Getting back into the flow of writing, mostly with wordplay and poems. I'm a creative soul, from childhood to middle age, and my joy is to produce new things the world has never seen before. I'm an educator from the USA working as a college professor of lit and music. I'm learning to love myself little by little.
Stella trundled along the brook's edge, gazing behind her all the while when she could. The moon, the MOON! It was always there behind her, even when the brook changed directions like an eager puppy on its first trip to the park after a water-drinking contest that had lasted all night. As the water lapped against her trainers, Stella wiped sweat away from her forehead. What did it mean?
The moon was not as it usually was. It inched through the sky towards her location, measuring the marigolds and casting about from side to side as if worrying a steak offered her by an obliging robber. The moon seemed to be growing bigger, closer, hotter. What was wrong?
45 year old schoolteacher Stella Moran arched her back, stretching for comfort, and surged along the bank faster. Then, in a touch of subterfuge that felt silly to her even as it happened, she unexpectedly veered off to the left, through the water, and across the brook, and loping off to the other side, approaching the wire fence belonging to her neighbor.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (6 so far!)
Average reader rating 5.00/5
Quite interesting. I have no idea where you're going with this, or even what's going on. Is it all in the mind, or is something weirder going on?
(Don't answer that here, of course. Answer it in the story.)
- #857 Posted 7 years ago
- 5 out of 5
BTW, @wolframdioxide, if you see this, I've tried to follow you here but there was a "page not found" error that I am sure will be fixed in time. Cheers!
- #896 Posted 7 years ago
Oopsie. I thought I'd sorted that out. I'm on the case. Sorry about that.
- #898 Posted 7 years ago
So confused, but very glad there is one central focus here and that is the moon. The tangents are quite wild. Some of them I like, some are too much for me.
- #949 Posted 7 years ago
I started this with just a title and no plan; at first I planned something as zany as my cowboy pastiche things, but now I have seen it shape into something more mystical. I'll rewrite this, maybe as an alternate version as a prequel to #2.
- #956 Posted 7 years ago
The "measuring the marigolds" line is from the Inchworm song in the Danny Kaye movie "Hans Christian Andersen."
- #4126 Posted 3 years ago
- Published 7 years ago.
- Story viewed 16 times and rated 1 times.
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