Thursday June 4th, 2020

The exercise:

Write about something that is: gleaming.

2 comments:

Greg said...

Ok, we're done, this is the last page in our little story. It comes in around 33k words, so it's probably novella length, and it's possible that there might be enough left over to return here at some point ;-)

The Gleaming
“What does that mean?” Collins shivered, though he tried to control it. For a moment he felt incredibly cold, as though he’d died and not noticed until now.
“I don’t really know,” said the ghost. “You can try asking William, or maybe find someone who used to be a Radiant priest and see if they’ll tell you. I know there were Radiants and there were the Gleaming, but I never found out what that meant.”
“That doesn’t seem likely.” Collins hugged Timothy and scratched his flanks, which the dog clearly loved. He wiggled, and then licked Collins’s face with a warm pink tongue, and the chill passed. “I mean, we arrested William.”
“You also probably saved his life,” said the ghost. “Tony would probably have left him to bleed to death and William knows that. But… it might all depend on what Radiant means, how important to them it is.”
“Should I worry about it?”
“I wouldn’t go telling people about it,” said the ghost. “Let’s get back before the Inspectral starts looking for you. He’s coming along the tunnel now. And I wouldn’t show it off as a party trick.”
“So what do I do then?”
“Learn about it,” said the ghost. He shrugged, leading the way out of the closest side of the hangar. “Same as most things that change unexpectedly in life. Learn about it, study it, and work out what advantages it brings you.”
They were half-way back to the van when a new question struck Collins. He glanced sideways at the ghost, who looked as though he were concentrating.
“Who are you?” asked Collins. “I really appreciate all your help, but I don’t even know your name.”
“Inspectral is above ground,” said the ghost, pointing, and Collins saw the Inspectral rise up from the access hatch, float above the ground for a few seconds, then settle back to the level of the grass. “You can call me Jack, son, it’s what the lads in my patrols called me. Sergeant Jack.”
“Collins.” The Inspectral’s voice carried clearly across the airfield. “Good, you’ve found Timothy. Get him and yourself in the van now; we’re strapping Tony to the roof and then we’re going back.”
“Strapping him to the roof?”
The ghost next to him laughed. “You want to sit next to a dead body on the way back, son?”

Marc said...

Greg - 33k hardly qualifies as a 'little story' :P

And yes, I see you've left some areas to explore. I think that I would quite enjoy revisiting Collins at some point, as he figures out what the exposure to the device has done to him... and for him, perhaps. Lots of possibilities there, clearly.

Thank you for this tale. As mentioned many times, I found it highly enjoyable. It's an interesting world to play in and tell stories in, that's for sure.

As for what's next... any interest in a How the Best Was Won tale? Or perhaps... ugh, I'm going to get this wrong, it's been so long... that league of villains, what did you call them again? The Council of Nastiness or something similar? I can embarrass myself further with more vaguely recalled details if you don't know what I'm talking about.