From underneath the stunted gorse bushes which bordered the stony beach a pair of slightly clouded eyes peered out trying to focus upon the movement just on the waters edge. Alert for the moment, should he look to fight or edge back further under cover to avoid detection? Tense seconds passed, his breathing slowing to the barest minimum required to draw oxygen into his old, tired body. For all that he could remember his life had been thus, caught between the need to fight or flight, a constant battle in a land that he still could not bring himself to call home even though his whole waking life had been spent here. The flock of oystercatchers burst as one into the air wheeling away to feed upon the sandbanks in the distant estuary, satisfied that nothing else was encroaching on his resting place, Maili lowered his weary head to his paws and drifted back to his fitful sleep in the pale evenings sun, his mind drifting back to the horrors of his youth and the beginning of the journey which had finally brought him to this place of peace. His feet kicked involuntary as the memories of journey drifted across his mind, memories of great sadness, fear, pain but also of the joy of finally belonging and of knowing that he’d reached the journeys’ end.
He started again, but not because of any noise in the still surrounding air, but because he’d thought he could hear the lullabys that Ciqala, his mother, had crooned to him during the terror of the cages. This was his earliest memory, of blinding light from the overhead false Suns, the soothing warbling of Ciqala as she calmed him from the screams of the ones that had been taken from the cages, never to be seen again. There was never darkness, just the false Suns’ glare and the iron smell of blood seeping from a place out of their sight and comprehension. Once again Maili lowered his head allowing the visions that his mother’s song brought forth wash over him, for the time being chasing the memories of the cages away.
8 comments:
Great stories! I cant wait to go through all of them! I have to say that your writing technique appeals to me. Thanks for allowing us all to enjoy them!
Leigh,
Thank you so much for your kind words, when I’m trying to write something other than the light hearted musings on my other blog I tend to worry much more about what people think and are they enjoying the stories (and do the stories flow and/or make any sense). It’s really great for me to get such positive feedback.
Best regards,
John
A little sad, but very well written. Great insight and when you can make someone "feel" something, like compassion for the animal, then it is definitely good. I'm glad you directed us to this page! :)
Hi Karen,
Thank you for the kind words, this fictional story is, how shall I say? ah that’s it – under development, so hopefully I’m on the right path with it. There is one other story, this from taken my childhood (perhaps with rose tinted glasses), on the earlier posting on this blog, not sad I promise.
Regards,
John
Need not worry about other people. When you cast all doudt aside and write from the raw heart, the story nolonger is just a beautiful well written story but becomes something more. It becomes a place of magic and mystery, like an abstract vision into the writers soul.
As my English professor once said, "when one writes from the soul it allows readers not to just digest a great story but also allows them to take pieces of the writer away with them as well." ...or something like that.
Cast the doudt aside! Superb job!
Coming from you Leigh, that is high praise indeed, thank you.
Continue onward with your prose, John. It never disappoints
Wolfy
Cheers Wolfy, you're just to kind.
John
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