February 13, 2005


Here is my second fiction. I don't know what to make of it, I didn't really want to post it up here but I don't have anything to lose so here it is! Let me know what you think…OH! And any ideas for titles will be much appreciated…

The moon shone like a polished pearl as it sat upon the cloudless velvet sky. In the spectrum of her vision, Elaila saw the sky, black and clear as ink, merge with the earth encapsulating her in a weightless sphere. The moon illuminated everything, yet created more darkness in the shadows beneath the trees, those pools of nothingness which would devour any who strayed from the moonís gaze. Better to bathe in the light, Elaila thought as she gazed upward from where she lay on the cold ground. The woodland was young; the trees were barely ten years-old, but their distorted figures seemed so pained and aged. For a moment she imagined that she was surrounded by crowds of starving people, all reaching their pale, bony arms towards the heavens in a silent plea for nourishment and salvation. A blink and they became mercury sculptures, dancing in the moonlight. She closed her eyes once more and opened them to see the silver birches suspended in timeless static.
Elaila reached out to the nearest trunk and touched the silvery bark which looked like silk pulled taught around a pole. It was surprisingly rough against her sensitive skin, but the way it grazed her finger tips pleased her. She retracted her hand and hugged herself to savour the tingling feeling pulsing through her body. Senses heightened, she became aware of the utter stillness around. No sounds. No movement save her own. The silence pounded in her ears and became almost unbearable but she dared not make a sound to break it. Time might be started into motion again if she did that. She wondered where time went when it had been expended; what happened to the seconds that had been knocked out of sync by the driving seconds hand?
Elaila failed to notice the grass around her growing at an abnormal rate. The blades curved around her body and wove together to form a basket, cradling her. Time sped up and slowed, dancing amongst the stars, smiling down upon her; the grass grew fast and then stopped to hold her.
The pounding silence was making Elaila dizzy and she sank deeper into the grass cradle, closing her eyes. The pounding eased and as she relaxed, Elaila heard the silence begin to sing. It was faint at first, a dull note far off, but it grew louder and louder until the woodland reverberated with a dissonant melody that penetrated the core of each atom. Elaila could no longer keep her eyes closed and they shot open to see the sky, once so serene and clear, full of lights and shifting constellations. Orion was striding out from behind the moon towards Pegasus who was flapping her wings and swishing her tail. The seven sisters danced wildly in circles chanting horoscopes. Far away Galaxies could be seen expanding and contracting, revealing parallel galaxies on each expansion. The noise and the visual stimulation of the sky made Elailaís body burn with adrenaline, her muscles tensing and relaxing rapidly. The shadows underneath the surrounding trees were drawing her towards them by some powerful force. She glanced at them in awe and fright, and realised that each one was a black hole, willing her towards their space, wanting to own her, to crush her in their binding love. Silenceís song now echoes throughout the universe and each note moved Elaila into a deeper appreciation of the substance of her being. With each notch up the volume scale, Elailaís body drew further apart. The cells were separating, the atoms pulling apart to join the universal energy and suddenly Ė

– Sheís waking. The morphine is wearing off.
– Do you thing sheíll recognise herself?
– The plastic surgeon did his best.
– The crash was just so awful, and the burns, oh, the burns.

- 4 comments by 1 or more people Not publicly viewable

  1. I guess the ending justifies the excessive flourishes of the rest of the story, but I think you could cut a lot of the description, so that those adjectives you do keep have a greater impact. As it is, you slip into a comfy style eventually, but early sentences can be a bit much to take in, and the adjectives start queuing up for precedence. The idea, however, is worth pursuing. The last sentence is nicely ironic, as if you're saying 'NOW you see what I did. Ha ha! This is what I did.' With subtlety, obviously.

    13 Feb 2005, 19:15

  2. Interesting concept. The only problem with random fantasy is that it often has little driving it forward. I agree with Thom, it could be streamlined a bit. Perhaps the fantasy section could be reworked so that the dream has something she is striving towards, as it would give the narrative some thrust.

    I liked the ending, but perhaps rethink "Oh, the burns", it could be better expressed.

    Needs some work, but there is an interesting story here

    13 Feb 2005, 19:35

  3. Yep, well I like the fantasy bit. It's like having a bath in milk. If anything, the end needs work. It's a bit jarring. Unless that's what you were going for. I just think the transition between the two could be smoother perhaps? A gradual transition, rather than "and suddenly…" ??

    13 Feb 2005, 21:59

  4. Totally unrelated, but just looked at your MC ball photos! The "funny pissed dude" is Mike Arthur – maths geek (bless his heart) who lived with Jon (of Artus fame) last year and he's an all-round sweetie. But, yes, he was very drunk…
    And the random pirate is called Tim, if you didn't know (I think you might actually – forgive the patronising) and he's also a bit of a legend. He actually was dressed as Napoleon I believe… He turned up in a zebra-print jacket (knee-length) and, I believe, a deep purple velvet jacket in previous years…

    God bless 'im…

    Photos cool though – apart from the ones with me in, as I think I look a trifle drunk (hence out of control, hence untoned!)... Loads of the beautiful Anna though with her breasts!


    18 Feb 2005, 10:03

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