Also: this reminded me that I'd totally forgot about the yearlong prompt. I'll have a look at November and see what I can do to try to wrap things up... maybe on Sunday?
Mine
The town of Crimson Falls had been established at the foot of Preacher Mountain in the middle of the previous century. With a population that rarely surpassed one thousand permanent residents, life was a peaceful struggle against the elements.
The perimeter of the town was protected by a wooden fence that was irregularly maintained and patrolled on a schedule that could best be described as whenever someone felt like doing it.
Buildings were functional and plain, as there was little taste for ostentatiousness and even less resources to spare on any frivolities. Visitors were rare, with only a handful choosing to remain.
Days, weeks, months, years passed without incident. The people were content in their chosen isolation. Some younglings decided to leave, desiring to see the world beyond their rickety walls. Most returned within a year with no interest in leaving again..
But then a new family moved into Crimson Falls. A father, a mother, and their teenaged son. They kept to themselves, at first, and the townsfolk were happy to leave them be.
I did wonder how you were going to handle continuation prompts! If you want to put up the yearlong prompt and have us go first on that too I think we can probably handle it. Though... that will leave you (this time round) with the task of finishing the tale :) Well, I've got a lot of questions about Crimson Falls from reading this, so well done on picking an intriguing setting. Given you mentioned the yearlong prompt, is this going to be next year's setting? I could definitely get behind that! This seems like a nice place, but that last line suggests that maybe it shouldn't be...?
Continued... Crimson Falls had been abuzz with conversation all day and most of the people who lived there were looking tired from it, and a little stressed. Normal conversational levels didn't go much further than casual greetings on the street, and maybe a chat in the butcher's or the grocery store. The town's two bars saw more conversations, but more often than not they were interrupted by the sports on the big-screen television or American Idol. Sustained conversations like this were unusual. All of the people agreed that it was necessary though: Roy Moore had announced that he would be stumping in Crimson Falls ahead of the December Election and he was due to stand in front of City Hall at 5pm and address the crowd. "What crowd?" sniffed a middle-aged woman with two small children in tow. "The Political Science class graduated four students last year, and none the year before." "Maybe he's coming looking for a date," muttered the woman behind her and everyone pretended not to have heard. "Well, I think he's part of what will make America great again," said a voice that many people didn't recognise. When they looked round they didn't recognise the speaker either. "Who are you?" asked Arthur, who had buried his grand-parents, parents and two sons in the Crimson Falls churchyard and liked to think of himself as a patriarch. "Anna," said the woman. "We moved here three months ago. And, might I add, I think it's very rude that none of you have come to call." There was no reply for several minutes, though several people seemingly decided at random that they had no business in this shop and left. Finally Arthur spoke again. "Can't say as I know you to call on you," he said. "But I'll bear in mind as an invitation has been extended. For my mind though, I'd say this bit of America's pretty great already and I don't see what some politician is going to do to change that." "Idiot!" said Anna. She drew herself up to her full 5 feet and 6 inches. "Roy Moore -- Senator Moore, because I know he's going to win -- will revitalise Crimson Falls. You know that the Falls themselves are crimson because the rocks round here are loaded with cinnabar. Roy Moore will bring in the mining corporations and dig it right out of the ground. There'll be people, jobs, and a higher standard of living. We'll have our own bank, nightclubs and boutiques. It'll be like living in New York only far, far more exclusive." You could have heard a cricket cough in the silence that followed.
Then a little voice piped up, "Why'd you move here if you don't like it much?"
Anna turned as red as the rocks outside and stammered, "I..I..I like it here just fine. We moved here ..." and then more quietly as her eyes filled with tears, "we moved here 'cause we ain't got anywhere else to go."
Greg - we'll see what happens after I give the yearlong some thought. Thank you for the offer though :)
Nah, I'd no intention of using this setting for a yearlong prompt. It's not my turn next year anyway!
Hah, well this wasn't where I was expecting things to go but you managed it so wonderfully that I'm glad you took it in this direction. That ending is great - the silence, as they say, speaks volumes.
Morganna - a finely tuned, brief and to the point continuation. Almost seems a shame to leave it here. Might have to do something about that.
4 comments:
Also: this reminded me that I'd totally forgot about the yearlong prompt. I'll have a look at November and see what I can do to try to wrap things up... maybe on Sunday?
Mine
The town of Crimson Falls had been established at the foot of Preacher Mountain in the middle of the previous century. With a population that rarely surpassed one thousand permanent residents, life was a peaceful struggle against the elements.
The perimeter of the town was protected by a wooden fence that was irregularly maintained and patrolled on a schedule that could best be described as whenever someone felt like doing it.
Buildings were functional and plain, as there was little taste for ostentatiousness and even less resources to spare on any frivolities. Visitors were rare, with only a handful choosing to remain.
Days, weeks, months, years passed without incident. The people were content in their chosen isolation. Some younglings decided to leave, desiring to see the world beyond their rickety walls. Most returned within a year with no interest in leaving again..
But then a new family moved into Crimson Falls. A father, a mother, and their teenaged son. They kept to themselves, at first, and the townsfolk were happy to leave them be.
Until the night that changed everything.
I did wonder how you were going to handle continuation prompts! If you want to put up the yearlong prompt and have us go first on that too I think we can probably handle it. Though... that will leave you (this time round) with the task of finishing the tale :)
Well, I've got a lot of questions about Crimson Falls from reading this, so well done on picking an intriguing setting. Given you mentioned the yearlong prompt, is this going to be next year's setting? I could definitely get behind that! This seems like a nice place, but that last line suggests that maybe it shouldn't be...?
Continued...
Crimson Falls had been abuzz with conversation all day and most of the people who lived there were looking tired from it, and a little stressed. Normal conversational levels didn't go much further than casual greetings on the street, and maybe a chat in the butcher's or the grocery store. The town's two bars saw more conversations, but more often than not they were interrupted by the sports on the big-screen television or American Idol. Sustained conversations like this were unusual. All of the people agreed that it was necessary though: Roy Moore had announced that he would be stumping in Crimson Falls ahead of the December Election and he was due to stand in front of City Hall at 5pm and address the crowd.
"What crowd?" sniffed a middle-aged woman with two small children in tow. "The Political Science class graduated four students last year, and none the year before."
"Maybe he's coming looking for a date," muttered the woman behind her and everyone pretended not to have heard.
"Well, I think he's part of what will make America great again," said a voice that many people didn't recognise. When they looked round they didn't recognise the speaker either.
"Who are you?" asked Arthur, who had buried his grand-parents, parents and two sons in the Crimson Falls churchyard and liked to think of himself as a patriarch.
"Anna," said the woman. "We moved here three months ago. And, might I add, I think it's very rude that none of you have come to call."
There was no reply for several minutes, though several people seemingly decided at random that they had no business in this shop and left. Finally Arthur spoke again.
"Can't say as I know you to call on you," he said. "But I'll bear in mind as an invitation has been extended. For my mind though, I'd say this bit of America's pretty great already and I don't see what some politician is going to do to change that."
"Idiot!" said Anna. She drew herself up to her full 5 feet and 6 inches. "Roy Moore -- Senator Moore, because I know he's going to win -- will revitalise Crimson Falls. You know that the Falls themselves are crimson because the rocks round here are loaded with cinnabar. Roy Moore will bring in the mining corporations and dig it right out of the ground. There'll be people, jobs, and a higher standard of living. We'll have our own bank, nightclubs and boutiques. It'll be like living in New York only far, far more exclusive."
You could have heard a cricket cough in the silence that followed.
Then a little voice piped up, "Why'd you move here if you don't like it much?"
Anna turned as red as the rocks outside and stammered, "I..I..I like it here just fine. We moved here ..." and then more quietly as her eyes filled with tears, "we moved here 'cause we ain't got anywhere else to go."
Greg - we'll see what happens after I give the yearlong some thought. Thank you for the offer though :)
Nah, I'd no intention of using this setting for a yearlong prompt. It's not my turn next year anyway!
Hah, well this wasn't where I was expecting things to go but you managed it so wonderfully that I'm glad you took it in this direction. That ending is great - the silence, as they say, speaks volumes.
Morganna - a finely tuned, brief and to the point continuation. Almost seems a shame to leave it here. Might have to do something about that.
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