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....
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
As I type this on Saturday evening, I’m still aglow from my son’s fifteenth birthday and a local research trip with my daughter, twelve, to the General Schuyler House (I’m writing her an alternate history, and the house, only ten miles from ours, will figure into it, just as it did in actual events...
I’ve also been participating in the Story a Day September Challenge; more on that after the post. And, because I like to be busy, I’ve also been learning my shiny new website, which will become my main online home by the end of the year.
My girl models a splash of red at Fish Kill Creek, on the edge of Philip Schuyler's property. Love sharing history with her!
Until then here’s another serialized snippet from “A Splash of Red.”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…we're getting close to the end, now, so things that have been mysteries will maybe begin to come clear...or as clear as they will get, anyway.
More on the story after the eight-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. The last two lines of the previous snippet:
“Hawks eat doves.” She stares a challenge at me; then up at the hawks.
Given the surrealism of the story, punctuation is a bit creative, so be warned!
Reflecting Me Back
“Not always. We're strong, like a hawk. We learned well. I can protect them – and you, too, if you'll let me.”
The hawks wheel in the hopeful sky, feathers brighter than the changing leaves. She watches me, watches the shadows of hawks passing over my face. And then, tentatively, she takes the pebble, holding it, stroking it over her cheek, her eyes wide and reflecting me back to myself.
Far above, but drawing closer, the hawks cry out, and we shiver together in our shared fear of beaks and talons and sharp-edged pin feathers.
Can the woman protect the child?
Will the hawks attack?
Will the pebble hold some power?
Next week may bring more answers - and certainly more questions!
Previous “A Splash of Red” snippets:
Previous posts can be accessed through the list at the end of my original “Hawks Eat Doves” post at my WordPress blog.
Did you like what you read? “A Splash of Red” was originally published 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