Please help me welcome Fake Name as the winner of a round 22. Nia Wolfe, will have his/her piece returned
to the pool for a chance at re-selection for a future bout, or he/she has the
opportunity to submit a new writing sample. Make sure you check my WRiTE
CLUB 2012 results page for a breakdown of all the winners so far, along
with links to all of the writing samples.
We're cutting straight to the chase today.
Here are this rounds randomly selected WRiTER's.
Standing in the far corner, weighing in at 444 words, please
welcome to the ring……..Writer On The Storm.
Talia flushed with embarrassment as if she failed someone
without knowing why. "I have looked and asked and only receive short
answers."
Mert nodded in understanding. "I understand. Really, I
would have been surprised if you found anything at all." She adjusted her
feet and tucked them underneath her. "You know of the Faceless Woman
then?"
Urgo broke his long silence with a laugh. "The children's
tale? The creature meant to send children to their beds in shivers?" He
laughed again, wiping his eye. "Yes, I know of her. Should we get into our
sleeping areas as you tell us her tale?"
"Urgo!" Amethyst warned.
"You don't believe her, do you Amethyst?" He
looked at her with enjoyment and surprise.
"Go on..." Amethyst told her.
Mert shook her head. Talia noticed deep disapproval and
sadness in her eyes.
"Children's tales to you now. A harsh reality that
predicted the fate of the Gifted for others." Mert continued. "She
was a student once. It was during the the time we actually trained the gifted,
instead of turning them away or making them into products of manipulation for
our own sense of purpose."
Mert looked at Urgo as she continued. "You forget the
age of your elders, young man. So much of the truth in history can be lost over
hundreds of years." She looked down at her hands. "Especially among
the tight lipped authority figures."
"What happened to her?" Talia asked. She should
have stopped her from continuing further. She should have ordered them to bed.
To just continue their journey in the morning without this conversation. And
without the Master of Power to join them. But she didn't.
"She was Gifted, like you. During those times we were
careful on what we taught the Gifted ones. Many of the Master's of Power were
against teaching them about the darker powers at all. But we knew that would
only encourage the Gifted to learn it more. So, we gave them just small
spoonfuls of the power and learning how it's used. And she just ...overwhelmed
herself with it. Determined to learn all she could."
Talia heard her heart thud in her chest. The words rang so
familiar to her. Words she had said herself.
"What happened next?" She prompted.
Mert shut her eyes before she continued. "She yearned
for more. She learned how to steal the power from others and leave them empty
inside. And then there came a point when the Masters of Power knew it was time
to take steps to protect our world and others from further damage. And that's
when the head Master of Power came into my office one day..."
*******************************************************
And in the other corner, weighing in at 495 words, let me
introduce to you ……..Blue Cookie.
I peered up through a tangle of blackberry canes. Dusky
little birds hopped among the brambles above me making the dead inner
leaves quake.
Lying on my side with thorns snagged into my snow-white
dress, I couldn't move. My bare arm dribbled lines of blood that tracked down
between my breasts. The pain from those and a hundred other punctures
rushed in on me. “Help!” I yelped.
Where was Silas?
Yesterday, I left home from an old Victorian near Golden
Gate Park. It’s pretty shabby. I have to duck through the doorway fast in
case a bit of gingerbread falls.
I settled at a table at my favorite coffee shop with a cup
of tea prepared in the English style, with milk. Setting most of my
newspaper on the seat next to me, I pulled out the comics section. A man sat down
on top of the rest. He was an aging biker type – long reddish hair with a
mustache trailing down his cheeks. I shifted away.
“Any Earth shaking news in there?” He leaned forward so his
laced leather vest squeaked.
I frowned over the top of the comics. “The Red Baron shot
Snoopy down.”
The man set his elbows on the table. “That’s from World War
I. He must be a vet. Me too.”
“Schultz is dead.”
“I got shot in the left buttock. Lemme show you.” He twisted
in his chair, pulled his pants down to a precarious midpoint and pointed
to a white puckered scar. “See it?”
I snapped my teeth back together and stammered, “You must
have been very…”
“I’m no hero. It was my buddy that did it.” He chuckled. “He
got reassigned to a desk job damn fast.”
“That was probably a good…”
“When I lay in the ward after they dug that hunk o’ metal
out of my ass, it occurred to me that I coulda died. I had, whaddya call
it, an epiphany.”
I stood up. “It’s been very nice to meet you.”
He stood too and offered his hand. “Silas.”
I hesitated, then put my hand in his. His large fingers
cradled mine. “I’m more glad than you know, Miss…?”
I looked into his earnest eyes. “I’m, uh, just call me
Betty.”
He eased me back down to a seat.
“Where was I? Oh yeah, the epiphany. I thought then I had to
know God. I’m not the churchgoing type, so I did for myself. I swore to
read the Bible three hours every day. You should try it, Miss Betty.”
I cracked a smile. “It’s not my cup of tea.”
His eyes grew wide. “But it works. After I got discharged I
wanted a bike real bad but funds was scarce.” He glanced around like he
was about to impart a hot stock tip and lowered his voice. “I bet you
never met anybody that got a loan for a Harley before.” He seemed to be holding
his breath, waiting for me to answer.
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