The Gold Bullion

Wrote this in year 7

Although the sliver of light that shone in was grey, it was a magnificent sight. Gold bullions were stacked rows upon rows gleaming in the dark. In the cavern, Aztec symbols, appearing to be a warning, were inscribed against the wall.
An opening threw wide open, allowing snow and wind to cover the ground with a thin layer of ice. An amorphous figure obscured the light from the door. It was colossal. As the light slowly dimmed, the silhouette morphed into a recognizable form…it was a polar bear.
Lumbering nearby, three explorers walked in the cavernous den, seeking protection from the bitter cold of the polar island of Ragnarok. Decoding the symbols, they concluded that the place was a divine sanctuary. They lit the area with candles, oblivious to the gold hoard and the polar bear nearby, and ate a bland survival pack in the frigid, Stygian, underground chamber. It was not an ordinary sanctuary, however, for it was a place of torture; it was a sacrificial chamber.
Every 100 years, Ragnar would return, reborn from the ice, to guard the sacred gold bullion. Ragnar would tear to pieces all who enter the holy lair. Times have changed. A new adversary marked a new era in world domination – Ingavar the dragon, born from the ashes of a volcano, was to battle Ragnar. Ingavar was to use the power, locked within the gold, for the use of Gwillana the evil sorceress.
Ragnar growled, alerting the men. Cautiously moving back against the wall, the explorers readied weapons. Suddenly, the candles blew out, extinguishing the light. The door opened, a gush of air surging in, and weak sunlight streamed into the cave. The light was partially eclipsed by the dragon Ingavar.
Ingavar streaked across the den, lunging straight towards Ragnar, and the duel began. Ragnar grabbed Ingavar’s wings and threw him towards the door. Flapping his dragon wings vigorously, Ingavar kicked against the door, toppling over boulders and blocking the only way out. The men were trapped. Only a few beams of light shone through. Ingavar threw one of the men at Ragnar which ripped the man to pieces. Disgruntled and confused, Ragnar found himself on the ground, struggling to get upright. Seeing that one of the men tried to help Ragnar, Ingavar pounced on the man and incinerated him; all that was left of him was a pile of ash! Ingavar lunged at Ragnar; caught off guard, Ragnar struggled. Ingavar started inhaling, about to incinerate the polar bear. Suddenly, the last of the men sprang towards the melee and severed the dragon’s head, killing Ingavar instantly. Blood spewed everywhere. The man saved Ragnar.
Ragnar stood up shakily, having nearly lost the battle to an ancient beast of terror. Ragnar gave one of the gold bullions to the man. The man sighed, dug his way out of the cave and lumbered away from the cave. He knelt down, placing the gold brick in front of him, and closed his eyes. A dense fog enveloped and enshrouded him; after the haze cleared, he was no longer there… Walking away, Ragnar vanished, leaving a pile of snow behind, ready for another battle a hundred years in the future.

-M(P)

Downtown - Everything's Waiting For You

Downtown - Everything's Waiting For You

Nancy wiped away the mist from the bathroom mirror and gave herself the evil eye. Her blue eyes kept that icy stare for a few moments until a raised eyebrow ended the standoff and back came her usual wide, dazzle-the-world smile.

“Hey you, why so serious?” she spoke to her reflection. “Don’t you know you’re going downtown?
She grabbed her hairbrush and sang into it ‘Petula Clark’s Downtown’:
“When you're alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go, downtown,
When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry
Seems to help, I know, downtown
Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city
Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty
How can you lose?”
Soon, she was out of the bathroom and changing into street clothes. Then she walked to the window, pulled aside the curtains, leaned forward, and gave a little gasp. New York City was certainly a sight. She had arrived in the city that morning. Nancy, who had spent all her life in rural rocky mountain Montana, was now in the Big Apple. The neon lights spread out before her and each one twinkled and beckoned to her…
It was 13 July 1977. The date held significance to Nancy – for it was also her birthday. And this day, this year, held all the more significance for her, for it was the day to a brand new start. She had moved from her native Montana – the majestic mountains, green pastures, and azure lakes – to the hustle and bustle, the energy, the pulsating heartbeat that is New York City. She had always yearned for the vibrant high life and the world of fashion. New York was the answer.
As Nancy bounded downstairs from the apartment building, she continued her song –
“The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares
So go downtown, where all the lights are bright
Downtown, waiting for you tonight
Downtown, you're gonna be all right now”
Nancy took in everything she saw as she walked along the street. She looked forward to a great night. Overhead were the bright lights of lamps, buildings, and shop signs. Cars honked all around her. A red-faced man poked his head out of his car and waved his fists angrily at a yellow taxi.
“Watch where you’re going, you lousy bum!” he yelled.
Red-Face’s spittle hit Nancy in the face.
Along the sidewalk, people shoved and jostled each other. Nancy was manoeuvring her way through the people, a little flustered. By this time, she had stopped her singing. She stopped in front of a corner store and breathed in the stale steamy air.
All of a sudden, everything around Nancy was plunged in darkness. Gone were the bright New York lights, and for a few brief moments Nancy was back in Montana again. Montana at night was quiet and peaceful, and only stars dotted the night sky.
Nancy waited, and waited. Soon, distressed voices and pleading cries rose from the streets. In the distance, Nancy made out the silhouette of a mob. They swept through the streets, shattered car headlights, and plunged New York deep into pitch-black darkness…
Nancy’s heart was beating wildly, fear gripped her – she had never experienced such panic and violence before. She looked for a place to hide…any place so she could hide! All around her, pandemonium pounded and hounded the city streets. Fires started. Once again, New York was lit, only this time with fiery bonfires. The arsonists whooped and danced about like wild flames of an inferno that licked against the dark shadow of the city.
Nancy looked on as a group of men with baseball bats broke the glass of a shop window and they started to loot the store, as they carried off televisions, stereos and all sorts of appliances. Nancy stood in astonishment, a witness to mobs going berserk, police officers chasing looters, and so many looters carrying away their prized booty.
In every street corner, sirens wailed. Fire engines tried desperately to subdue the raging blaze caused by arson. Nancy met havoc at every turn. People were running wildly around her, pushing and shoving. It had been many hours since the blackout started yet Nancy still scampered about, aimlessly. Earlier that evening, she was looking forward to a sumptuous dinner in one of New York’s fine restaurants. But now, she felt extremely hungry and thirsty. For the first time in her life, she had realized that she could die in the midst of a great city, not only out of being mugged but also out of hunger. She felt that this metropolis turned out to be a jungle as well as a desert, a place where she could die of thirst, while the mob stampeded like a horde of wild animals in the city streets. She saw a group of men helping themselves to some boxes. She could only hope that the boxes were drinks. Nancy picked up one of the boxes when someone grabbed her from behind!
“All right, that’s enough, you’re coming with me,” a firm voice spoke to her.
She screeched, squirmed, and tried to get out of the grasp… Hours later, giddy and dazed, she found herself holding bars – she was in a cell. Bewildered and confused, Nancy soon realized that she had been arrested as a looter.
“Let me out of here!” she yelled.
There was no answer.
“Please, let me go!” she cried, “I didn’t do anything!”
“Yeah right, you and every other looter out there tonight! Now shut up!” a voice answered her through the dim corridor.
Nancy sighed and leaned her head against the bars. In the distance, Nancy could hear music playing. She strained her ears and felt a sickly sensation of recognition. The song was ‘Downtown’.
“We can forget all our troubles, forget all our cares,
So go downtown, things'll be great when you're
Downtown, everything's waiting for you…”

-M(P)

Be Careful What You Wish For

A story of exactly 366 words - commemorating the leap year in 2008.

The events leading to her death were curious, and it began with a wish. Sam was never athletic so there had been no surprises when she was playing volleyball at school and a ball hit her head, making her, yet again, the centre of ridicule. Laughter reverberated around the gym. Ashamed, she brushed her hair to cover her face.
“Wish I was good at volleyball,” she inwardly groaned. For the rest of the day, she was mocked by her classmates.
The next day, Sam had volleyball again. The ball flew in the air, aimed at Sam. A renewed strength came over her; she struck the ball perfectly and astounded everyone as she scored. She smiled as she realised her whim came true. A thunderous silence pervaded the tense atmosphere. Sam declared that she was better than everyone else was, angry with her classmates for treating her so badly. Rather than gaining respect, she lost it. Then the laughing started again.
She sobbed, “I wish everyone’d disappear!” She closed her eyes, tensed for a moment and opened them.
The gym was empty.
Sam realised that her wishes were coming true; after a few pensive moments, she declared, “I wish I could go back in time and change everything.” She closed her eyes; a moment later, she opened them.
She was in the middle of a battle. Never has she seen so much bloodshed before. Seeing a signpost, she ran up to it, tears streaming down her face. In bold letters, it said one word: Waterloo. Fear grew within her as she realised what had happened: she went back in time to the Battle of Waterloo.
It was clear that one of the armies was losing. Sam shouted, “I wish you’d stop fighting!” The losing army didn’t stop, didn’t understand. The winning army stared vacuously, kneeled down and surrendered. The French army quickly dispatched the English army. She had gone back to the past and changed everything.
She yielded and went with the French army; the French honoured her for helping with their battle. It was then when she was offered frog’s legs in a victory banquet that she replied, “I’m vegetarian – I’d rather die,” that she died.

-M(P)

Random Poem "Ideal Pastime"

The Ideal Pastime

Flowing writing, a different world:
Vicarious travel, imagery whirl.
Characters sneeze, characters snooze,
Enjoying the buzz, away with the blues,
A classicc a comedy, a horror or two,
A war story…spy! Non-fiction ones too!
Let’s go with the flow and relish the glow –
Catching the hue with just words to show.
Animals here, animals there,
Like the full Noah’s ark – they’re all everywhere!
The ideal pastime – reading a story,
Indulging yourself, savouring the glory.
So go and get one now – have a real good look:
And put your feet up and read a good book!

-M(P)

Taking a walk on the WILD SIDE!

This is from the headline + photograph task, if you want real writing please scrolllll away!


ONE FINE SUNDAY during the safari season of January 2018, I decided to TAKE A WALK ON THE WILD SIDE! and visit my local church to see the famous Jesus Christ of that tropical area of the world Bethlehem (possibly in Wales), as preached by Rvd Penelope Artimis of Jerusalem.

Imagine my shock (and possibly delight and/or mortification) when I discovered a church of the heat and atmosphere of a large sauna, palm trees in the aisles, a zebra playing the organ to an almagamation of ABC and the Star Wars Theme YES!
No wonder 70% of Britons consider themselves Christian. They come for the religion and stay for the piña coladas.

---
Brought to you by Tor, stay tuned for the next episode of JUST A MINUTE Ashby Creative Writing Club! Yes!

Seasons’ Greetings

Seasons’ Greetings

Spring silently creeps
Between buds and branches,
And gilds the newborn leaves.
All colours are bright and spirits are high–
Blossoms against an azure sky.

Then the summer sun glows,
Like melted butter over the hills
And soon bleeds over the horizon.
Unspeakable light and beauty
In hushed and heated undertones.

Soon, autumn winds come rushing in
While brown red and amber leaves swirl along.
Through the autumn mists the winds persist–
Whispering through scarves their mournful song.

In a moment, the last leaf will fall,
And soon the snow will cover all.
The fickle snow that flies so fast,
Like winged white stars come falling past.

Here is the mystery of mysteries,
One that never ceases to amaze:
Is that wondrous sight the fickle touch,
Of the ever-changing beauty of Nature’s face.

-M(P)