Inspired by fellow blogger, Meg Writes Stuff, who writes short 100-word stories, I decided to try to something similar with the Writing Prompts. Last night at my writer’s group, I wrote the following three short stories. I did very little editing, my goal was to write as much as I could in two hours. Now, remember, I am a screenwriter. 🙂 I rarely write prose anymore, but I liked the idea of trying something different, and I’ve been so in my head lately I needed an escape…So here we go –
The cool air was a welcome respite from the warmth of the ensuing party indoors. The scent on the air indicated the flowers were in full bloom. The muffled sighs and hushed whispers revealed she was not alone. Neither her soft-soled shoes nor the faint dragging of her gown made enough sound to give away her presence as she made her way along the crooked path. Her hands gently trailed the rounded edges of the bushes that lined the path, their prickly edges tickling her skin. There was a nervous energy about her. As she moved further inward, the darkness grew until she almost disappeared. A puff of white smoke. The smell of chicory*. She hastened her pace. Only a few steps more, and she would be in his arms.
It felt like he had been locked in that dungeon for a century. When he was first interned he had tried his best to keep track of the days, looking for the wisp of light that tried its best to break through the smallest cracks, but as the days turned to weeks turned to months, torture, hunger, and fatigue had made it difficult to care. After so much time, death seemed the most promising prospect. Justice was not to be served here. Innocence was irrelevant. Rumors circled amongst the guards, and it was only then that hope returned. A crafty effort he had been planning for some time finally panned out and he found himself free. Desperation and sense of urgency propelled him forward until he took his first breath of fresh air. It had never tasted so sweet. His eyes, already used to the dark, made out shapes on the horizon. He knew the land well, and took shelter under a distant bridge. His prison had been just that, but at least it had been dry. He shivered throughout the night as a light rain turned menacing. By morning, half frozen and starved he got a glimpse of one of the most beautiful sights he had ever beheld…home.
The Archway was considered a legend. The Elders had maintained that The Archway had been destroyed during the first Great War that had torn the land apart, but there were some, who quietly believed it still existed. After the clans disbanded and moved away, there were a great many things that had fallen into the domain of myth. Generations later, when my clan crossed through the Old Lands once again, the legend of The Archway was resurrected. The Archway’s true purpose had been lost over the years; some believed it was a gateway to the afterlife, while others believed it could transport the traveler anywhere they wished as soon as they crossed the threshold, or possibly into the Other Realm. Whatever its purpose, the idea that it was within reach was too great an enticement. After six days in the wild, a mist gathered about my feet and guided me towards a natural formation of steps in the hillside. With the sun rising before me, I had to hold my hand up to shield my eyes, and it was then I saw a glint of light bounce off an invisible structure. I approached with trepidation, but with each step The Archway appeared more distinctly and I became more certain. I had been chosen. I would discover the secrets of our ancestors. But just to be on the safe side, I drew my sword.
I’d love your feedback. It’s been a long time since I wrote like this.
Have a great and productive weekend!
*Note to self – I need a specific scent