It’s the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! We’ve got a variety of genres and talented writers just waiting for you to come sample their wordy wares. Come read one, or all, or pick a few like leftover holiday memories….
And, if you’re inclined to share your own 8-10 sentence snippet, follow the link and sign up. It’s a great community to be a part of! =D
I’m nearly done with the basic scene planning for my April CampNaNoWriMo novel. The story is becoming clearer, with its own heartbeat. It’s not quite ready to be born – there’s still ordering the scenes, fleshing them out, and getting things organized before April 1. But I’m a lot closer, and feeling like I might be more ready than I’ve ever been to start writing.
But, enough of all that. Right now, it’s time for my next snippet from “A Splash of Red” , which I’m serializing here. This surreal fantasy story is the child of my own life and dreams, with a generous dollop of imagery and a big dash of creative license…
More on the story after the nine-sentence snippet.
Context, such as it is…A woman is attempting to win the trust of a little girl in a red dress, while hawks wheel above…and she’s just spotted an unusual heart-shaped pebble nearly hidden beneath a leaf. We pick up from there:
Given the surrealism of the story, punctuation is a bit creative, so be warned!
“This Is My Heart”
I pick it up, to hold, to feel, to cling to. It has a chipped cleft that suggests brokenness, but it is otherwise whole, a mottled collage of blues and grays.
The hawk stops, lifts up and away, back to the hopeful sky.
“This is my heart – and yours, too.”
The words leap and streak across the space to her, over the hills and past the boulders, across my mind and into her soul – they are so strong that they leave sizzling afterimages, shaking me, reshaping her.
I feel the pebble in my hand and my soul, and know that I have to give it to the child I once was – something to bind us to one another, now and forever…
A protection the hawks can’t touch.
I get halfway up, talons and beaks of agony piercing my ankle, and I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood. I grab at a standing stump, then a tree, then a boulder, and another tree, dragging myself along, with the pebble clutched tight in my fist.
Is the pebble important?
Will the child flee again?
Have the hawks given up on them?
Can they heal together?
Come on back next week to find out more!
Previous “A Splash of Red” snippets:
Did you like what you read? “A Splash of Red” was originally published, in its entirety, in the 2014 inaugural edition of World Unknown Review, which is edited by L.S. Engler. Since I retain all rights beyond first publication, I intend to revise the story and use it as my own initial self-publishing experiment.
That being said, I’d love any and all input and criticism you’re inclined to offer. Until then, may your week be delightful! =D
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