Yearning for Wonderland

There is such a place as fairyland - but only children can find the way to it...until they have grown so old that they forget the way. Only a few, who remain children at heart, can ever find that fair, lost path again...The world calls them singers and poets and artists and story-tellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland. ~ L.M Montgomery

Blogflash 2012: Success

This Blogflash 2012 entry proves not all success is positive.

DAY 10: SUCCESS

 “Hair black as coal, skin white as snow, beauty unceasing, true heart revealing.”

Elidia chanted the prophecy; it left a galling taste in her mouth, like the arsenic creams used to whiten her skin. Whiter, whitest, still the furrows in her face deepened.

She’d been the beauty, married the King. But Time, inexorable, curved creases round her mouth.
She pricked her finger with a gold needle and trailed it across her Mirror, tying the enchantment. 
Within the reflection, Snow White’s ruby mouth opened in a silent scream. 
Elidia reached for her face cream, the taste of success on her lips.

Blog Flash 2012: Journey

Some of these #Blogflash2012 themes I really love. Day 9 is Journey, which is a theme often seen in Yearning for Wonderland: the leaving of the familiar for the foreign and the potentially wondrous. I loved the image I chose for this as well.

DAY 9: JOURNEY

All her life she’d been told to turn away from the glowing star. It burned with distant fire over the next shore. Her heart throbbed with its pulse.

She’d broken her tribe’s law, stolen the smallest longship and dragged it to the edge of Long Waste, ice water slapping at her feet. Her golden hair flapped like a banner in the frozen fingers of the wind.

She unclasped the heavy gold armband and left it on the shattered sands, in payment for her theft.

One sharp push, the boat scraping the shore, and she was at last on her journey.

Word Count: 100
Art by Misstake1989 on Deviant Art. All rights reserved.

Blog Flash 2012: Relaxing

From romance to creepy childhood fairytale reinterpretation. No one can say that #BlogFlash2012 isn’t leading me down an unusual writing path.

DAY 8: RELAXING

Alice tumbled to the forest floor. She’d eaten three mushrooms, but she was hungry and the apple was so red. Her eyelids flickered: a rabbit by her elbow snapped shut his pocketwatch. The caterpillar exhaled a smoke ring the size of a dodo.

Her head rolled right and the roses chattered. The Queen of Hearts bit into a headless tart, smiling at Alice with a dripping red grin.

As the toxin from the Amanita mushrooms spread through her body with relaxing warmth, Alice thought she saw a floating cat grin at her.

And then she died.

Word Count: 100

Blog Flash 2012: Reading

*trumpet fanfare* Day 6! The word today is ‘Reading’. Now if I can only say 100 words about reading. Here’s my try, a little country love story.

DAY 6: READING

He edged alongside the house, the weathered grey clapboard scraping his hands.

She stood in the window, reading in the half-light. He focused on the sill’s peeling paint; he could paint that for her.

Cheeks stained red, he watched her read, couldn’t look away.

He absorbed all the tiny details: the fall of a red-gold curl, the curve of her cheek, her eyelashes’ flutter as she turned the page.

She smiled to herself as she read a good line, brow furrowed.

Well, that just cinched it; he had to ask her to marry him, any girl who loved to read.

Word Count: 100

Blogflash 2012: Frustration

I’ve often said writing flash fiction is like an addiction (such as in this guest post I wrote when I was featured on Laura Howard’s lovely blog). Trying to do this Blog Flash challenge is like shoveling big clods of mud out of a wet hole; it’s worthwhile, but sometimes the impediments move faster than you do.

Yet I slog ahead. Day 5’s word is Frustration.

DAY 5: FRUSTRATION

She’d waited so long for this day.

It had been a hundred years to the very hour since she and Edouard had sat on the edge of the Fountain de la Mer in the Place de la Concorde.

True love’s kiss: a moment of perfection. When she opened her eyes again, she was transformed, her skin hardened to stone.

Today, a couple sat at the fountain’s edge. Her eyes were fixed on them. He kissed her; she slapped him and left.

The mist from the fountain slid down her face like tears.

Beside her, Edouard stared on in stony silence.