In Search Of Answers Draft 1 #amwriting

The World was deserted almost as far as the eye could see, save for the Wolf Flower brambles which covered every inch of ground, and grew as tall as the girl's chest. The Waste, as the region was known, was impenetrable thanks to the deadly toxins contained in the sap of the petrified plants - only someone with Kora's skills would have been able to move through this valley and survive. She had been travelling for six weeks now, and her only company, save for the plants, was the occasional mob of Smallhawks, like the ones hovering expectantly over head now, noisily encouraging her to part the scrub and allow them access to the tasty vermin which scurried oblivious to the danger waiting.

It was late in the afternoon and although there was a chill wind in the air, the sun was warm on her back, and she still had the cloak that Olwyn had given her. A tatty looking thing now the material was mostly patches over patches, held together with little more than hope. Kora wrapped it tightly around her slender frame as much for comfort as warmth.

The dry earth squeaked and crunched beneath her feet, and the Wolf Flower branches groaned like rusted hinges on long forgotten doors as they parted, leading her toward the town coming in to view on the horizon. She could see them now - the multi-coloured mishmash of buildings on the horizon. She had been warned of the dangers. No one could tell her what kind of reception she might receive here - a young women travelling alone, she may not be safe; almost certainly she wouldn't have been safe at home, but she continued on, compelled. The answers she was seeking, must surely be here somewhere. What had happened to make these people forsake her Home, leaving it to the dust? Why had they broken the agreement? Why had no contact been made and what would it take to rekindle the much needed relationship?

She didn't increase her pace now as the buildings drew closer. 'I'm just out for a stroll' she reassured herself, The wind was blowing her dark hair across her face in time with the waves she could now see breaking on the shore. She hugged the cloak a little closer, taking in deep breaths of the cool air as she tried to calm her frantic heart. She could make out details on the buildings now. The town stretched out long and thin along the coast, buildings reaching up to the sky. It seemed that she had found the far end of the town, with more buildings to her left than to her right. She was grateful for this accidental twist of fortune. Although she had ostensibly grown up in the Capital at home, the though of walking into the midst of a bustling metropolis in this unknown land had made her very uneasy. This way, she would hopefully be able to identify someone in authority all the sooner, so that she could begin her return journey and get back to some kind of normality.

There were as many as ten floors to some of the narrow structures. They looked like the clay building blocks the children played with at home, precariously balanced, leaning against each other for support. There were narrow gaps between some of the structures, giving Kora her first glimpse of the Lake she had heard about in her history lessons, but had never thought actually existed. And yet, to all intents and purposes, that was what she was seeing. A vast expanse of rippling, mirrored, blue.

She took another steadying breath, shifted her bag on her shoulder, and moved forward.

I Remember... #amwriting

I remember it well. It has been over 100 years, but still the image is burned in my mind, the day of fire and flood. Watching from the boat as the village disappeared, not once, but twice, and then forever. You could see the high-rises even as far from land as we were. They were standing to attention along the shore, side by side, like children lined up for inspection by their teacher. And so many children there were, playing, learning, sneaking out to play.

A few, like us, had taken the afternoon off to go fishing and we had just thrown our nets. As the ropes fell with a gentle 'shhh' across the still water, so they came. The flames. Cast with so little care, ensnaring our little village, from east side to west. The school, the flats, the shops, the fishing towers, the small quay. The trees, the scrublands, all instantly transformed into a jolly, dancing, waving orange torrent of heat and pain and screams. People ran from the buildings, like fleas jumping from a diseased rat, hundreds of people, some strangers to us, some family and friends, all trying to reach the shore to stop the burning.

No sooner had they reached sanctuary of their sacred Lake, the water rose up against them, a benevolent parent standing to scoop up a wobbling toddler, so the sea met them and took them. Within minutes our home, our little peninsula had been razed to the ground and then sunk. We caught not just fish that day.

Emma said...

Emma said that I was imagining things. John said that there was nothing odd showing in his records. They were both clever, honest, reliable people. Friends as much as colleagues, I had known both of them for years and we had risen through the ranks together. But somehow they had missed this glaring, screamingly obvious gap. It was unsettling, and did make me start to question what I had found and why none of the other department heads had spotted it.

The Girl - Draft 3 #amwriting

I had, of course seen her earlier that day in the market, but I was so rushed to get back to work that I barely noticed anything beyond her short stature, and unusual accent and dark hair which marked her out as being decidedly 'not local'. Why was she asking about the Wardens? What had she noticed? Where had she come from? In the bar that evening I was kind of surprised to see her there. That she had read my note and accepted my suggestion to meet. Of course she didn't know who I was and as I ordered my drink, she was focussed intently on the notes in front of her, so utterly absorbed that she didn't notice me, staring.

The Girl - Draft 2 #amwriting

She was focussed intently on the screen in front of her, so utterly absorbed that she didn't notice me, staring. Thinking about it now, I was quite blatant as I sat across the office, drinking in the utter glory of her. She was flawless. Not a wrinkle or blemish dared to touch her warm, faultless skin. I wanted to reach over and run my fingers over her lightly flushed cheek, to know how perfection would feel, but my hands, which were as rough and splintered as a carpenter's by comparison, would have been an insult to her.

My eyes fell to her plump red pout, and it was like a cushion to my soul. Soft, full and the same deep claret as the blood I could feel stuttering in my veins. Unconsciously she was pursing her lips as she worked, like tiny kisses directed at the images I knew she was manipulating.

Her dark-lashed eyes darted back and forth from her note book to the screen, utterly absorbed in the task at hand. I wanted her to look up. To see me. To cast that dark gaze my way, but I knew instinctively that one look from her would be deadly, that I would be lost in those deep brown pools. Oh, but it would be like drowning in the smoothest, richest cocoa. Intoxicating and deadly, but delicious nonetheless.

She had no idea I was fixated on her long, slender, graceful fingers as she left- and right-clicked the mouse, making it dance across the desk. A frown flitted across her face, resting briefly like an agitated bird. She waved it away, bowing her head slightly, allowing a heavy wave of silken, inky black hair to flow across her hand, falling back to brush her narrow shoulders. She shook her head minutely, sending ripples through her mane which echoed the tingling feeling coursing through my body. The movement of her hair created a turbulence in the air that seemed only to reached me, but I felt it deeply, vibrating through my core and leaving me gripping the edge of my desk for stability.

I sighed and closed my eyes, resting them from the ache of watching her. Maybe I had imagined her? Maybe now I'd broken my trance I might have ended the spell and she would somehow become less luminous, she would suddenly blend in with the very ordinary fabric of the open plan room. I blinked. She was still there. I don't know what I had expected, but in the split second I had looked away she seemed to have gained gravity, taller now, more defined. She was suddenly more real than anything else in the building; as though someone had allowed a panther into the chicken coop and I was the only one who had noticed.

I should have paid attention, I should have sounded the alarms, called for help. I was beyond reasoning when it came to her. If only I'd listened as my amygdala cried out for me to run. Maybe I could have saved us.