The exercise:
Four lines of prose about: reflections.
Laptop might have died this afternoon. If you're reading this then it still hasn't been fixed - I'm scheduling this post from the library.
Fingers crossed it isn't an expensive or prolonged problem.
Mine:
The water is as still as a grave, reflecting the storm brewing overhead as though it were a liquid hand mirror. A man sits on the grassy shore, knees drawn up to his chest, his unfocused gaze on the pond.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, louder and more threatening than the previous grumbled warning.
And the man thinks, It won't be long now.
Here's hoping it's an easy-to-fix problem! I know that they're hardly essential items, but to modern Western life they almost feel like it. I wonder how much longer it will be before they're regarded as a commodity and people will get funny looks for saying they don't own one?
ReplyDeleteThe description of the water is beautiful, and the sense of expectation with the storm is nicely done. So many questions left unanswered, as always!
Reflections
Mirrors can trap the unwary soul, and this is why they're covered after a person dies until the funeral is over and the soul safely ushered on to the next world. No-one wants to look in the mirror at a wake and see the dead person, caught in the mirror, looking at them over their shoulder. Of course, it only gets worse when the dead person appears to be trying to talk to them. And worse still when the person looking in the mirror can feel a cold hand resting on their shoulder....
She looked excitedly at the cover of her book, newly published - she'd waited two years for this day to happen.
ReplyDeleteIt featured the painting of a man gazing at his reflection in a stone fountain of still water where he might mull over the reality of his being, but Medusa's head stared back as a reminder of the treachery of too much analysis.
She'd hoped to make a difference in this world by what she had written - the title she chose included the word, Reflections, as if to make that point.
Alas, it failed to make much impact, and as she reflected on this apparent failure, she decided the world just wasn't ready for her brand of reflecting (and might ne'er be).
A different kind of "relection"
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“Mom what was my name going to be if I was a boy?” Megan asked while skimming through my book of 1000,001 Best Baby Names.
“Joshua Christopher.” I replied, “Make sure you put that book back on the shelf when you’re done, I use it a lot when I’m writing and don’t want to have to go hunting for it.”
“Okay! “ There was a long pause before she built up enough courage to ask her next question. ”What were the twin’s names going to be if they were boys?”
Turning away from my computer screen to look at her, I replied. “Sebastian Alexander and Erik Tristan, Why do you want to know?”
Megan smiled and buried her face inside the book before replying, “No reason.”
Greg - well, not having it would pose a whole lot of problems for the farm business, not to mention the updating of this blog. But I suppose if we absolutely had to we could have managed.
ReplyDeleteGlad you enjoyed mine :)
Yours was definitely chilling. Enjoyed the way you built it up throughout.
Writebite - ah, to get that far only to meet with disappointment. That's a scary one.
Morrigan - now there's an interesting question I've never thought to ask my parents. Hmm, now I'm wondering...
Jason looked himself in the mirror. The image he used to see was nowhere to be found. When Mary was with him, he’d see the reflection of a tall and proud man, with striking eyes and wonderful hair. Now, alone in front of the revealing glass, all he could see was the image of a miserable and fatigued man, nothing more than a shadow of what he once was. He finally understood what it meant to say that beauty comes from the inside, for the exterior of the body can only reflect what the soul feels within.
ReplyDeleteVicBlogger - great little character piece. You managed to convey a lot, not to mention got my imagination working on the rest of Jason's story :)
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