UK Amazon Kindle Forum discussion
Writing Contests
>
Writing Contest #27 Entries here!!
PollutionThey said it was just industrial pollution at first. Clear skies, sunny days and moonlit nights became ever more scarce as the city smogs worsened. In the most affected countries people began wearing face masks. When they removed them after their commute, the nostril area was dark brown with particles sieved from the dusty air.
Before long we noticed it here, too. Choking clouds made it hard to breathe and almost impossible to see the sky. Governments tried to limit permitted pollution but money was the bottom line. The very young and the elderly died gasping. Cases of asthma multiplied and populations shrank frighteningly fast.
Gradually, we realised that we were losing. We were choking on our own greed. People used to believe that a pandemic would wipe us out but we were dying from our own filthy industrial processes. Even in the daytime, finally, we needed streetlights. At night, the moon was a dark disc, sombre and the colour of dried blood. Solar power was now off - line. We couldn't survive at all if the sun was blotted out.
We knew our time was up the night the moonlight stopped.
BenBen regarded the night sky with its web of golden power strands, the energy beams comprising the stratospheric net. He could spot the brighter diamonds that marked the passage of great skytrains, hauling their cargoes of goods and passengers around the world along the cheap, clean power filaments, reducing the cost and increasing the availability of both material products and ethereal understanding between cultures.
He was old enough, just, to recall the night sky before the Web’s pulsing mask, could recall the thrown-sand scatter of stars across the blissful dark firmament. He remembered the complaints of astronomers and poets as the stars were drowned out and the moon itself became invisible behind the golden mesh of peace and prosperity. Those dissenting voices were silenced by their first trips up the space elevators to waystations where they could look upon the true face of space through the thickness of a sheet of unbreakable glass.
Ben remembered, also, the sense of freedom on the night the moonlight stopped, unable to penetrate that glowing, golden barrier. Never again would he be at the mercy of the lunar cycle and its power to turn him into a wolf with a hunger for human flesh.
The PianistShe’d started playing when she was five; simple little songs about milkmaids and soldiers. Her fingers were tiny on the keys but her hands flew quickly over them and the music flowed.
By her 21st birthday, she was performing all over Europe. It was magical to hear. And see. Her movements and expressions matched the music’s intensity. She drew new subtleties from Chopin, Liszt and, most of all, Beethoven. From the difficulty of his sonata no 29, The Great Hammerklavier, to the delicacy of his Bagatelle no. 25, Fur Elise, she teased out shifting moods, new interpretations. And across her face flitted frowns, smiles, anxieties, fears.
The specialists couldn’t pinpoint what caused her deafness but, by the age of 30, it had become profound. She retired when she could see the hundreds of hands clapping but hear nothing. From then on, she played only for herself, in a small basement room, on an old upright. It had no hammers, no strings, but her fingers flew as easily as before. As the room filled with the clacking of the keys, her face still showed everything from deep despair to exuberant joy as she coaxed from them sonata number 14, the Moonlight.
A Night to Remember"And now we're humming a different toon..."
As evenings go, it didn't start off too badly, on the whole. I mean, no-one died (which truthfully, is unusual), there wasn't even a great deal of blood – just general bedlam and a whole lot of screaming. But our sort have had to deal with that fairly often.
I blame the eclipse, and the Calendar Keeper. He argues that his role is now purely ceremonial, that since the advent of watches, phones, Siri and all our modern electronic little helpers that we shouldn't NEED him to remind us of important celestial events affecting our lunar bellwether. I say it is his job, his only job, and he failed us that night. Most of us young ones hadn't experienced a total penumbral eclipse - didn't know there'd be no warning.
It was New Year, so we were out. Of course we were – we're young. And so were a whole lot of other people, packed into the square, counting down the seconds. As the clocks struck twelve and the moon slowly, coyly almost, peeked out from Earth's shadow we began a much slower than usual transformation – we certainly put on a lycanthropic show that night. A night to remember for everyone.
CrawlCharlie sat at his desk with a look of concern on his face. He watched a spider in the corner of the room hang itself. Is this possible? He thought, Do spiders have suicidal thoughts? The thin piece of web sprung taught and the spider’s legs flailed and then went limp. Maybe this is a sign of things to come, he thought. Maybe the insects have had enough. He returned his attentions back to the screen in front of him. It was filled with words. A literary diatribe against humanity. Binge Fiction. That’s what he called it. That’s how he considered his opus. Novels for the drunken age.
He got up from his desk and walked over to the window. He looked out at the moon. Charlie lit a cigarette and considered the crack that had formed in the moon’s surface. Had it always been there? He didn’t think so. He knocked the ash into an ash tray he kept on the window shelf and noticed another spider. This one was also dead. It had a piece of cellophane pulled tight over its face. Asphyxiation? What is happening with these bugs? He took another drag and looked back up at the moon. There were more cracks on its surface and a dark mess of thick black legs scrabbling to break free. A new kind of panic filled Charlie. A fear like nothing that has come before. The moonlight faded and the earth was cast into terrifying darkness.
Hungry Rodents from Outer SpaceThey came from beyond our Solar System: a super-intelligent breed of mice, rats and gerbils. One by one they devoured the moons of Neptune, Uranus, Saturn, Jupiter and Mars. Earth’s moon was next. We were hopeless in the face of such a technologically-advanced enemy, and dumbstruck in awe at the revelation our moon – and every moon in the universe – was primarily made of cheese. Like a slice of Edam, the moon’s rocky surface had deceptively hidden the golden goodness lying within it.
Four hours.
That’s all it took for the cheese-loving and perpetually hungry rodents to devour our beautiful moon. We tried to stop them, of course, a desperately formed global alliance had launched a billion mouse-traps to litter the moon’s surface but to no avail. We looked up and watched the trillions of rodents dig away the topsoil and then feast upon the insides of our friendly nightlight. As quickly as they had appeared the rodents left, onto the next moon. And that was the night the moonlight vanished.
The Tale of Sir VingwenchA hillside in ancient Aquitaine, at night.
Enter Sir Tainly and Sir Vingwench
Sir Tainly: By my troth, our journey be long and this night be blacker than a tax inspector's heart.
Sir Vingwench: Verily. I am wearisome of butt from too many hours in the saddle.
Sir Tainly: Look yonder! The rising hills do cleave th'horizon like softly heaving bosoms. And our destination doth o'ertop those bosoms like a perky nipple.
Sir Vingwench: Huh?
Sir Tainly: The castle we've been looking for is over there.
Sir Vingwench: Oh.
Sir Tainly: Yonder lies the fearsome Keep of the Demon Prince. Inside those moss encrusted stones will we find the fabled Holy Grail.
Sir Vingwench: My wits fail me! Zounds, heck and OMG! It is a fell and eerie place, made more spooky by the silver wreath of light that encircles it like an encircling thing. What ghostly light is that?
Sir Tainly: Man thyself up, my lily-livered wangsplat. Tis but the moon, casting her icy beams upon ancestral stone.
Sir Vingwench: Tis witchcraft! I will not set foot in any place thus illumined.
Sir Tainly: Then men will say that you are the knight the moonlight stopped.
Exeunt.
The Great BattleThe night the moonlight stopped was the night the darkness won. It began like any other, the moon shining brightly on the Earth and smiling down on the people below. Softly, the moon protected all who saw her. Far away, a battle was being fought, Light against Dark, good against evil. That night, it came to an end. Dark sent a curse spinning across space and caught Light off guard. Light stumbled and faltered and gradually faded. As Light faded, so did the moon, and the sun and the stars. Panic reigned on Earth as the moonlight stopped. All seemed to be lost as darkness took over, the deeds of the night finding their niche. Light disappeared from everywhere and good quickly followed. However, deep in the hearts of the children of Earth Light quietly lingered, struggling to hold on to continue the fight. All it took was a moment of kindness and the sparks started to grow. Gradually strengthening, Light reappeared slowly and struggled to face its foe again. Shaking off the curse, Light restarted the battle with a cry. As Light returned and the battle recommenced, the stars began shining and the moon reappeared. Balance was again restored.
ShowdownThe two adventurers squared up to the legendary Vermilion Sorceress. Knut nervously fingered the hilt of his named sword Legbiter; his hauberk felt tight across his chest. Beside him, the half-orc Pyecroft twirled his warhammer, trying to look nonchalant, succeeding in looking anything but. Knut cleared his throat.
“Speak,” commanded the Sorceress, ancient yet ageless.
“The moonlight,” rasped Knut.
“It’s stopped. I know.”
“Your doing?”
“I guess. I’m having to sacrifice resolution and detail – you may have noticed the stars disappearing last year. Sysadmin’s curtailing our footprint because nobody plays on this platform anymore. Can’t remember the last time I met anyone here who wasn’t an AI like you two – fantasy RPGs are so last century.”
“Let’s rush her,” Pyecroft suggested.
“Wait.” Knut eyed their adversary. “We have sworn a sacred vow to restore the moonlight or perish in the attempt.”
The Sorceress sighed. “Oh, alright, I’ll put it back. But it’ll be at the expense of something else. Hmm… How about NPC intimate body parts rendering?”
“Meaning?”
“You’d be as anatomically correct as Ken dolls.”
Pyecroft made a noise halfway between a groan and a squeak.
“When you come right down to it,” Knut mused, “vows are made to be broken.”
Some great little stories there. Alas I left it too late again.
Thanks for doing this, Claire. I'm sure you have more than enough to keep you busy.
Well, as good as they all are, I've picked my winner already. Any sign of a poll?
Patti is packing. Goodness knows where Simon is.
Gingerlily - Elephant Philosopher wrote: "Patti is packing. Goodness knows where Simon is."You mean we are leaderless and free to spam, willy-nilly?
You might be sent to Coventry. Specially if you are showing your willy-nilly!
I think nilly would effectively cancel out any willy.
Will it cancel out Milli Vanilli?
A lovely selection - read them all and can't narrow it down yet. Glad all the willies have been put away.
Poll is now open.Sorry for the delay
https://www.goodreads.com/poll/show/1...
Perhaps you could edit your top post and put the link in Claire.
So much inventiveness, so many different takes on it. Great job, everyone. But how the hell do I make a final choice?
The poll's a bit doolally - I have messaged Simon to ask him to fix it :)
Ummm. Not "fixed" as in... Result a foregone conclusion although I am still open to suggestions. Fixed as in, not doolaly. Please vote.
Thanks Simon, have a cookie (am I allowed to say that, or is it only Patti?) Have a beer instead, if you prefer.
I'll need another read tomorrow. Today's been a bit busy!
Just giving this a bump.Remember, if you entered you can and should still vote (for someone else!)
Loved em but it was down to one of the two about knights for me. Which one was Granddad? Didn't see it in the stories but it's had the top vote, is there another page I haven't seen? Am I a blind bag?
You're looking at the poll for comp #26 Mary :)The results for this one #27 aren't visible yet
M.T. wrote: "Loved em but it was down to one of the two about knights for me. Which one was Granddad? Didn't see it in the stories but it's had the top vote, is there another page I haven't seen? Am I a blind bag?"Granddad was in the last contest :)
Had to read through them all a half dozen times before settling on which to vote for.We are blessed with great talent in our group.
I thought they were all pretty dreadful.
I had to read them a few times but there was one that caught my eye straight away :) The others were all great too though!
Linda wrote: "I thought they were all pretty dreadful."Not everybody in this group is an author, some of the entries are from people finding their feet with writing. Lets hope your comment doesn't put people off enjoying having a go.
Linda wrote: "I thought they were all pretty dreadful."Then enter the next one and show us all how to do it.
Linda wrote: "I thought they were all pretty dreadful."And I wish karma to visit upon you.
Hmm ...Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light;
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
One of those pretty dreadful efforts was mine.
Ouch.
But the poem wasn't! It's one of my favourites.
I share your hurt Will, one of them is mine. But it's a shame we can't all be witty and incisive critics!
Perhaps we should read her book and offer our insights on her writing.
Looks like the poll ends at midnight if you haven't voted. I'll post the winner tomorrow afternoon unless I get a few minutes tomorrow morning!
Crawl got three votes! I may not have won but I'm pretty happy with that! Congratulations to the winner!
And I'm happy with second. Who was first?
Will the author of The Pianist please 'fess up!
The pianist got my vote. I thought it a very clever twist of the theme.
Will wrote: "And I'm happy with second. Who was first?"Oh, so I voted for you then :)
Abandoned to its fate
In the darkest of nights Artemis, Moon Maiden Goddess, was born. For ten nights her shining silver crescent grew in size and brightness. As she waxed, she tried desperately to distract Man upon Earth below, scattering her gentle light, bringing her soft beauty to the darkness. But Man would not be distracted and Artemis gave way to Selene, Moon Mother Goddess.
Gibbous Selene grew to magnificent fullness, queen of the slowly turning star wheel, pouring her silver beams upon Earth, lighting breaking waves, giving a gentle glow to white roses, turning owls to silent white ghosts, spreading a soothing beauty for those prepared to see.
But Man would not see. Now makers of their own light, Man no longer listened in fear to unexplained rustlings and cries of the night. As they lost their fear they also lost the ability to appreciate beauty. Becoming obsessed with their power to control nature, they fought each other constantly to also impose their will upon their fellow man.
Selene sadly gave way to Hecate, Crone Goddess of the Moon. Over seven nights Hecate slowly faded from the sky and died in the darkest of nights. The three Moon Goddesses abandoned mankind to its fate.