The exercise:
Well, this is embarrassing. Apparently I've only used this prompt once, way back in November of 2017. The embarrassing part being my intention to make it a somewhat regular prompt and, obviously, failing utterly in that regard.
But allow me to begin to make amends by taking this opportunity to present you with another opening scenario for you to take where you wish:
The Grey Woods were a magical place. This was no secret. All of the villagers understood the power of the place; some even dared to use it to their own advantage. Most, however, preferred to let the Woods be, hoping that the Woods would in turn ignore their existence.
Visitors to the village were warned, in no uncertain terms, to stay well clear of the Woods. Though some had more questions than others, and some had images of secret, hidden treasures swirling in their imaginations, all heeded the warnings.
Well, almost all.
2 comments:
Hmm, definitely an interesting idea, and a nice prompt. I wonder what you were expecting from me?
The Grey Woods
Lars Magnusson stood outside the village inn, fancifully named The Elfin Queene, smoking a cigar. He was slim, tall, starting to go grey where he wasn't going bald, and wore a pin-striped suit that made him stand out from the villagers like a sore thumb. He ignored the picturesque cobbled streets, the horse and cart waiting patiently at the side of the road for a tourist to purchase a ride around the town, and the cluster of villagers at the bus-stop across the road, none of whom had gotten on any of the last three buses. Instead he stared across a lush green meadow to where the Grey Woods began and three bulldozers sat waiting.
He had a government contract, a copy of which was in his car which was parked in the car-park of the inn. It was quite clear what the terms of the contract were: to bulldoze one third of the Grey Woods and dispose of the timber, which had apparently been assessed as diseased, rotten and unfit for use, and then leave the land for a construction company to do something else with. All fairly normal, though he disagreed with the assessment of the timber and was planning on selling that on quietly rather than burning it all. The contract wasn't too precise on how it was to be disposed of, so it would be a grey area if it came to courts and lawyers. But there was a paragraph at the end that was a little unusual, and the sole reason for him standing out here now. There it stated that unless otherwise instructed the work was to start at 13:15 exactly and, under no circumstances, any earlier.
He checked his watch: a Philippe Patek that he told people he'd inherited from his great-grandfather. In actual fact he'd taken it from the wrist of a guy he'd beaten half to death in Thailand in an illegal boxing match and he wore it ever since to remind himself that life hadn't always been fast cars and women, and good food and drink. It was just before noon and he found himself wondering about the specificity of the time the work could start.
He also found himself startled to suddenly see two people emerge from the Grey Woods not far from the bulldozers. They looked around, appeared to see him, and started across the meadow towards him. He dropped his cigar to the ground and scuffed it with his shoe to make sure it was extinguished, and waited. Perhaps this was a go/no-go situation after all, though he had no idea what might have changed the government's mind. As the people drew closer though, he squinted, trying to see them better. Oddly, they didn't look entirely human.
Greg - I know better by now. I wasn't expecting anything. Other than good writing, obviously.
Ooh, well done. The description and background details for Lars are fantastic. And that ending is a delightful cliff hanger.
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