%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
Daily entries for Round 11 of the "15 for 15 Contest"! |
  
|
| Mystic watched Roberta clasp the camera in her hands. Her increasingly desperate attempts to get him to stay in one place was attracting curious glances from the other people who had chosen to spend their Sunday at the park. He cocked his head to the side and wagged his tail thinking, "That's right, over here. C'mon you silly girl, follow the puppy!" He went over to run circles around her shuffling feet, just enough to put her off balance, before leaping away just outside of the lens' view. Roberta called out to him, "Oh, SIT boy! Please! Just STAY put for God's sake!" Beads of sweat began to roll off the top of her lip, and Mystic could hear the elevation of stress in her voice. He beelined for the lake, causing the ducks to scatter in alarm, and forcing his owner to chase after him. Mystic caught sight of Prince, the West Highland Terrier, lounging beside his master Derrick just a few yards off. They exchanged glances before Mystic proceeded to yelp at Roberta's ankles. She squealed a little, and cursed him quite a bit more, but eventually threw her camera to the ground before plonking herself down in misery beside it. A large dewdrop fell from a sycamore leaf, straight onto Robert's head, causing her to blush with humiliation and anguish. It took a few moments for Derrick to make his way over, Prince at his heels. Roberta tried to hide from him the tear drops that were beginning well, but he smiled with his azure eyes and swiftly nabbed the camera, training it towards Mystic with an eager, "Who's a good boy?" The flash went off and triumphantly he proclaimed, "See, that's how you get your dog to behave!" Roberta stared longingly at Derrick's cherubic smile, his white teeth catching the sunlight, as they always did. It seemed as though a spark suddenly passed between them, a moment for which Roberta had been waiting three anxious years. Prince's eyes rolled. Mystic exchanged another glance with him, sharing his despair for their dumb human masters. |
| Unconcerned guests passed by the hotel lobby in their droves, many of them businessmen sporting leather briefcases and weary expressions. Families also made up a significant proportion of the visitors during these summer months in the city, no doubt hoping to spend the next few weeks touring the area, and scouring the major high-street brands for something expensive to bring back home as a boasting souvenir. Janice and Eliza glanced at each other from across the room, stooped over their mops at opposite ends of the tiled lobby floor in their grey overalls. It was ten in the morning, and already perspiration was beginning to transpire atop their deeply contoured brows. They had set up their yellow warning signs around the area they were cleaning, but it was remarkable to them how many people would walk directly across their paths anyway, too preoccupied with whatever purpose they had dedicated their minds to that day, far from the the world of lowly cleaners in hotel foyers. Eventually, they were finished with the floors, along with the dusting and polishing of various displays which offered the area a sense of finesse, unless one were to look more closely at the make and quality of such items. They ushered themselves into the nearest elevator which took them up to the first floor. They dragged their hoovers and mop buckets behind them, stepping out into the deserted corridor, and dark-haired Eliza, with her severe, high-positioned bun proceeded to take the left, whilst fiery-haired Janice continued to the right. Suddenly, they both stopped, and glanced around with shifty eyes as they surveyed the empty hallway and its blue patterned rug that stretched most of the way down. The area was utterly without disturbance, and at once a smirk blossomed across Eliza's face. They each closed their veined hands around the wooden handle of their mops, tensed and taut, pausing for but a moment, before drawing them out of the holster of the red, plastic buckets, and swinging them round with precise aim at each other's torsos. "BANG!" Janice screamed, triumphantly. Eliza ducked for cover, and pushed herself against the nearest wall, clasping the mop against her bosom before swinging it back round to aim once again at Janice, who had taken to concealing herself around the next convex bend in the wall, her breathing heightened, and her pulse racing. They both jumped at the sound of approaching footsteps, and rushed to claim the rest of their equipment before ambling back down their diverging routes, just as the tall, mustached manager sashayed towards them from out of the adjacent lift. He looked them up and down with unbridled pertinence and unquestioned authority, stroking his chin in a curious fashion as he did so. His eyes roamed over the two seemingly oblivious ladies, and his eyes creased to thin lines below his even finer eyebrows, as with an uncomfortable silence he took out the keys for an empty room, and entered through the veneered door of No. 68. Neither Eliza nor Janice risked an exchange of glances, committing their line of sight to the opposing walls before them, but they each donned an unmistakable smirk, their painted lips pulled very slightly at the corners. But once again, their hands clenched firmly around the mop handles. |
| We stood still in that moment of silent intent. No longer hurried, no longer fearful. The sound of the barley brushing against each other in the westerly breeze captured both our ears and our minds. I have never known since such malefecence, and yet such harmony in the one second we took to glance behind us. The fields seemed to have been parted by our fleeing tracks, and as the hills began their rolling descent once again, it was possible to detect our pursuers, the black, roving specks that they were, ever hot on our heels no matter how far in the distance they might have seemed. I grabbed my roomate Jenna by the arm, and whispered into her ear, "Is it safe?" But she turned back to me with moist lashes and a trembling shake of her head, too uncertain to reply. We had come this far, I thought. Traversed so many miles of trecherous terain. I glaced beside me to my nine year old brother, Zack, who was doubled over in exhaustion. To go back now... A bumble bee bumped against the back of my neck, buzzing in my ear until its flight path was redirected by the wind. The hair on my arms bristled as I stared out over the sweeping planes of golden wheat, transfixed by its whispering advances, as though it were beckoning us to enter into its complete embrace. Suddenly, I felt a rush of air to my left as Zack went hurtling forward. He dove into the long field, and though I tried to reach out and grab him, his sodden t-shirt just barely slipped through my fingers. I called to Jenna to remain where she was, not knowing if she had heard me, or even understood my warning. The heads of the wheat brushed up against my neck as I struggled through, groping for the feel of Zachary's warm body in my arms, when I suddenly tripped on something hidden in the ground, and went flying forwards onto my stomach. The face of a masked man appeared before me amongst the stems, and he placed a gloved hand over my mouth to muffle my screams. The last thing I remember is the same toxic purple vapour, before the world seemed to melt around me. |
| On the deep sea bed where the cockles lie The turtle sighs, nodding from side to side. The clown fish passes, muttering his greeting, But the turtle's response is just as fleeting. Long days and weeks with no person to talk to, The turtle despairs in these cold waters blue. Will he ever find that special reptilian lady? Each day that drags confides a lesser, "Maybe..." |
| "Ahh, I've told you before, you need to have your eyes checked!" The spider cried out to the little man with the needle. "What tailor can't sew thread through a needle? It's beyond madness!" The spider tumbled down from his head to sit upon the knuckles of the man's right hand, and with his legs guided the thread through the eye of the needle, closing four of his eight eyes as he did so. The little man blinked at him with apathy, and scratched gingerly at his yellow beard. He didn't say a word as he reached for a pair of trousers and methodically began to stitch up the frayed hem. The spider rattled up his arm and whispered instructions into his ear. "It's in and out, up and down, that's right, that's the stitch you want." Soon, the bell rang over the shop door, and a young girl of around nine stepped inside, wearing a pretty floral bonnet tied with blue ribbon beneath her rosy chin. The spider scampered out of sight over the little man's shoulder, who bowed before the girl and led her further into the store. She stated her name as Clara, and gracefully untied the blue bonnet. Clara presented it before him, pointing out the large gash in its seams, wondering if he could fix it up for her to wear proudly again. The little man took it without a word, and motioned that he would need just a moment. Meanwhile, the spider waited expectantly in the fabric-filled closet at the back of the shop, hanging upside down in his finely woven web. The little man stepped inside and showed the bonnet to his arachnoid partner, who took one look at it and smiled profusely. "Bring her in here, yes, bring her in. She'll do, she'll do just fine. I'll sew the bonnet up, and you, you just help me take a little bite, hmm..." The little man stepped out to usher Clara into the closet, and the spider grinned from his first eye to his eighth, snipping at the strings of his laden web until a cold, pale body dropped to the floor with a muffled thud. |
| I hadn't known it would be this hard to watch a sunrise without her. Waking to the glowing splendour of a dawn that she would never again be able to harken. My bedroom window peers out beyond the amber-tinged park, the grey fleeces of the herons made suddenly to look more radiant than any midday sun could do, a piece of knowledge she would never again be able to impart to her children, or her children's children. How often we had reclined over those green-kissed grasses. I miss the way she would pant beside me in the heat, and I would laugh at her droopy expressions. The train approaches the station once again, the breaks screeching over the rails, then silence, before the monotonous drawl of the engine pushes it onwards again, leaving behind the companions who just wanted to put in one final farewell. How heartbreaking the forces of this world could be. How truly distant. I drag a tear away from the corner of my eye, the moisture seemingly all too real because of the great flood welling up within my chest. I breathe against the window pane with great, violent heaves, as I try to abate my festering emotions. One more train rolls on by. Quite abruptly, I hear my Mum calling with urgency from downstairs. I clamour down from the ledge and hurry over to the door. As I open it, a white ball of white fluff bumps against my leg with a muffled squeak. I smile weakly and bend down to pick him up, gazing into his watery eyes as he licks my nose, and yelps with an amiable, "Woof!" So much like his poor mother, I muse. Just so alike. I trundle down the stairs and place Numpkin beside his other siblings in their basket just by the kitchen door. I slump myself at the table and push aside the popping bowl of cereal to lean over the surface and sob into my trembling arms. It was just so tragic, that they would never know a mother. I look up to see my own mum watching me with a pert expression on her face, eyebrow cocked and her mouth slightly drawn to the side. She says, "Matty, you know she's at the Vet, right? You'll see Moxxie when you come home from school. Good lord--" She rolls her eyes at me as I try to stem my sobbing gasps. She turns her back on me and sighs. "The dog is going to be quite all right." She pauses. "There, there." |
| And Rambo's going for the big curl, it's a whopper! Aey look, he's taking it, he's taking it! Still standing like a pro... but uh oh, looks like he's losing control. Aw no, it's wipe-out! And the surfer takes a pounding! Tina, of all people, punched me in the arm in a way as if to say I was being disrespectful to the fallen surfer dude. I replied, "Dear sister 'o mine, for millennia man has learned to rise out of the ashes of failure, consider this simply the end to another illustrious chapter, the next which will start around about..." We watched the same guy lithely lift himself back up onto his board, muscles flexed as he jumped into the rolling hills of the next burst. "Now." She tutted, muttering something about guys in general, and our propensity for frivolous exploits, before re-applying sunscreen on her arms and laying back on the sand, arms outstretched by her sides, shades shielding her eyes from the sun. My attention turned back to that of the surfer; he'd fallen off again. For someone so toned, he was clearly a novice... or just very bad. He'd disappeared again into the water, but I could see his surfboard on the surface. It looked like the string had snapped between the board and the guy's ankle at some point during his tumble. I nudged Tina, who pursed her lips in annoyance. "Hey, look, the guy's disappeared. C'mon, he might have drowned." I grinned, knowing how much she would hate to see a good looking guy in peril, but she just rolled her head to the side and ignored me. I pouted fiercely and looked back to the sea. Nope, still no sign. Placing my hand behind my head, I rested back onto the sand beside her. He'll be fine, I mused. The sky was so incredibly blue. What could possibly happen on a day like this? |
| Rough silt squeezes through his toes, Cool stream water splashing him in droves; He smiles at the camera and laughs at his friend, Who couldn't be cajoled to chase him in the end. But the ball's still flying high above their heads Entreating delirium and severing the thread Between two worlds colliding, today and tomorrow One, brimming with charm, the other with sorrow. Who knows when next the sun may shine? When the Fates of mirth may once again align? Young boys become men before they know it, It's the destiny of time... so why not enjoy it? |
| Shakti, the power of goddesses, raged darkly within her gut. She held it there, nurtured it, let it smoke a little, and seep out in wisps from her nostrils. The eyes of the other girls watched her, curious and uncertain. What would she do, this girl with midnight hair and sweeping cheekbones? What would happen? Her stance was coiled, as if prepared to lash out and strike dead poor Millicent, the playground bully, who had not realised the terrible trouble she was now in, to have provoked a sleeping dragon by the name of Katherine. Millicent startled when Katherine’s fists began to tremble at her sides, took in a sharp breath when the live creature flashed her opal eyes, devastatingly, sizing up stout Millicent in the most egregious way. Millicent wiggled the lunch bag from off her broad shoulder, and picked up a foot to back away with. The milling crowd behind her split down the middle for her departure, wishing upon no one whatever fate it was that she had in store. The darling scent of brie and homemade cinnamon curls hovered between the two, the hydra and the thief, but an innocent caught in the feud. Far outmatched, breathless Millicent prostrated herself with hands outstretched towards the beast. She placed the tasty lunch bag before Katherine’s black-shoed feet, and eyes lowered, slowly began to back away. The crowd stood tense, unnerved, not knowing if the debt had been settled between them. To have stolen so thoughtlessly from the dragon’s lair, what foolishness had flown through Millicent’s mind this day! And lithe Katherine took heed of her fear, of her dry swallows and moist corneas, and flicked her forked tongue with mirth at the scene. She’d learned a lesson, and a hard one at that. Never tempt a serpent’s wrath, lest one face the consequences of such conceit. And if one should so happen to incur its fury in wait, beware its purple-flamed vengeance, for it may sooner turn one’s skin to cinders and char the unsuspecting perpetrator bare. |
| Sunshine heart, sunshine waters, I’ve danced with the frogs along the stream. They’re here again, the long days that tickle my memory, because I’ve been here before, beneath skies so paintbrush blue. And once again, there’s not a cloud above my head. Papa knows I’ll be back home to bring him a daisy chain when I’m done. There’s a trick to the holes, and sewing the stems through, like my friend once showed me, before she moved. Last year, I found the fairy caves, and where the grumpy gnomes hide, and this year I hope they’ll all get along a little better with themselves. But they promised to make my wishes on the stepping stones come true, so some nights, I sing them a prayer to say thank you, as one always should. The grasses are still squidgy, but not from the rain. I still find green stains, even though I’m now playing gentle and safe. My skin smells sweetly of sunscreen, otherwise my Papa just wouldn’t let me out. I’m still a little itchy, but he told me that if I scratched, I’d only make it worse, and I don’t think I could handle any more of that. There’s a toad I’ve called Fred, and a neighbour’s cat who likes me more. If she didn’t have a collar, I would call her my own and never give her back for a moment. I have a feeling we’ll all be indoors again, tomorrow, or the next. Someday, it won’t be just like this. I won’t feel prickly hot and want the breeze on my face; I won’t know the smell of freshly cut grass or the kiss of mayflies as they fleck my cheek. I used to collect them in the front of my striped pinafore, but someday, I think something will harry them away. And I’ll have to go inside again, drawing, talking, waiting, for another day like this, when I can meet the frogs and the ants, and the spiders on the garden shed. |
 Log in to Leave Feedback |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
