Writing

Finding Something Called Christmas

This little writing exercise came up as published on this day (here’s the original post)…and I wanted to share again, to celebrate the time of year!

🎄❄️🎅✨🎁🎄❄️🎅✨🎁🎄

She had never felt so frustrated or lost in her entire life. She was supposed to find something called “Christmas” and the wizard had failed to give her a map, or any sort of reliable directions, or even a well-worded hint or two.

Now, she was stuck in this frigid land, where everything was white, except the sky, that was black, all the time, with no idea where to go from here. She had been wandering for a while now, and she didn’t know how much more she could take. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, she tripped on something, and went flying face first into the ground. If it hadn’t been so cold, she would have lay there for a good long time, thinking about her miserable existence, and the worth of her life.

Instead, she sprung up, spat out a mouthful of snow, and because she had nothing better to do, she looked around to see what had attacked her. Something poked out of the white mound, not enough to distinguish what it was, just enough to show there was something more than just snow there.

She bent down, and dug around it. It took quite a while, for more of it kept appearing as she shoveled with her hands, but eventually, she had it laid bare. In the eternal starlight of the far north, it had a sort of forlorn, haunting aspect. It was a large sleigh, or had been in its former life. Now, it was missing a runner, and the front looked like crumpled aluminum foil. Hanging over the bent bar in the front, was a gruesomely grinning skeleton in a red suit.

🎄❄️🎅✨🎁🎄❄️🎅✨🎁🎄

I hope everyone is having a delightful holiday season!

❤ DragonBeck

“His Pout Is A Crystal Gift”

The Ink Slingers Guild do a fun writing exercise every fortnight to improve our wordsmithing – it takes about 4-8 minutes per round, and gets the creative juices flowing and limbers up the mental mechanisms in charge of word play. Sometimes, it becomes a game to get all the words in the first sentence, but the result can be a little ridiculous.

pout, crystal, gift (my word), 

“What’s the password?” the voice hissed from behind the tiny hole in the door.

“His pout is a crystal gift,” Taden whispered, cringing even though no one was around to hear him utter that ridiculous phrase.

The whole thing was absolutely unnecessary to the point of being paranoid, but Aurelion wouldn’t let him in if he didn’t play along. There was a click and the hole disappeared, but then the door opened.

“Quickly, quickly,” the voice urged him, and Taden had to speed his last step before his heels got closed in the door.

Inside the room was dim, and he squinted around. “Aurelion?” he asked.

“Don’t say that name,” the voice said sharply.

“What’s wrong with your voice?” Taden said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“It’s just a precaution.”

“So it is you then,” Taden said. “That’s a relief. What if you were an impostor?”

A long silence told him Aurelion was taking his question very seriously, and Taden sighed. “It was a joke,” he said.

“This is not a joking matter,” Aurelion said. “Do you have the final ingredient?”

“Of course,” Taden said, and held out the small sack filled dirt.

It was snatched out of his hand and then the vague figure that was Aurelion scurried into the back room. Taden followed, and choked on the acidic fumes coming from the bubbling cauldron in the center of the room.

____________________________________________________________________________________

❤ DragonBeck