Daily writing prompts from June 9th, 2008 to December 31st, 2022
Sunday June 28th, 2020
The exercise:
Write about: the cabin.
We're off to the mountains for a couple nights for a much needed getaway. I've scheduled this post and one for tomorrow as well. I'll be back with pictures on Tuesday.
That sounds like fun! I shall enjoy seeing the photos :) And seeing the prompts.... ;-)
The cabin "Crinkly," said Ben, standing beside me, and I found myself agreeing: the ground looked like someone had picked it up in a giant hand and scrunched and then set it back down again. "Cold," I replied though, as the wind seemed to be getting stronger and it was definitely cold now. Seeing the snow on the peaks below didn't do anything to help either. "We got anything to ea--" said Ben for probably the thirtieth time. "No, still no. Not unless you want to try eating the basket," I said. I looked at him. "Don't try eating the basket, Ben." "Not till we've landed, then," he said, and winked at me. "Another hand of poker?"
We woke up the next morning within moments of each other. Ben's a slow riser; he takes his time and thinks about waking up while he's still walking around and drinking coffee; I tend to bounce out of bed and rush about getting the coffee made. So waking up at the same time was unusual, and that made me worry. I stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, and felt the floor of the basket give way just a little; just enough to let me know it was still getting weaker. As soon as my head was above the level of the basket I felt the stream of air like I'd put my head out of the window of a train. We were moving fast. and when I looked up the balloon looked like it was straining ahead of us, trying to pull away from the basket. When I looked down I saw that the mountains were giving way to flatter land, and there was what might be mining activity just below, or just a handful of cabins. Silvery lines marked out river flow, and there were thin dark lines not far off that might be smoke. "We should land," I said. "There's signs of life down there, and... I dunno where the wind wants to take us so fast, but people hurrying us up has never been a good sign." "True that," said Ben. "No good ever came of a posse on your tail. Fine, let's see how this works then." He started adjusting the burner, and the flame disappeared. "Well, that's no good." I chuckled, and the laughter trailed away as Ben didn't join in. "Ben?" He tapped the burner thoughtfully. "I think it might be empty, Red." That's the problem with magic boxes that make things go: they run out and don't give you any warning of it. With a horse, you know if you've not fed it lately, or it's feeling sick, or it's broken a leg. With a train you can mostly see if you need to feed it coal, and if there's no coal you can maybe shove some wood in there, or whatever burns. But with a balloon with a magic burner and a gas cylinder with no windows in it... it just stops when it feels like it. "That'll get us down then," I said. "But that means we've got no control over the speed, right?" Ben shrugged. "Maybe the wind will help us?" "Maybe the Sheriff of Boylestown will forgive you if we ever go back there, and his daughter will be a virgin again."
"She... she was pretty. I got no regrets there, Red." Ben shook the burner and the gas cylinder, and opined as how there might be some gas left in there, but he'd not try and turn it back on until we were lower. He did light a cigar though, and eyed the ropes thoughtfully. "Leave them," I said. "The wind'll pull you out of the balloon if you lean too far over." Which was true, we'd both already taken our hats off having nearly lost them to the icy whistle about our heads. The balloon sank, more slowly than it headed East and gradually the ground got clearer and clearer. The wind's strength dropped as we did, which was a relief; I was able to put my hat back on and keep my ears a tad warmer. Then Ben started playing with the burner, and after a few tries managed to get it going again, but the sides of the bag of the balloon were already starting to push inwards as the air inside cooled too much. I looked down; we'd passed over what might be a mine; there was a lot of orange splashed around it, and the ground was largely scrub. There were a couple more cabins dotted about, but they stayed away from the orange splashes. It was flat enough for an emergency landing that we might walk away from. The basket bumped the ground and bounced back up, and before we could steady ourselves the bottom ripped out of the basket altogether and we dropped through while the balloon, lightened from our weight, soared up.
Greg - well you didn't seem to care for the moose prompt :P
I wake up like Ben, just so we're clear on where my allegiances just shifted to. Also: that paragraph about the magic box and how it suddenly stopped working is one of my favorites so far.
And... that's a hell of a landing. And a hell of a way to loose a balloon. Probably no good left in it anyway. Which sounds about right for Red and Ben - use a thing until there's no use left in it, then move on to the next thing.
3 comments:
That sounds like fun! I shall enjoy seeing the photos :) And seeing the prompts.... ;-)
The cabin
"Crinkly," said Ben, standing beside me, and I found myself agreeing: the ground looked like someone had picked it up in a giant hand and scrunched and then set it back down again.
"Cold," I replied though, as the wind seemed to be getting stronger and it was definitely cold now. Seeing the snow on the peaks below didn't do anything to help either.
"We got anything to ea--" said Ben for probably the thirtieth time.
"No, still no. Not unless you want to try eating the basket," I said. I looked at him. "Don't try eating the basket, Ben."
"Not till we've landed, then," he said, and winked at me. "Another hand of poker?"
We woke up the next morning within moments of each other. Ben's a slow riser; he takes his time and thinks about waking up while he's still walking around and drinking coffee; I tend to bounce out of bed and rush about getting the coffee made. So waking up at the same time was unusual, and that made me worry. I stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, and felt the floor of the basket give way just a little; just enough to let me know it was still getting weaker. As soon as my head was above the level of the basket I felt the stream of air like I'd put my head out of the window of a train. We were moving fast. and when I looked up the balloon looked like it was straining ahead of us, trying to pull away from the basket. When I looked down I saw that the mountains were giving way to flatter land, and there was what might be mining activity just below, or just a handful of cabins. Silvery lines marked out river flow, and there were thin dark lines not far off that might be smoke.
"We should land," I said. "There's signs of life down there, and... I dunno where the wind wants to take us so fast, but people hurrying us up has never been a good sign."
"True that," said Ben. "No good ever came of a posse on your tail. Fine, let's see how this works then." He started adjusting the burner, and the flame disappeared. "Well, that's no good."
I chuckled, and the laughter trailed away as Ben didn't join in. "Ben?"
He tapped the burner thoughtfully. "I think it might be empty, Red."
That's the problem with magic boxes that make things go: they run out and don't give you any warning of it. With a horse, you know if you've not fed it lately, or it's feeling sick, or it's broken a leg. With a train you can mostly see if you need to feed it coal, and if there's no coal you can maybe shove some wood in there, or whatever burns. But with a balloon with a magic burner and a gas cylinder with no windows in it... it just stops when it feels like it.
"That'll get us down then," I said. "But that means we've got no control over the speed, right?"
Ben shrugged. "Maybe the wind will help us?"
"Maybe the Sheriff of Boylestown will forgive you if we ever go back there, and his daughter will be a virgin again."
"She... she was pretty. I got no regrets there, Red." Ben shook the burner and the gas cylinder, and opined as how there might be some gas left in there, but he'd not try and turn it back on until we were lower. He did light a cigar though, and eyed the ropes thoughtfully.
"Leave them," I said. "The wind'll pull you out of the balloon if you lean too far over." Which was true, we'd both already taken our hats off having nearly lost them to the icy whistle about our heads. The balloon sank, more slowly than it headed East and gradually the ground got clearer and clearer. The wind's strength dropped as we did, which was a relief; I was able to put my hat back on and keep my ears a tad warmer. Then Ben started playing with the burner, and after a few tries managed to get it going again, but the sides of the bag of the balloon were already starting to push inwards as the air inside cooled too much. I looked down; we'd passed over what might be a mine; there was a lot of orange splashed around it, and the ground was largely scrub. There were a couple more cabins dotted about, but they stayed away from the orange splashes. It was flat enough for an emergency landing that we might walk away from.
The basket bumped the ground and bounced back up, and before we could steady ourselves the bottom ripped out of the basket altogether and we dropped through while the balloon, lightened from our weight, soared up.
Greg - well you didn't seem to care for the moose prompt :P
I wake up like Ben, just so we're clear on where my allegiances just shifted to. Also: that paragraph about the magic box and how it suddenly stopped working is one of my favorites so far.
And... that's a hell of a landing. And a hell of a way to loose a balloon. Probably no good left in it anyway. Which sounds about right for Red and Ben - use a thing until there's no use left in it, then move on to the next thing.
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