Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Short Story: A Reunion of Sorts


I've started taking a course on creative writing. While I may have only attended one session at the point of this post, I DID make an effort to compose my short story even though it wasn't compulsory.

This piece is now open to everyone who reads my blog for constructive feedback and criticism. I'm not going to make up excuses to defend myself from any criticism, but I would definitely like to know how you readers feel about it.

Disclaimer: The story below is purely fictional and is entirely written by me.

xoxo pamela

A Reunion of Sorts
The garden looked familiar. Yet, Alison could sense that this was no longer the same garden as the one in her own backyard. The apple trees that lined the gardens no longer bore any fruit, their apples now littered below the canopies, black with rot. The red roses that she admired everyday were gone too. In their place were roses with petals onyx black. Her beloved rose bushes now held an air of danger with their vines out of control, their thorns sharper than she’d ever seen them. 

Gone was the cool breeze that tickled her skin every time she stood in her garden. Instead, Alison was now greeted with stale, humid air that clung to her skin at every opportunity. The sweet aroma of her roses was now interlaced with those of the rotting apples, the smell making her stomach hurl. 

Where is this place? She thought, a frown marring her pale, flawless skin as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. 
 
‘She’s here!’ A whisper sounded in the bushes. 

‘Who’s there?’ Alison called out, her voice now laced with fear. It was one thing to be alone in this garden – if she could still call it that – but another to hear the voice of another in it with her. 

Instead of a reply, Alison found herself treated to the sound of music playing just behind the rose bushes. The sounds of a string quartet playing the most beautiful music filled the air, and yet, Alison could see no further than the rose bushes. 

Should I check it out? Alison questioned herself. Her growing curiosity of what she would find and the eerily beautiful tune of the violins made her shiver. She tried looking beyond the bushes once more, but all she met was the same pitch-black darkness. 

‘Come on Ali, you travelled through the portal. You’re afraid of nothing, remember?’ Alison murmured to herself, hoping this would bring her the courage she needed to step forth. After a few moments of hesitation, Alison started towards the darkness beyond the bushes. 

Just as she reached the gap between the black rose bushes, she found herself distracted by the sound of wings flapping, a sound that seemed to add to the beauty of the music the quartet still played.
‘Is that an eagle? Eagles aren’t supposed to be out at night...”Alison wondered, speaking more to herself than anybody else. 

‘That’s not an eagle, you foolish girl. That’s Master Luc.’ A snarky voice sounded beside her. 

Surprised that there was truly another with her, Alison looked to both sides, trying to find the owner of that voice. When she found no one, she decided to call out, ‘Who’s there?’ she asked, no longer caring if that person heard her fear. 

‘Down here girlie.’ The voice sounded, this time irritated.

When Alison looked down, she found herself staring eye to eye with the most bizarre creature she had ever seen. His eyes were like that of a cat’s, yellow with black irises, his skin scaly like those of an alligator’s, and he possessed the body of a falcon with nostrils that breathed smoke. 


‘What are you?’ Alison questioned the creature. 

‘What am I? What AM I? I’m a dragon you fool! Don’t you learn about my kind in school anymore?’ 

‘You don’t have the right to speak to her in that tone, Draca.’ Came a voice from behind her. Turning her body to see what other otherworldly creature this voice belonged to, she found herself now facing the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. 

His wings furled as she stared, giving here mere seconds to admire his large wingspan. His wings were onyx, like that of the roses that lay in the bushes on both sides of her. With nothing but a pair of body-hugging leather pants that hung low on his waist, Alison took the time to admire his olive skin, a stark contrast against his platinum blond hair and pale, icy blue eyes that seemed to burn as they connected with hers.
For a moment, Alison could have sworn she felt a breeze kick up in the stale air, but that was quickly forgotten when she recognized the incessant flutter of her heart since she locked eyes with this blond stranger. As their eyes stayed connected, Alison found herself at a loss for words, her previous fears forgotten amidst the emergence of a new one.

Love will come. It will come dangerous and overpowering. The fortune-teller had warned. 

Back at the carnival booth, she had scoffed at the lady who she thought made her earnings through lies and tales. Alison did not believe in love. Love was for the hare-brained cheerleaders in her high school. She knew better. Her mother’s four ex-husbands were enough proof of it. 

This is can’t be love. It doesn’t exist. Alison chanted to herself. 

Not that it helped. Overpowered with this foreign feeling, Alison’s body decided to take its own course and she found herself walking towards the blond stranger, noticing that he was doing the same. It was as if they were being pulled towards each other, not wanting any separation between the two of them. 

The music, air and stench were long forgotten, and all she could think of was the blue of his eyes and the crooked, yet incredibly charming smile he now wore as they met in between. 

I need to feel him. 

Not long after, she felt his hand upon her cheek – as if she willed it – and was surprised that she managed to catch his whisper even as her strong feelings for this strange man seemed to possess her entire being.

‘I’ve missed you, my queen.’

3 comments:

  1. You have a nice sense of plot. I will mention a couple of things that you can take or leave as you will. Also, when I provide a different writing of your lines I am not suggesting that you adopt it, just pointing out a different style.

    a. Listen to yourself the next time you are startled and talk aloud to yourself. You probably don't speak in full sentences.

    ‘Is that an eagle? Eagles aren’t supposed to be out at night...”Alison wondered, speaking more to herself than anybody else.

    might become:

    "...an eagle?" The eagle in the night made no sense to Alison.

    b. Looking a bit closer at this encounter:

    When Alison looked down, she found herself staring eye to eye with the most bizarre creature she had ever seen. His eyes were like that of a cat’s, yellow with black irises, his skin scaly like those of an alligator’s, and he possessed the body of a falcon with nostrils that breathed smoke.

    When you look down it is really not a meeting "eye to eye". And remember, Draca startled her.

    Avoid similes because they lack strength. "Her teeth were like stars... they came out at night."

    Another little problem, it jumps from animal to animal. What do you want the reader to think of when then envision Draca? The line jumps from fluffy kitty to dangerous alligator to distant bird with a sinus infection.

    Another writing might be:

    She tried to flee the close voice but fell instead. She raised her head. Glowing cat's eyes, alligator skin, an eagle shape. It didn't make sense but then it spoke again with a wisp of steam.

    BTW
    I totally disagree with you stance on blazers and will only change my mind if you can tell the world the origin of the word "chic"!



    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey William thanks for your feedback! It really does help when I'm trying to improve this draft!

      I don't think that many of my readers would give that much importance to the origin of 'chic'... LOL.

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