Dragon

giraffe, I'm sure I've read Strangers but I can't quite remember the story. I find I have trouble putting his title to the stories. I think my favorite one Koontz book was Intensity. It was well named, it started with a bang and just kept coming. I had a terrible time putting it down to go to sleep, I just had to know what happened next.
marius, a warning about Koontz, he's not as scary as King but his work definitly has a supernatural quality about it.

giraffe

Strangers is the one where different people all over the US start having paranormal events and they all converge at a Motel in a small town. A little like 'The Stand' but the end makes sense.

Doug

256 exluding title...

Hell and a hand basket

Brown eyed girls don’t grow on trees ya’ know. I should know I found mine walking alone in the park yesterday. Those eyes mesmerized me the moment I saw them. They looked right through me as I jogged by. She didn’t notice me, but I sure noticed her. She made it another fifty yards and I did a buttonhook and trailed her at a safe distance. The last vestiges of the moon were visible on the horizon and an iridescent glow from the now ascending sun set off a mystic dance twinkling and sparkling through the leaves of the trees.
I had brought my van where I could listen to Morrison and sit and dream about the honey with the brown eyes, but I’d rather follow her and maybe talk to her. There was a caravan of squirrels all chasing the swirling leaves as the breeze picked up. The squirrels were a mere sideshow. The main attraction was the mystery girl who turned my legs to jelly and my heart skip.

I gained on her and neared as close as I dared. It was getting to the end of the trail and my van was nearby. This side of the park was secluded and I didn’t see anyone else around. It was time. I had to make my move. I strode up next to her and she stopped dead in her tracks, literally. The taser had rendered her motionless. I drug her body into the van and finished her off with a pillow.

Doug

giraffe: Just catching up a little....loved your "CaraVan" story. Really had me going. Your use of the word list or its "abuse" was so proper it was genius. I'm really proud of that one!

giraffe

Doug. I know you're a family man. I think stories like this come from the desire to amuse readers - not from some suppressed primal urge. Please agree with me on that. And I'll promise not to get the sex change. I'm a family man too.

Thanks for comments on CaraVan.

giraffe

Where else do you get conversations like this? Thanks ThinkWrite.

Nylecoj

Okay, I finally wrote something. I "cheated" on Morrison, I used "more reason" hope that isn't pushing it to far. 256 words with the title.


Spring


The world is clothed in green. A silvery veil of mist hangs hiding her from the sun’s bright eye, dancing with the wind through the grassy hills, chasing down the banks of a river into the shadowed forest still lit by a pale moon, shining with a thousand mystic stars on the silver trunks of the trees growing up from the soft brown loam of the forest floor. The river flows through the forest like mirth bubbling from a girl’s heart, laughing its way towards the sea with no more reason than to hear itself laugh, chattering with the squirrels playing in the leaves, cajoling the birds till the whole forest rings with the laughter of Spring.
Then the world lays aside her dark cloak of night, and pushing back her silvery veil, bursts forth in color, arrayed in gleaming swathes of flowers to greet the morn, brighter, bewitching, and more beautiful than Van Gogh’s finest masterpiece. For a second all is still and silent, from the deer drinking at the river, to the ant caravanning the ground, then, with a gurgle of laughter, the world breaks out in glad song again.
Now the river races down the rocky slopes on its last stretch before the sea, bringing the sun behind it like a silver sash pinned with a golden brooch, laughing down to meet the lapping waters that roar with a deafening cheer at the sight of the sun, as the world rejoices, like a bride meeting her bridegroom, the bright dawn of Spring.

giraffe

That is friggin gorgeous, Jocelyn. I especially liked Van Gogh as word usage. The result is something descriptive and visual. Pure thoughts and beautiful. Why didn't anyone get murdered, though? Just kidding.

Dragon

That was beautiful Joc, puts me right into spring. LOL at more reason = Morrison!

marius

Ditto Dragon's comment, Nylecoj! Spring (through November) is my favorite time of year ... and am thinking Spring is certainly a favorite time for you! Many lovely images: " the mist ...shining with a thousand mystic stars on the silver trunks of the trees," " The river flows through the forest like mirth bubbling from a girl’s heart," ... lovely tribute to Spring! Enjoyed!

Nylecoj

Thank you for your nice comments!! Glad you all enjoyed! Spring is definitely my favorite time of year.

Doug

Yes giraffe I am a family man. Mom, dad, 2 kids, 1 dog and 2 cats who are moving out to Beverleee, which for us is out in the "boonies" as I call it next month. My mind may work in mysterious ways and I do love a good horror movie or book, but I'm about as straight laced as it goes. No tats, one pierced ear I got when I was 36 and work myself to death. The only thing I've ever killed were deer and I eat the meat.

Doug

Nylecoj: Outstanding! (spring). Love the way you wind those long sentences into a definate flow of the story line and bring the reader into the story to feel ebb and flow. Very creative and I thought brilliant!

marius

256 words and Morrison becomes ... Morris on. (cheating is such fun.)


The Same Page

Father Ignatius turned the skeleton key in the heavy wooden door. He patted the door with affection, pocketed the key and padded down the hallway. It had been a particularly trying day and he was looking forward to sleep.

As he shuffled to his room, the shadow-leaves of trees danced in the moonlight on the brown tiled floor. The wind howled and a crack of thunder filled the hall.

He entered his room and found Morris on his bed, licking between the toes of her paws as if there was nothing better to do. It made the priest laugh. He thought Morris was more The Mystic than most: that old girl lived in the moment.

He sat on his bed, and at that instant, the heavens let loose a shower of lightening and illuminated the Visitor standing next to him. Her voice was sweet like lilacs. She said, “The gift is LOVE.” Then she was gone. Father Ignatius neither saw nor heard her.

He eyed Morris curiously, turned out the light and got into bed. “Morris,” he sighed, “I hope he put the van in the shed but you know Father Justin, all rush and tumble. If he would just think about love. Astonishing gift! Imagine not being able to receive it? That’s Father Justin, a caravan of pain. Let us pray he finds the gift.”

Morris was still there when they found the old man’s body in the morning. Father Justin thought, “I do want to love, but part of me is still too angry.”

Doug

marius.......hehe you do have a "dark" side don't you. That was delicious! Loved the way you used Morris on.....maybe I'm just a bit tired, but did you just write a piece with a priest murdering a priest?????? Or maybe the cat did it, or he just passssssed on. Anyway it was delightful!

Dragon

marius, nice one. I like the ambiguous ending making us wonder (like Doug asked) did a priest just get killed by another? or did he simply die? I also liked the way he so matter of factly took his vision.

Doug, congrats on your new home, I hope you have a good move.

mouse

This word list just jumped out at me and as a result this little tale evolved - hope you enjoy it --

To all who celebrate Easter , have a happy and blessed day.


The Gypsies

Each year, in the spring, they come to our tiny valley. It is the flowing river with its magnificent waterfall that draws them. They feel it holds great mystery and draw from it a sort of spiritual power.

Their caravan, consisting of five horse drawn wagons, looked like something out of a fairy tale. Each wagon was painted in bright colors and had the mystic symbols of the Zodiac.

The lead wagon held the family of Morrison, their leader. He was a giant of a man with huge powerful hands that easily controlled the matched pair of large draft horses. Sitting beside him, on the wagon seat, was the most beautiful brown eyed girl I have ever seen. Bella, I learned later, was her name and she was Morrison’s’ youngest daughter.

Most evenings, people from our tiny village would go out to their campsite and watch the festivities unfold.

The first night, there was a display of knife throwing. A young, muscular, bronzed skinned fellow, called Van, threw his knives with expert precision. His target: Bella’s outline as she stood against a white painted board. Each knife hit with in a hair’s breadth of her radiant skin and it buried deep into the wood. With each toss the crowd gasped and then applauded.


The following evening the women danced under a full moon, around a bonfire, each one clinking small cymbals and singing a rhythmic song.

To this day I remember vividly there many excursions into our valley. It was rather a unique experience.

giraffe

Very visual and creepy, Marius. I like the lighting. I won't go for the obvious sequel about sex scandals. That's to creepy for even ME. I think your priests were so obsessed with suppressing human desires, they were psychopathic. Just my opinion - no judgements.

giraffe

Doug. Also very visual, but not creepy. I expected a huge Easter bunny to come bounding through the camp. lol. I'm gonna have to try one of these visual stories.

marius

Doug, tee hee, doesn't everyone has a dark and shadowy side ... or two?

Your comment made me think of these lines from Brenda Ueland's, 'If You Want to Write.' She wrote "...when you get down to the True self and speak from that ... (p 102) ... But how to single out your true self, when we are all so many selves? ... for I myself seem to be so many different people, sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, a murderer, a whiner, a mother, a simpering lady, an old rip, a minister, a burglar, a lion, a weasel." (p 110)

Now confession: Doug's comment shocked me! Had to re-read and indeed, saw what Doug had seen, what Dragon seemed to see too. The long version of recent story made the thunderstorm wonderful because Father Ignatius loved storms. No creep factor! Spent much time with this one and all felt soothing and sweet and perhaps it was, but once edited for word count ... hahaha ... story turned into something I didn't know was there. How funny is that! Perhaps the story had a mind of its own? Perhaps marius should pay closer attention when she edits? Scratching my head and laughing because this is one part of TW I love - learning. Just not sure what has been learned yet. : )

Mouse - thoroughly enjoyed, "Gypsies!" Made me feel that you were there, you saw it, felt it, smelled it ... found myself wondering where in life mouse has encountered Gypsies. Very nice! Agree with giraffe on the visuals.