday.

With Kat's parents still feeling ill, I had Max this afternoon. We ran a few errands in town together and then we came back to the farm to pick up Natalie so that they could play together at the park.

It was such a warm, sunny day that there were plenty of kids already there when we arrived. I had the car window rolled down on the way there and was just wearing a light long-sleeve and jeans until the sun decided to hide behind some clouds around 4 o'clock.

Spring, spring, spring, springity spring...

Mine:

The first rays of sunshine wake me to the start of a new day. It takes a few moments to realize that I am curled into a ball on hard-packed earth.

I ease into a sitting position, noting at least four severe injuries that I can't recall incurring, and find myself staring at the blackened wreck of my airship less than a hundred feet away.

Within an hour I know that there are no other survivors, my left wrist is broken, and that I am, undeniably, stranded somewhere in the Wastelands.

2 Comments:

Greg said...

Sounds like you had a nice day, though your enthusiasm for Spring this early in the year is worrying :-P I suppose I'm jaded by the worry that since it feels like Summer here I'm going to die shortly when you're enthusing over the growing season being well under way!
Well, I'm delighted that you're continuing your steampunk prompt a little further and am kind of hopeful we're going to have an impromptu Steampunk week. And I am intrigued, I really want to know what's just happened -- how has the airship being ruined like this by those opponents we know nothing about? I am a little disappointed that the Lady Captain didn't survive though.
And since it would be churlish for me not to continue in the same vein....

At the break of dawn
It turns out our host's name was Florian -- it was sewn in hand-embroidered labels in his shirt -- but he and his shirt are now burning merrily some distance from the winery itself. Cecily is looking pleased with herself and her good mood is proving infectious: the urchins (is there a better name for these rat-like children?) are rushing around to do things for her as fast as they can. I am tasked with sorting through our new living space and getting rid of things that aren't necessary... they will all end up on the funeral pyre burning to celebrate the light of a new day.
But some of these gadgets, their polished chrome and burnished steel shimmering in dawnlight, have made me pause and wonder even more if we really know what we are doing here.

Marc said...

Greg - yeah, I've still left a lot of unanswered questions with this one. Hmm... might need to do another handful of posts to clear things up!

That is quite the takeover these two have orchestrated. Or was it mostly Cecily's doing?

Regardless, fascinating stuff. So pleased you continued on with yours as well :)