Category: Creative Writing

Book Character M*A*S*H

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Long time no see, huh? 2020 has been a ride, but I don’t need to tell any of you that. If you are a living breathing human being that inhabits earth, you probably know all too well!

Anyways, enough excuses-

I just wanted to share real quick a little game me and my writing friends would play at sleep overs and hang outs where you create a character based on your current circumstance. It’s a fun time waster and produces some fun results. Enjoy!

Inspired by the original game of mash, now you can make a completely randomized character based on these questions. Have fun!

1. What was the gender of the last person you talked to?

A) Female (Male character)

B) Male (Female character)

2. What meal did you just have?

A) Breakfast (black hair)

B) Snack (blonde or dirty-blonde hair)

C) Lunch (red or orange hair)

D) Snack (black hair)

E) Dinner (brown hair)

F) Dessert (any NOT NATURAL color hair)

G) Midnight snack (dark brown hair)

3. What place did you just go to?

A) School (red or blue eyes irises)

B) Religious Building (blue, brown, or orange eyes irises)

C) Park (green eyes irises)

D) Beach (eyes irises of any NATURAL color)

E) Concert (dark eyes irises of any color)

F) Mall (any color eyes irises)

G) Department store (deep blue eyes irises)

4. What sport have you watched most recently?

A) American football (British or mostly British)

B) Baseball (Asian or mostly Asian [can be from any Asian country])

C) Soccer (Spanish or mostly Spanish)

D) Video gaming (African or mostly African)

F) Basketball (American or mostly American)

E) None of the above (anything not already mentioned)

5. What animal did you last see?

A) Dog (4-8 yrs. old)

B) Cat (8-12 yrs. old)

C) Bird (12-16 yrs. old)

D) Fish (16-20 yrs. old)

E) Reptile (20-24 yrs. old)

F) Amphibian (24-28 yrs. old)

G) None of the above (28+ yrs. old)

6. What color shirt are you wearing?

A) Red (average person)

B) Orange (fantasy or sci-fi warrior)

C) Yellow (misunderstood outcast)

D) Green (medieval royalty)

E) Blue (time-traveler)

F) Indigo (elemental warrior)

G) Violet (DNA experiment gone wrong, animal/human hybrid)

H) Pink (popular celebrity)

I) Black, white, gray or brown (Spy)

J) Other (anything not already mentioned)

7. What letter does your name, or the name of a friend, start with?

A) A (Character’s first name starts with Z)

B) B (Character’s first name starts with Y)

C) C (Character’s first name starts with X)

D) D (Character’s first name starts with W)

E) E (Character’s first name starts with V)

F) F (Character’s first name starts with U)

G) G (Character’s first name starts with T)

H) H (Character’s first name starts with S)

I) I (Character’s first name starts with R)

J) J (Character’s first name starts with Q)

K) K (Character’s first name starts with P)

L) L (Character’s first name starts with O)

M) M (Character’s first name starts with N)

N) N (Character’s first name starts with M)

O) O (Character’s first name starts with L)

P) P (Character’s first name starts with K)

Q) Q (Character’s first name starts with J)

R) R (Character’s first name starts with I)

S) S (Character’s first name starts with H)

T) T (Character’s first name starts with G)

U) U (Character’s first name starts with F)

V) V (Character’s first name starts with E)

W) W (Character’s first name starts with D)

X) X (Character’s first name starts with C)

Y) Y (Character’s first name starts with B)

Z) Z (Character’s first name starts with A)

How old is your best friend?

7) (Character’s pet is a cat)

8) (Character’s pet is a dog)

9) (Character’s pet is a bird of some kind)

10) (Character’s pet is a lizard)

11) (Character has no pet)

12) (Character’s pet is something wild such as a tiger or wolf)

13 or older) (Character’s pet is something totally unreal)

What color are the eyes of the last person you talked to?

Blue) (Character’s weapon is a scyth or a spear)

Brown) (Character’s weapon is a sword or katana)

Hazel) (Character’s weapon is a bow and quiver of arrows or a gun)

Green) (Your character has no weapon except themself)

What color is the walls of the room you’re in right now?

Grey) (You character is on the run)

Yellow) (Your character is or is training to be a warrior for the leader of their world)

Pink) (Your character lives in the wild with animals or other made up beasts)

Blue) (Your character is part of a rebellion)

Red) (Your character is on a quest)

Orange) (Your character is off to save a family member)

White) (Your character led a normal life before the villian came and kidnapped their family but the character got away)

Green) (Your character goes to a type of magic or combat training school)

Purple) (Your character stumbles upon another magical realm)

None, I’m outside) (Your characters poses as royalty to be a decoy)

What kind of flooring does the room you’re in have?

Carpet) (Your character has a girlfriend/boyfriend)

Wood/Tile) (Your character is single)

It’s grass, I’m outside) (Your character is part of a love triangle) (and how are you taking this then?)

What kind of chair are you sitting on?

Wooden) (Your character has a human girlfriend/boyfriend/crush)

Coach/Sofa/stuffed chair) (Your character has a hybrid as a girlfriend/boyfriend/crush)

None, I’m sitting in the floor) (Your character has a werewolf or a vampire for a girlfriend/boyfriend/crush)

Desk Chair) (Your character has a elvin/dwarven/pixie girlfriend/boyfriend/crush)

None, I’m standing) (Your character has a assassin/spy girlfriend/boyfriend/crush)

Other) (Your character has a human girlfriend/boyfriend/crush)

Colors in the Sky

~ Brooke F. ~ 1 Comment

Long ago, when I was four, my mother told me that each vibrant color of the rising or setting sky was a mark left by the people who inhabited on planet earth. She said everyone would make their mark someday, even me. It may be at the most unexpected time, and you may not even notice–but you, will make your own colorful streak in the sky.

At the beginning of time, the sky lacked color, so the very first four people, the first ‘Mark Makers’, added color to the world above. The original ‘Mark Makers’ were a family, a distant older brother, a pair of good natured paternal twins, brother and sister, and last but not least, a rosy child that was the baby of the family, who loved to stand out and be herself.

The first one, the twin brother, filled the sky at the time we call day break, and the second loved the way her paternal brother did it, so she made it a similar way-she painted what we call afternoon. The next ‘Mark Maker’ was the youngest of all. She streaked the sky with shades of rose and orange.

The elder brother hated this idea, but wanted to be remembered for all eternity, so he had splashed the sky with dark, spooky colors of the night.

She told me the stars in the sky were decorations for one of the first ever ‘Mark Makers’, to show our gratefulness, and also so the children wouldn’t be so scared. As time passed, more and more ‘Mark Makers’ let their intakes of the world scatter across the sky, but as more and even more came, the marks of the new members were forced to become reduce in size, allowing enough room to fit everyone’s in.

Mother told me every mark has its own unique story to it, intertwining with one another. That I, one day would leave my mark. But 9 years have passed, and I still haven’t gotten one chance to just dabble on the boards of the skies. And I think I never will…

Original Fairytales: Born of Fire

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Once upon a time, in a land born of fire and smoke, there was a Kingdom. At this kingdom’s center was a castle made of dark stone, that sat perched atop a hill that surveyed all of the lands of the valley. There lived the wise king and queen who ruled fairly over their domain and were loved by all the people.
The monarchs were happy, for they had a flourishing kingdom and were adored by all the people. But, alas, not all was perfect for the Queen was barren and the couple yearned for children of their own. So, one day, the King set out to travel towards a large mountain that overlooked the kingdom.
There, the man remained for a week’s time, hoping and praying earnestly for a child. Then one day, he came upon the highest peak of the mountain, and there he found a large opening. In that opening was a substance of the likes he had never seen. A liquid fire that bubbled and smoked where is sat in the mountain’s hole. Then, a woman rose from the people, her presence like that of a wildfire, robbed in nothing but flames, her hair flickering in burning tendrils.
“I am the lady of the fire and have heard your cries,” she said to the King. “And I shall fulfill your wish.”
In her hands, she seemed to be holding a wrapped bundle of cloth. But, upon grasping the bundle, the King found the cherub-like face of a baby, nestled in the fabric. But when the King turned to thank the lady, she was gone.
And so, the king returned home with the child, and he and his wife named her Kenna, which means “born of fire”.
And so Kenna continued to grow up with her parents, given everything her heart desired. The family continued to hold favor with the people and the kingdom upon the hill was prosperous. All was well.

~~

Kenna woke to the beating of drums. It was her eighteenth birthday, she told herself. So, of course, there should be some celebration among the people. She rolled over in her bed, paying the pounding no heed. But as it continued to grow louder and louder, she rose and rushed to her balcony that overlooked the kingdom, wrapping her crimson, silk robe around her as she went.

A gasp escaped her lips as she saw a dark shadow on the horizon, moving slowly towards the city. “An army!” she exclaimed, her hands clenching into fists.

She whirled around and opened her mouth to call for a servant before stopping herself and resolving to dress quickly and skip her morning wash up. She burst into the royal chambers, talking feverishly fast to the council members, and her parents. “Ah! The attack!” a councilman said once she had finished.

“We have been well aware of this for the past two seasons.”

“What?” Kenna was confused.

“Our spies among our enemies have been quite helpful,” her father elaborated. “We have it all under control, dear heart.”

“Yes, dearest, why don’t you go back to sleep,” her mother agreed with her husband, nodding in such a way that made her dark curls bounce around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry your pretty head,” Her father finished, waving her away.

“Now off with you, we have business to attend to.” Kenna was indignant.

“But these are my people too. This is also my home as well! Can I not aid in the fight to defend it?!” She demanded, crossing her arms.

“Kenna, you would do well to hold your tongue,” her mother spoke sharply. “Now return to your room. This does not concern you. You are not Queen yet.”

Kenna turned, blinking back angry tears as she stalked out of the room, slamming the chamber doors shut behind her. The princess returned to her room to sulk and cast worried glances out her balcony window. The shadow army had finally stopped moving closer, coming to a stop just a few miles out from the city gates. Tents of dark fabric were put up. And so the waiting game began.

Kenna wondered what the plan of the army was. Hold them under siege? Attack them at night? Wait while they send an assassin in to kill their royalty and advisors? Kenna flopped backward onto her bed, heaving a long sigh. She wished terribly that her mother and father had allowed her to stay in the council chambers.

She wished they had let her sit there quietly and listen to the clever schemes that her father would suggest and the battle strategies that the council members would cook up. She wished so bad even if she wasn’t allowed to speak. Anything would be better than waiting around, listening to the silence before a battle. She sat up quickly.

“No,” she said. “I will be prepared to fight, they can count on that.”

The princess left her room once more, this time making her way down a long corridor that led to her parents’ room. Knowing that the room would be empty, she let herself in, her eyes searching for what she had come for.

Her gaze came to rest on a glass case mounted to the wall. Inside was her father’s famous sword collection, composed of rare and exotic rapiers, longswords, and sabers. She licked her lips as she looked at them longingly. How she had always wished she could wield one herself. She wanted so badly to grasp the leather hilt of the sword firmly and feel its balanced blade in her fist.

“And today I will!” she told herself, moving to open the metal case. The glass door swung open and Kenna looked quizzically, wondering as to which blade she should take. She finally decided on a long, intricate saber with a gold embellished hilt.

Kenna admired it for a moment before slipping it into its scabbard that she had attached to her waist. Now, if the enemy invaded her city, she would be ready.

~~


The enemy came crawling over the walls with sharp grappling hooks and armed with jagged weapons that sliced and cut with a biting fury. The men on the walls were no match with their primitive swords and crossbows that were of a much weaker metal. And they were outnumbered.
The King and Queen exchanged worried glances from where they stood overlooking the battle on the balcony. And for the first time, a distinct feeling of fear had come over the two.
The armies of the King and Queen were barely able to withstand the first wave of soldiers from the opposing side. And by the third wave, they had already taken over the main part of the city and continued to push towards the castle which they promptly invaded at exactly midnight.
The enemy had achieved victory and foreign royalty now sat upon the throne of the city of Feyre. The King and Queen were then thrown into the dungeons below the castle, left to weep for their people and their loss. However, a flicker of hope continued to burn in their hearts for their eighteen-year-old daughter had seemed to evade capture or else she would be by their side in the dungeon cell. The parents hoped desperately that their daughter would one day return and deliver her people. The Queen and King, kneeling in the cell, sent up a quick prayer to the Lady of Fire in hopes she would watch over and aid Kenna on her quest.
And while the Queen most certainly had her doubts, especially as their time in their cell dragged into weeks, the King never gave up on their daughter. She would return someday.
“After all,” he would tell his worried wife. “She was born of Fire.”
And the Queen would nod grimly. She knew all too well.
~*~
Kenna slipped silently through the doorway, holding her sword tightly in her hand. She paused a moment to listen to make sure no one lurked in the library. Silence echoed back, but her ears still hummed with static due to adrenaline. She glanced down at the blood smeared sword, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
I’m not abandoning them, she told herself, moving forward into the library. She made her way to the far wall and removed a book from it. She then reached into the space the book once occupied and her fingers found their way around a small metal knob which she turned slightly clockwise. A mechanical click was heard and the bookshelf swung forward, revealing a dark, gaping tunnel.
“There is no shame in living to fight another day,” her father’s words rang in her head. But still, her shoulders sagged and her head was bowed low in shame and defeat as she descended into the darkness, the shelf swinging deftly behind her.

Story Aesthetic Inspiration

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Whatever inspires I guess. Here are a few aesthetics I like that are fun to incorporate to stories for symbolism or just plain fun.

Herbs

Violins

The month of September

Piano keys

Flickering candles

Grandfather clocks

Dawn/Sunset

Cherries

Autumn 

Masquerade balls

Jasmine 

Winter

Parsley

Dice

Sage

Orchids

Coral

Shadow

Ocarinas

Saffron

Guitar

Ruby 

Pepper

Stained glass windows

Gears

Diamonds

Crystals 

Gold 

Blood

The moon

The planets

Playing cards

Crows

Prisms and rainbows

Greek

Lanterns

Roses

Stars

Carnivals

Green Computer code in a black background

Ink

Irises

Church Bells

Silver

Ivy 

Rain

Lightbulbs

Aurora

Royal

Apples

keys

Fireplaces

Paint

Egyptian style drawings

Black Pearls

White kittens

Blue butterflies

Settings/AU Ideas

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

In Modern times,

In A city,

In Victorian times,

In Space,

On a pirate ship,

In An academy,

In London,

On an African savannah,

That are pirates,

In A spaceship,

In Sci fi era,

That are/is a superhero(s),

In A circus,

in Egypt,

In Rome,

in A forest,

In Another dimension,

In The Steampunk era,

In High school,

In University,

In a time traveling machine,

In The zombie apocalypse,

in Fantasy world,


Quick Writing Ideas

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Quick Writing Ideas

A fairytale but told in reverse. This could mean a many number of things. You could reverse the roles or the events, either works. It’s good practice and helps you move past figuring out what to write. 

An excerpt from your life but told in a dramatic, over the top fashion. We’re all drama queens and you know it. This not only allows you to write what you know, but I’ve found it’s a wonderful way to expand your vocab because it forces you to look up big and fun words. And while these words are pretty frivolous in this specific context, these words will come in handy the next time you take on writing a story where they wouldn’t be so out of place. 

Get inspired by history. Write short excerpts from the point of view of old historical figures. There are tons of interesting people to be discovered in the past. 

Get inspired by art. Art and writing have a common purpose… to create a picture, so the two are clearly linked in one way or another. Perhaps this is why I find inspiration in the lovely paintings of the past. To do this yourself, pick out an interesting or unusual painting and use it as writing inspiration. 

Write an over the top conspiracy theory. The more ridiculous, the better. This also can be tool for building your vocabulary while you have fun writing the worst lies you’ve ever conjured. 

Write a piece specifically for mocking a cliche. 

Write down a list of three aesthetics or objects that you really like for some reason or another. Now try and incorporate them into a story. 

Take a fable or fairytale The primarily stars animal characters and humanize them. Or, if you’d like, take a human based fairytale and make all the characters forest animals. 

Take a work that you really like and give it a mood shift and tell it in a fashion completely opposite of what it was originally but while keeping most of the main events. For example, you take a work of Edgar Allan Poe and give it a sunny, happy, comedic spin. 

Challenge yourself to write a story where the narrative and events are completely confined in one room. 

Pick a specific year to inspire your work. 

Pick a historical figure to inspire your work.

Have your work center around a specific object. Like a mirror or a pen for example.

Have your work be inspired by a game. For example, chess, checkers, poker or just playing cards and their suites in general, Clue, monopoly, Candy Land, Shutes and Ladders, Mastermind, or Battleship to name a few. Think outside the box.

Have a color play a dominant theme in your story.

Have a plant play a dominant theme.

Or an animal.

Pirate Dialogue Writing Prompts

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Because why not?

“Batten down the hatches!”

“Work is for people who don’t know how to plunder.”

“Not all treasure is silver and gold.”

“I climbed the crow’s nest and now I can’t come down.”

“Weigh anchor!”

“Full speed ahead!”

“We’re pirates! We have no moral dilemmas!”

“Obey the captain or learn to swim.”

“Hoist the colors.”

“We’re pirates; We don’t take out loans!”

“The ocean roar is music to a pirate’s soul.”

“You’re so salty today; you’re making the ocean jealous.”

“We’re pirates; we don’t err, we arrr.”

“Treasure x’s are the only kind I’m interested in finding.”

“Home is where the anchor drops”

“A smooth sea never made a skilled pirate.”

“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.”

“Don’t look to closely at the water.”

“Books are my silver and gold.”

“Individually we are a drop, but together we are an ocean.”

“Parrots are way too cliche.”

The Chess Princess

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Once upon a time there was a lovely princess who lived in a lovely castle with a lovely library and a lovely king who was her father. 

This princess lived her days out happily, reading in the library, playing in the gardens, and (her most favorite activity) playing chess with her dad. 

But alas, a time came when the king died, leaving the queen behind to take care of the kingdom. Now the queen was a beautiful woman but she wasn’t necessarily a leader. There were enemies eyeing them and their land with greed. Now would be a decent opportunity to strike. The queen had to do something fast. So she arranged a political marriage between the princess and the prince of another kingdom, uniting them both under one banner. Soon there after, the queen died some say if heart break and some say of just plain stress.. 

Now the daughter was very sad at the loss of her parents and her arranged marriage, but she soon realized this is what fate had in store for her. So the coming year, she was married, and then the next year, was crowned queen alongside her husband who was crowned king. 

They went on to have a daughter, named Iris. The king was disappointed, hoping his wife would have a boy, therefore producing an heir. However, after the daughter was born, the queen had miscarriage after miscarriage. It soon became obvious that this was to be their only child and heir. The king was very saddened at this however the queen did not mind, loving her daughter with the purest love a mother could ever offer. So while the king attended his kingly business and largely ignored his daughter, the queen would spend time with her in the tower playing chess with her and read her stories. She wished to give her twice the amount of love to replace her father’s. 

But tragedy then struck yet again. Iris’s mother grew ill and quickly died not long after the princesse’s 15th birthday. This hit Iris very hard, Locking herself away in the tower for days to mourn. But she soon found strength through memory of her mother. 

“Remember,” she used to tell her during their usual chess game. “The Queen is the most powerful piece in the board. You are the most powerful piece on the board Iris.”

And so, after a three days of solitude, Iris walked out of the tower, standing tall and brave. But still very sad. 

Her years leading up to her 18th birthday were lonely ones, only gaining joy from her occasional trips to the town market, her daily rides, and of course her chess matches. She played nearly every single person of the castle staff, and beat them too. She had perfected her game it would seem.

Solemnly, Iris walked the courtyard of the tower she would soon be living in in the coming weeks. It was a tall, towering building, casting a dark shadow across it’s mosaic stone courtyard. It was once part of a old castle but now only a few crumbling walls and the tower remained. 

Inside, the tower was rather plain with no decorations in its room but had some of the most beautiful architecture she had ever seen. 

Iris decided she would not mind living here that much. Especially if she got to redecorate. But she supposed that hardly mattered as she would be only here as long as it took a prince to complete her test. 

So she began to think. But her thoughts began to swirl of her looming future marriage to a stranger and her controlling father so she stopped and opted to hide in the castle library and stare at her chess set, wishing horribly that her mother was there. She fiddled with the lovely stone pieces, tracing the shape of the knight’s arched neck, the pawns round top, when she was suddenly struck with an idea. 

“Always be the strongest piece on the board,” her mother’s voice echoed. 

“Don’t worry, mother,” iris whispered. “I will be.”

All night iris worked feverishly. Sketched after sketch she drew of her idea for her test. So when the morning came her eyes stung and she was utterly exhausted. But she did not rest- time was awasting!

She hurriedly ran down the castle stairs and into the courtyard where she met the black smith. She showed him her blueprints and sketches and of her idea. She asked him if he would help (she would pay him handsomely of course she added)

The black smith complied and began work as she requested. As the week dragged slowly on, the Princess was scarce, checking on the black smith constantly and sometimes even rolling up her sleeves and helping with the work herself. They were loosing time. The end of the week was near. 

Part of her doubted that they were going to make it. But on the fifth night her handmaidens and servants told her that they knew what she was up to. They told her to not to worry- they had not alerted her father of her activities. Not only that, they had heard through the castle gossip that they had fallen behind and they all wished to help. 

So That evening a group of young servant girls showed up at the black smiths forged with aprons and their sleeves rolled up and ready to work. And that night they finished. And early!

And then the seventh day came. 

The king demanded to see his daughters test for he had suitors waiting already. 

Iris led the king to the tower’s checkered tile court yard and gestured for him to look. 

Set up on opposing ends of the court yard arranged on the alternating squares were giant, metallic chess pieces. The pieces were giant, roughly about a head taller than most men though hollow so they could be pushed and moved with ease. There was a set of white pieces on the end closest to them and a set of black further away. 

“What on earth-?” The king began. 

“It’s my test,” iris explained. “Whichever suitor can beat me in chess may get my hand in marriage.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the king responded. 

“It’s my test,” the Princess pointed out, refusing to back down. 

Finally the king agreed, thinking that surely some prince would beat her. But he was very very wrong

Game after game iris would crow those wonderful words, “checkmate!”

A week went by and the suitors began loosing interest and went to find other princesses with easier tests. 

Iris’s father was angry at first but there wasn’t much he could do. He had to abide by his family’s tradition.  

And so iris spent the next 10 years in her tower, and sometimes venturing out into the forest and generally led a peaceful life. 

It wasn’t long after those ten years that the king opted to retire and step down from the throne, becoming sick in his old age. 

And so iris, now completely grown and ambitious, volunteered to take over. The people agreed unanimously- she was to be their queen. 

Being so wonderful at chess led to her being a excellent tactician during war time, defending and conquering when needed. So the kingdom knew an era of peace beneath the chess princess.  

Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write: Obliviated

~ Brooke F. ~ Leave a comment

Obliviated

I wake on a hill, the sun’s rays piercing the black. The grass is soft on my bare arms as I turn my head slightly to observe my surroundings. It seems I’m in a meadow of sorts, with little yellow flowers dotting the landscape. The golden light of the dawn falls upon the serene grassland.
I swivel my head to my left and find another face of a young man, sleeping as I was. I then came to the realization that I was clutching something.
I sit up quickly and find I am gripping this strange boy’s hand. He is about as old as I was though I am not exactly sure what age that is. In fact, I have no memory of how I got here.
I let go of the boy’s hand and pull my knees to my chest and press my face against them, a sad feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.
It had happened again.
I throw my head back and groan, complaining to the heavens, though I doubt they hear as they’ve never listened before.
“Why?” I utter.
I would tell you my name but I don’t know that either. But whoever I am, I live in the world of Anamnesis, that much I know. In this land, we are under a cruel curse. Every year, on the last day of Summer, we forget everything.
Every person we knew, every experience we had, and every moment worth remembering. However, knowledge of this curse plagues us no matter how many times we forget.
We try to make the best of things, however, as much as one can. We meet people that we have probably met before and explored the landscape and the kingdoms around us once again.
I don’t know how long this world has operated this way. I don’t know how old I am or how many times I’ve forgotten but somehow, myself and others alike since its been this way for a long time, further frustrating us.
Long ago we would hunt and search this planet for answers. We dreamt of a day when we could remember. But when we turned up empty-handed and the sunset on the last day of summer once more, we grew tired and gave up on our questions being answered.
Now we rise on the first winter morning and try and seize as much as we can with the time we have. My people build one year long kingdoms and empires but they all eventually fall away. So the kingdoms Anamnesis fight wars and siege each others castle for what else can they do? Can we not enjoy the next year since it is all of no worth since we are incapable of remembering? What other purpose is there?
I smooth the edges of my sundress and look a the position of the sun as it rises higher into the sky. I glance down once more at the figure beside me before moving to stand. I probably knew him at one point. In fact, if I spent the last day of summer with him, he must have been special to me. Too bad I didn’t remember.
I quietly began moving away from him. It was easier this way. Now to find a town or a kingdom to-
“So you’re just going to abandon me?”
A whirl around as I’m greeted by the sight of the boy sitting up and smiling at me.
“Why not?” I say, shrugging dismissively. “I don’t know you.”
“Not anymore I guess,” he said turning his face towards the sun and holding a hand to shield his eyes. “Such a shame.”
“A shame indeed though it hardly matters, does it?” I say as I begin to fiddle with my loose, amber hair.
A breeze lilted through the meadow, rustling the boy’s hair.
“It can matter if we want it to,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’d introduce myself but-”
“I know, you don’t have to bother explaining,” I turn my head and search the horizon for a sign of a building or a person. I didn’t usually find myself this secluded. I was pretty certain that the other times I’ve woken there was a town or kingdom nearby.
“Well, there’s no use in us not being able to address each other,” The boy was still talking.
“I guess not,” I say, staring at him blankly. Why was he still here? Just leave, it doesn’t matter!
“Good! Glad you agree! I guess it’s up to me then!” he says, his smile growing wider.
“What’s up to you?” I query.
“To give you a name!”
“What?!” I exclaim. “I didn’t give you permission to-”
“How about Rebekah?” He offers.
“What? No-”
“You’re right, to outdated,” he puts a hand to his chin and squints at me. “Hmmm… you don’t look like a Natalie,” he speculates.
I cross my arms, giving him a skeptical look, but remain silent for the moment. I’m actually curious as to what he’ll come up with.
“Ah! I’ve got it!” He announces. He then bends down and plucks a small yellow flower from the earth. “Chrysanthemum!”
I consider it.
“I don’t haaate it,” I tilt my head slightly in thought. “Though it is a mouth-full.”
“Fine, then we’ll just call you Chrys for short!” He says, placing his hands on his hips proudly. “Now your turn!”
“My turn?”
“Yeah! Give me a name!” he beams.
“Do I have to?”
“Pretty Please?” He begs.
“Fine,” I concede. Then I look him up and down thoughtfully. The gears in my head begin to turn, thinking of the possibilities.
He is rather tall, with slightly curly and unkempt brown hair. He is pale and his skin is speckled with light freckles. His eyes, as far as I can tell, are a greenish hazel color. He is in simple commoner clothes with a white tunic and brown breeches. As my gaze reaches his feet, I realize, to some surprise, he’s barefoot.
“Judging by your attire, you weren’t anyone of great importance,” I think aloud.
“Oh, that hurts me,” he says in mocking offense. “It really does.”
“I’m just saying to don’t exactly look like a King Rupert,” I explain.
“Well, I’m not getting any younger,” he says as he begins to tap his bare feet against the earth. “At this rate by the time you decide, we’ll forget again.”
“Haha,” I say in a monotone voice. “Now hush so I can think.”
I pause a moment more before saying, “Emeric.”
He mulls the name over for a second longer before saying, “Could be worse.”
“Okay, now that you’re satisfied, can I go?” I don’t even wait for an answer as I turn and start off to… wherever I’m going.
“But where are you going?”
The voice comes directly from behind me and I turn to see Emeric right behind me.
“Why do you insist on continuing to bother me?”
“I just wanna tag along,” he says, feigning innocence. “Besides, you don’t know where you’re going and neither do I. Why not walk together?”
“Want me to provide you a list?”
“Must be short considering you don’t know me,” he mumbles.
“That’s at the top,” I tell him.
“Yeah, yeah, your loss,” he continues to trot behind me, seemingly unaffected by my protests. “You must have been a whole lot nicer when you knew me.”
“And you must have been a lot less insufferable,” I retort.
“Being insufferable is part of my natural charm,” He informs me with a sniff. “You should consider your past self lucky!”
“You know, we could have been just good friends,” I suggest, avoiding eye contact.
“Somehow I doubt it,” he huffs. “But, as you said, it hardly matters.”
We continued walking and came to the edge of the meadow. Here it met the treeline of a thick forest with tall clustered trees.
We halt for a moment, eyeing the thick foliage.
“Onward I suppose,” Emeric says.
I glance down at his bare feet.
“You sure?” I ask.
“It’s sweet and all that you’re concerned for me but I’ll be okay,” Emeric remarks snarkily before striding into the forest.
“Idiot,” I murmur before beginning to trek behind him.
“You know,” He says, pushing a branch from out of his face. “You don’t have to walk behind me.”
“I prefer to so you can knock down all the spider webs,” I say with a grin.
“Hey-ack! Phbbbtt,” He begins to spit and gag and a let out a loud laugh, the sound echoing throughout the once silent wood.
“So what do you think you’ll be this time around?” I call up to Emeric, trying to strike up a conversation.
“Who knows,” I can see him shrug with a quick movement of his shoulders. “Pastry chef, stable boy, fisherman,” then he looks back at me grinning. “Maybe even a king.”
“Good luck with that,” I smile.
“How about you?”
I think for a moment, the only sound to be heard is the crunching of leaves and branches beneath our feet as we continue walking.
Then I speak, breaking the silence.
“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. “I haven’t the foggiest notion of what I was so I’m pretty much am working with a blank slate.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Emeric points out. “Just be thankful you didn’t wake up in a jail cell or something like that.”
“I jail cell might be preferable compared to waking alongside you,” I tease.
“Harsh words, little girl,” He laughs. “Better be nice to me, or I won’t give you a job in my bakery or my castle?”
“So you’ve narrowed it down? King or pastry chef? Choose wisely.”
“Oh, I will,” Emeric gives a low chuckle. Then he suddenly stops in his tracks, causing me nearly to collide into his back.
“It seems we’ve reached the edge of the wood,” Emeric says to me. “And our destination is just in sight.”
I walk over to his side and look. Before us lies a valley, green a lush filled with a kind of purple wildflower. I can hear bees buzzing as they go from flower to flower. A stream runs no more than a few yards away, trickling deeper into the valley. And, just barely visible against the blue horizon, houses.
“A village,” I say. “At long last.”
“It’s not too far off,” Emeric says. “And its all downhill from here.”
“Praise the Gods,” I huff.
“But, looks like we’re going to have to get a bit wet,” Emeric eyes the stream. “But nothing we can’t handle.”
“Well, come on then,” I say, striding forward. “Our future awaits!”

Snapshot: The Fourth Week of April

~ Brooke F. ~ 2 Comments

Quarantine has kept everyone home for the past five weeks. At first it was boring, but I am very glad that I have a home in which I like to reside. We have been taking on a bit more chores and yard work as we now have the time to tend to such matters. Today, my dad came home with a tractor and a plow which he had borrowed.

Usually, my mom would be tilling up the garden with a tiller this time of year only to have it break half way through and my dad would have to find time to fix it. It would not be a happy evening.

But with this plow, the blades slice and turn up the dirt quickly and effortlessly. It does turn out rocks however, so me and my siblings have to run along behind it and pick them up and throw them to the sides of the Garden to be collected later. But it’s not miserably work- the wind is blowing and rustling through the grass and trees, making for a cool work environment. And the dirt feels so nice on my bare feet, coming up to my ankles, chopped fine by the plow.

Then my sister begins singing off key, picking up rocks as she practically yells the words:

I’m on my way
Driving at ninety down those country lanes
Singing to “Tiny Dancer”
And I miss the way you make me feel, and it’s real
We watched the sunset over the castle on the hill

I don’t think I mind this farm work quite as much.