Flecks of Varied Colors

[Blog] The Caucus-race and a Long Tale :: Curious and Curiouser!

The Caucus-race and a Long Tale

Curious and Curiouser!

History can be boring. So, it’s up to you to spice things up for us. Pick any person in history. Write up a short story about this person with titles as ridiculous as “Ghengis Khan Gets a New Haircut”. In other words, make it fun! (<1000 words)

Rizal and the Lost Quill

Dr. Jose Rizal, esteemed writer, ophthalmologist, and national hero of the Philippines, was in a state of absolute upheaval. Gone was his typical stoicism, replaced by a whirlwind of frantic energy that seemed to crackle in the cramped confines of his cell. The source of his torment? His precious quill, his lifeline to the world of words, had vanished.

"Imposters! Philistines!" Rizal raged, his voice echoing in the grim prison chamber. His normally immaculate desk had been ravaged, transformed into a battlefield of scattered papers and overturned inkwells. Every crevice of his cell had been searched. His beloved books, once a source of solace, now seemed to mock him. Without his quill, they were merely mute witnesses to his literary paralysis.

It wasn't the physical quill itself he mourned, but rather what it represented. Each feather was a conduit for the burning torrent of his thoughts, a weapon expertly wielded against the oppressive colonial regime. He'd penned fiery novels like Noli Me Tangere, exposing societal ills with a surgeon's precision. Now, his weapon was gone, leaving him defenseless.

The specter of his final novel, the fiery sequel to his revolutionary work, loomed over him. Characters danced in his mind, their fates uncertain. Visions of his antagonist, the despicable Padre Damaso, gloating amidst mountains of unearned privilege, taunted Rizal to the brink of madness. The injustice! To be stymied so close to the finish line was unendurable.

"Have I been betrayed?" Rizal hissed, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Which of my so-called allies dares sabotage my work?" The guards outside his cell stoically ignored his tirades, long accustomed to the occasional outbursts from their brilliant but volatile prisoner. His accusations flew wildly: the guards, his beloved mother (God rest her soul, but misplaced sentimentality had no place now), even the cockroaches that dared scurry across his floor.

A frantic Rizal, ever the man of action, turned to the unthinkable. "I will make my own quill! Nature shall provide!" A flurry of movement ensued. Chair legs were inspected and discarded as too blunt. Stray threads from his fraying blanket were commandeered and dipped in ink, only to produce illegible blobs. The floorboards were scrutinized, but yielded nothing but splinters and a profound sense of desperation.

News of Rizal's plight slithered through the prison like wildfire, finally reaching the ears of the Spanish governor. This pompous, small-minded man, with a fondness for cruelty thinly disguised as amusement, saw a golden opportunity. Petty games were the only victories he truly enjoyed.

A pompous package arrived the next day, addressed to Rizal with mocking formality. Within, nestled on a bed of garish crimson satin, lay a dozen quills. At first glance, they looked perfectly serviceable...until Rizal's gaze focused. These were not the feathers of proud eagles, or even sparrows. They were the pathetic, molting remnants of what must have been the most miserable chickens in Manila. A final insult from the governor, a stark reminder of his supposed superiority.

Rizal could have crumbled under the mockery, wept in bitter fury. Instead, a perverse sort of clarity sparked within him. This absurdity, the sheer indignity of it all…it was fuel. Taking up one of the scrawny quills, he dipped it in the inkwell and, trembling with barely contained rage, began to write.

The words flowed in a torrent, sharper than any fine goose quill could produce. His defiance, honed by endless injustices, poured onto the page. The governor's petty cruelties merely sharpened his wit, his satire becoming a rapier thrust against the bloated heart of the colonial system. He would not be silenced, not by stolen quills or the weight of an empire. Laughter, Rizal realized, was the ultimate resistance, echoing far louder than any gunshot.

WORD COUNT:
620 Words

Action/Adventure Blog Fantasy Writing

[Blog] The Pool of Tears :: Où est ma chatte? ("Where is my cat?")

Gervic 0

The Pool of Tears

Où est ma chatte? ("Where is my cat?")

You are a stranger in a foreign land – try to communicate with the locals in an attempt to find your missing pet – short story. (<1000 words)

My arrival to this strange, new land wasn't the gentle awakening of a dream, but a jarring teleport into the unknown. The familiar sights and scents of my apartment vanished. Instead, I found myself adrift in a symphony of the fantastical. Trees impossibly tall stretched towards a sky painted with impossible colors, the air filled with birdsong that sounded like nothing I'd heard on Earth. Every flower, every creature, thrummed with an energy that was as beautiful as it was alien. But, worst of all, Cheshire – my feline partner-in-crime with his mischievous grin and swirling stripes – was nowhere to be seen.

Fear surged through me, a primal, gut-wrenching terror. But survival meant finding Cheshire, and that meant finding someone, anyone, who could help. I set off into the depths of this enchanted forest, following a barely-there path that wound its way through the lush undergrowth, hoping with every step that it would lead me to a village, a town, something.

And it did. The homes weren't brick and mortar, but marvels sculpted from nature itself – vast, interwoven leaves stitched with filaments of pure light. The inhabitants matched the wonder of their surroundings – tall, willowy beings with luminous eyes and skin textured like bark walked hand-in-hand with tiny, furry creatures bouncing with wide-eyed glee.

My intrusion into their world was a disruption, a note out of key with the symphony of life around me. I desperately wished for a shared language, a way to communicate the ache in my heart, the desperate longing for my feline companion. In my pocket, my phone felt both like an anchor to the world I knew and a useless hunk of metal in this foreign realm.

Then, like a lightning bolt, a memory struck. High school French lessons, long relegated to the dusty corners of my mind, seemed like a bridge in this chasm of communication. "Où est ma chatte?" I sputtered, the words thick and unfamiliar on my tongue. "Where is my cat?"

A ripple washed through the crowd, whispers and curious glances exchanged. My pulse hammered against my ribs – had they understood, even with my rusty accent?

Hands shaking, I fumbled for my phone. Its familiar weight, the bright screen, seemed a tiny beacon of the world I knew. I scrolled frantically through my gallery until I found it – a snapshot of Cheshire perched on his cat tower, his eyes bright with impish curiosity.

"Cheshire," I choked out, pointing at his photo, then at myself. "Perdu. Lost." For a moment I became an actor on a makeshift stage, mimicking his proud strut, the exaggerated swish of his tail, and then dissolving into a pantomime of confusion, a universal expression of bewilderment and loss.

Then, a change. One of the luminous-eyed women stepped forward, her scales shimmering like abalone. Her voice, an alien melody of trills and clicks, held a warmth that transcended language. She pointed with a long, graceful finger towards the dense tangle of the forest, an undeniable purpose in her movements.

Had she seen Cheshire? Hope bloomed, a fragile thing in the face of the impossible. I repeated his name, emphasizing his distinctive walk again. She nodded eagerly and motioned for me to follow.

I trailed behind her, questions swirling through my mind alongside a blossoming hope. I had no map, no guidebook, and little understanding of this magical place. But in this surreal world, kindness had cut through the language barrier and offered a path to follow. Perhaps this was the truest magic of all, and it fueled my steps as I ventured deeper into the unknown, a stranger in a strange land searching for my lost feline heart.

WORD COUNT:
615 Words

Action/Adventure Blog Fantasy Writing

[Blog] The Pool of Tears :: Drowning in Tears

Gervic 0

The Pool of Tears

Drowning in Tears

Create a blog entry (or static item) telling about the saddest event of your life. (<1000 words)

When Typhoon Rai violently ravaged my hometown. The devastation was immense, and my heart ached for my family far away. Cut off in another city, I felt as if I were drowning in a sea of uncertainty, news of the storm's destruction filtering through like whispered rumors. The mental images were torture – collapsed bridges, impassable roads strewn with debris, a world violently reshaped. Every tree trunk and fissure in the ground became a symbol of the potential danger my family faced. I was utterly helpless, suspended in a state of perpetual panic. Had they survived? I had no way to reach them, no lifeline to cling to. For two excruciating days, I was trapped in that limbo of terror.

Then came the crushing blow - our house was gone, utterly destroyed. Grief washed over me in waves, a strange mix of despair at the material loss and a profound, breathless wave of relief that my family was, by God's mercy, alive. They'd escaped, but our home, every tangible remnant of our life together, was reduced to rubble. My hope of returning to help them rebuild flickered weakly in the face of those reports of shattered roads and impassable terrain.

As if the typhoon itself hadn't brought enough sorrow, fate delivered another devastating blow a few months later. My body buckled under the weight of multiple illnesses. Covid-19, merciless and relentless, ravaged me. Each day in the hospital became a battleground, a struggle to simply draw the next breath. The world outside shrank to the four sterile walls of my room. Meanwhile, those merciless medical bills climbed with each passing day, a mountain of debt that threatened to bury any remaining hope of recovery. The money painstakingly saved for rebuilding vanished, swallowed by the fight for my survival. We even had to sell our cattle, a sacrifice that cut my family to the core, a testament to our desperation.

Yet, the cruelest blow wasn't inflicted by nature or illness. It was the person I believed would stand unwaveringly beside me, my partner, who cracked under the strain. When I needed him most, he shattered into pieces, fleeing from the weight of my burdens. The emotional agony of his abandonment sliced deeper than any physical pain, twisting the knife of betrayal in my broken heart. Loneliness descended upon me like a suffocating fog, seeping into the marrow of my being.

This has undoubtedly been the darkest, most challenging year of my life. Typhoon, illness, financial ruin, and the sting of abandonment – a relentless onslaught testing the very limits of what I can endure. Yet, somewhere deep inside, a stubborn flicker of hope remains. I won't let these misfortunes define me. Instead, they will forge me, if I allow them, into someone stronger, someone who knows how to cling to that tiny flame of hope when the world seems determined to extinguish it.

WORD COUNT:
479 Words

Action/Adventure Blog Fantasy Writing

[Blog] The Pool of Tears :: Curiouser and Curiouser

Gervic 0

The Pool of Tears

Curiouser and Curiouser

Stranger things have happened, so why not share the most curious thing that's ever happened to you. Alice would definitely empathize. (<500 words)

Walt Disney's Peter Pan and Tinkerbell ignited a spark in me, a stubborn childlike belief that they were more than just characters in a story. Their timeless charm made me imagine a world unseen to most. Back in my home province, amidst the lush greenery, I stumbled upon whispers of that magical world.

A monstrous balete tree loomed near our house, its gnarled roots and twisted canopy casting an ominous shadow. My parents painted vivid pictures of an invisible monster lurking within, tales of a creature with an insatiable appetite for lost children. Yet, even fear couldn't keep me away entirely.

One day, armed with fishing poles, my father, brother, and I ventured to the shadowed river basin cradled by the balete's roots. The silence was otherworldly, broken only by the whisper of leaves and the eerie creak of branches swaying in the breeze. Tiny birds danced and chirped overhead, a burst of life in that somber place. Suddenly, a glimmering, leaf-like object spiraled down, catching the sunlight that pierced the dense foliage.

But this was no ordinary leaf. On closer inspection, I realized I held a tiny, pointed wing—nothing like the rounded wings of the dragonflies I used to chase for my pet spider. Intrigued, I showed my father, but he dismissed it with a frown, urging me back to our fishing. I tossed the strange wing aside, watching it tumble and twist in the current, and as if on cue, my fishing line jerked violently!

That day by the balete tree is etched in my memory, a flicker of my childhood wonder. Though time has passed, I still cling to a whimsical belief in fairies. I've even had other encounters that seem to hint at their hidden world, but those are stories for another time. Imagine if they were truly among us, whispering secrets on the wind. We might take flight alongside them or discover a realm of pure, forgotten magic.

WORD COUNT:
324 Words

Action/Adventure Blog Fantasy Writing

[Blog] Down the Rabbit Hole :: Shutting Up Like a Telescope

Gervic 0

Down the Rabbit Hole

Shutting Up Like a Telescope

A new planet has just been discovered...by you! Describe this planet, its inhabitants, and what life would be like over there. Be careful now, as Dinah the Cat must approve. (<1000 words)

They called him Gervic the Dreamer, and not kindly. With his threadbare maps of phantom continents and his pockets bulging with chipped stones and feathers, he was a figure of ridicule in the age of steamboats and cold, hard facts. Yet, the whispers of dragons and undiscovered lands burned brighter in his soul than any hearth fire. His wasn't the life of a scholar or a merchant; he was a chaser of the horizon, the believer in the impossible.

The day his battered vessel stumbled through a shimmering rip in the fabric of the cosmos, he'd have forgiven anyone for thinking him madder than ever. Planets aren't supposed to shimmer like dragonfly wings, or have trees woven from emeralds and sapphires. The very air tasted of starlight and promises, and in the distance, a hill sighed, shook off a grove of silver-barked trees, and took flight on shimmering wings.

"Gervaise," he breathed, the name settling on the planet like a blessing, a tribute to himself – the one who found it, who believed when others scoffed. It was as much his as it was its own.

The Fae came first – sprites with voices like chimes, water nymphs with laughter that bubbled like brooks, and ancient, gnarled beings rooted in the ever-shifting earth, their eyes glimmering with the eons-old magic of the Weavers. They welcomed him, not with the suspicion of men, but with open curiosity. After all, hadn't this unexpected human arrived on a marvelously absurd vessel that belched smoke like a grumpy dwarf?

Here, on his Gervaise, treasure wasn't measured in gold. His first precious find was a song caught in the swirl of a seashell – a melody carried on a salt-laden breeze. Then came a feather from a cloud-bird, its touch infusing his dreams with the sensation of flight. With playful sprites, he wove a fabric from threads of sunlight and laughter, just to see what patterns they would create upon the shimmering canvas of the sky.

Of course, the whispers of a true hoard snagged at the explorer in him. Legend among the Fae told of the Gemstone Caverns, a place where the very essence of Gervaise's magic crystallized. Armed with stories and a satchel woven from moonlight, he ventured towards the ever-shifting mountains.

It wasn't about the wealth; it was about the wonder. Rubies bloomed from the ground, their hearts pulsing with a deep, red light. But they hissed with discord if he moved too quickly, and the handful he'd scooped up turned to dust in his palm. Sunlight hung ripe and golden, but it slipped through his fingers like liquid laughter – no earthly pouch could contain it.

He was ready to collapse in a heap of frustrated wonder when a sprite with eyes like polished amethysts found him. "See, not take," she giggled, leading him deeper. The true hoard held no coin, but experiences: tasting starshine in dewdrops, deciphering the patterns of a waterfall that told stories in its flow, learning to breathe starlight till his lungs glowed, ever so slightly.

Dragons? There was no scaled beast with smoke and flame. But there was a power thrumming beneath Gervaise – playful, unpredictable, as likely to sprout a shimmering castle as it was to turn it upside down. He felt it in the beat of his own heart, the sudden urge to build, to create, to chase the horizon even within this world of endless wonder.

When the portal pulsed back into being, it took every ounce of his strength to step through. The townsfolk flinched at the starlight still clinging to his hair and the song of a thousand rainbows humming beneath his skin. Let them call him mad, let them doubt the tales of his Gervaise. His pockets weren't full of coin, but of dreams made real - the warmth of a sunbeam in a crystal vial, the echo of a spritesong caught in a conch, the whisper of wind given voice. He was Gervic, the adventurer, the believer, forever changed by the planet bearing his name, the planet whispering back in the very beat of his wonder-seeking heart.

Here's a short profile of this magical planet:

Planet Gervaise

The Essence of Magic: Gervaise isn't just infused with magic, it seems to be sculpted from it. The very air shimmers with a soft luminescence, and the laws of physics bend and warp with playful whimsy.

Landscapes in Flux: The terrain of Gervaise is a kaleidoscope of transformation. Rolling hills can sprout feathery wings and take flight, rivers might flow upwards, and forests could be made of shimmering gemstones instead of trees.

Whimsical Weather: Weather patterns are as unpredictable as they are enchanting. One moment there might be a gentle rain of flower petals, the next a localized blizzard of shimmering lights, followed by a breeze that whispers secrets in your ear.

Inhabitants

The Fae Folk: Gervaise is primarily home to various Fae creatures. There are mischievous sprites with dragonfly wings, wise tree-ent-like beings rooted in the ever-changing earth, water nymphs who dance within the liquid landscapes, and many others, each more fantastical than the last.

Sentient Flora and Fauna: The animals and even some plant life on Gervaise possess a unique sentience infused with magic. You might encounter a talking toadstool with surprisingly sound advice, or a flock of birds that paint rainbows in the sky as they fly.

The Weavers of Magic: The most potent wielders of magic on Gervaise are a group of ancient beings known as the Weavers. They are elusive and rarely directly interfere, but their touch is felt in the very essence of the planet.

Life on Gervaise

Boundless Creativity: Life on Gervaise is a dance of imagination made manifest. Dwellings are grown from living vines, shaped into whimsical forms. Meals can be conjured from thin air, limited only by your culinary creativity.

Playful Exploration: Days are filled with wonder and exploration. One moment you might be learning the language of a rainbow-plumed bird, the next helping a colony of sprites build a fantastical city of dewdrops.

Harmony with the Unpredictable: Living within a landscape of magical flux requires adaptability. The Fae have an innate understanding of the planet's shifting nature and embrace the surprise and delight found within chaos.

Challenges

Logic Takes a Back Seat: Gervaise isn't a place for rigid planning or strict rationality. Things happen because they can not always because they should. Adjusting to this mindset is key.

Potential for Overindulgence: With the ability to create and transform easily, there's a potential for unchecked overindulgence which some inhabitants of Gervaise might struggle with.

WORD COUNT:
Story: 689 Words (Planet profile excluded)

Action/Adventure Blog Fantasy Writing

[Blog] Down the Rabbit Hole :: The Golden Key

Gervic 0

Down the Rabbit Hole

The Golden Key

You've come across a key that unlocks anything. Write a poem (<40 lines) or a short story (<500 words) about this most fascinating item in your possession.

My hand trembled as I held the golden key, its tarnished metal glinting in the dim attic light. It felt old, older than anything in the cobweb-draped space, and I sensed a subtle hum from it as if it held a dormant pulse.

The attic was where my grandmother stored all the forgotten things, a hodgepodge of steamer trunks, chipped china, and yellowing photographs. I'd always loved poking about up there, a little Indiana Jones in a dust-filled kingdom. But this time, the key had called to me, nestled in a velvet box that hadn't been there before.

No inscription, no hint of its purpose. Yet, I held it and whispered a silly wish, almost as a joke, "I wish this old lock would open." The attic's ancient padlock, rusted and immovable since I was a child, clicked. A shiver ran down my spine.

It couldn't be, could it? Curiosity overrode caution. I tried the key on everything I could – a worn suitcase, a grandfather clock that had long ago ceased ticking, even the attic door itself. They yielded, every one of them, as if the key was more a command than an implement.

Then my eyes fell on an old wardrobe, its wood scarred and dark. There was no knob, just two massive keyholes. My breath hitched. I fit the golden key first in one, then in the other. With a sound like an indrawn breath, the wardrobe doors swung open.

This was impossible. Beyond the wardrobe doors wasn't darkness and mothballed clothes, but a forest bathed in an ethereal golden light. The air smelled of wildflowers and damp earth, and the rustle of leaves was unlike any I'd ever heard.

Heart pounding, I stepped through the wardrobe.

The old attic with its familiar dust and shadows were gone. I stood in a woodland glade dappled with sunlight I couldn't see filtering through the trees. A path wound away, beckoning, and an overwhelming sense of rightness filled me. It was like all the questions I'd ever held had settled, the answers waiting just around the next bend.

The air hummed again, and I realized it wasn't coming from the key, but from me. As I turned the key in my hand, it vanished with a faint shimmer, dissolving into me.

It wasn't the key that had unlocked this world, I realized. It had unlocked something within myself. And now, all I had to do was walk the path.

Attic's heart, where shadows dwell,
A golden key, a trembling spell.
Dust of ages, whispers low,
A tarnished gleam, a pulse to know.

Cobwebs cling to treasures lost,
Grandmother's trove, by time embossed.
Young explorer, spirit bright,
A whispered wish, in fading light.

Ancient lock, a rusted sigh,
Yet yields to touch, beneath the sky.
Curiosity, a tempting flame,
Key in hand, and rules untamed.

Suitcase worn, and clock's still face,
The key commands, in boundless space.
Wardrobe looms, with secrets deep,
Two keyholes sigh, as hinges weep.

A world beyond, in golden beams,
Wildflower scent, and whispered dreams.
Heart aflame, a path unfurled,
The attic fades, a vanished world.

No turn of key, but spirit's flight,
The shimmer fades, in newfound might.
The key dissolves, a truth unsealed,
Power within, forever revealed.

Word/Line Count:
Story: 411 Words
Poem: 24 Lines

Action/Adventure Blog Fantasy Writing

[Blog] Down the Rabbit Hole :: The Antipathies

Gervic 0

Down the Rabbit Hole

The Antipathies

Alice believed she would meet these folks who walk with their heads downward if she keeps falling. Write your own adventure of discovering such a place. (<1000 words)

The air whistled past Gervic’s ears. It wasn't the panicked rush of his initial fall, no, but the wind that whispers of a long journey. It was almost…peaceful. It had to be hours by now, maybe days even. Since the rabbit hole, since the tears, since… well, he'd lost track of time entirely.

Suddenly, the air thinned, the light changed. There was a tug of something familiar, something like gravity flipped on its head. And then Gervic was tumbling, head over heels, eyes wide, landing with a thump.

“Oomph!" He sat up, blinking. Above him, where the sky should have been, was a ceiling. A ceiling of dirt and roots, the light filtering oddly through them. He wasn't outside anymore, but in a gigantic cave of sorts.

A giggle, high-pitched and sharp, echoed around here. "Look at him!”"

Gervic whipped around. Two children stood before him, identical but mirrored. Their hair was dandelion yellow and their eyes were uncanny green. Most importantly, they stood upside down. Their feet pointed to the dirt ceiling.

"Welcome to Down Under," the smaller one said with a cheeky bow that nearly toppled him over.

Down Under? Of course! Gervic had wondered if he'd come out on the other side of the world, but he'd never suspected it would be quite this literal.

“I'm Gervic,” He managed, still disoriented. The children beamed, and then – with a strength far belying their size – hoisted her upright, so he stood just like them, toes to the ceiling. It was dizzying, a bit nauseating, and…well, kind of exhilarating.

“I'm Topsy, and this lump is Turvy,” said the larger twin. “You'll be staying with us for now. Follow, and don't poke anything glowy!"

What followed was a whirlwind tour. Down Under, it seemed, was a vast network of caves that mirrored the world above, but topsy-turvy. Here, trees grew upwards, roots like tangled hair against the ceiling. Glowing mushrooms dotted the ground, bouncing light against rivers that flowed overhead. Gravity was a mere suggestion. Topsy and Turvy bounced along the ceiling with the ease of squirrels, Gervic trailing clumsily behind, catching himself on branches and roots whenever he faltered.

Their world was a bizarre contradiction: familiar and alien all at once. There were creatures, too, some he half-recognized – owls that hung like bats, squirrels that scuttled upside down, their tails held high. Even the other inhabitants were upside-down versions of people he might find above-ground, though the way they laughed and walked without a hint of nausea was truly a sight to see.

Topsy and Turvy regaled him with tales of this strange land: the Nightlights that glowed in the deepest caves, the upside-down waterfalls, the ever-present danger of a curious creature called the Jabberwock.

Days turned into a strange sort of week, then blurred entirely at the edges. Gervic found an odd comfort in this upside-down place. He even managed to walk along the ceiling with a bit of grace, though he'd never master the way Turvy could flip and spin in midair.

Gervic learned to eat with his head hanging low, to read books propped on the ceiling, and to sleep curled like a spider in his little corner of the cave. At times, there was a pang of longing for the Right-Side-Up world, for his quiet life and his sister. But Down Under…it was a wild, topsy-turvy magic he'd never dreamed possible.

Until one day, when the air shimmered, the light shifted, and Gervic felt his stomach twist.

“Time for you to go,” announced Topsy with a strange note of finality in his voice. “A portal back Up Top, happens now and again.”

Before Gervic could process this, the world was swirling around him. The pull of gravity returned, normal and inevitable. There was a sharp tug, and then he was falling, but this time with sunlight streaming into his open eyes.

He landed on soft grass, a tangle of disoriented limbs. His world was right-side-up once more, and perhaps a bit less brilliant. But then, he thought, his hands coming up to touch the dirt, the grass, so strange after so long in Down Under –perhaps a little topsy-turvy was in his blood now, in his laughter and in the way he looked at the world ever after.

Word Count:
Story: 727 Words

Action/Adventure Blog Fantasy Writing

[Blog] Down the Rabbit Hole :: Follow the White Rabbit

Gervic 0

A. Down the Rabbit Hole

Follow the White Rabbit

Write about your participation in this project/activity, and what you hope to gain from it once finished. (<500 words)

I've always had a soft spot for the written word. While poetry has been my primary outlet, the lure of longer narratives has always lingered in the back of my mind. When I stumbled upon the Wonderland writing/blogging activity, something ignited within me. Perhaps it was the promise of a productive year or the inspiring words of the "Letter to Myself" ("Dearest Me") – all I know is that I had to be a part of it.

As I embark on this writing/blogging journey, I have a few goals in mind that extend beyond just completing the activity:

Expanding My Writing Horizons: The Wonderland activity is the perfect opportunity to stretch my writing muscles. I want to craft longer narratives, develop complex characters, and experiment with different story structures by the time I reach the finish line.

Discovering Diverse Voices: One of the things that excites me most about Wonderland is the prospect of connecting with other passionate writers. I want to immerse myself in the stories and styles of my fellow bloggers, seeking inspiration and learning along the way.

Sharing My Voice: Participating in a community project like the Wonderland activity offers a precious chance to become a more visible part of the blogging world. My hope is that by sharing my work and engaging with others, I can build meaningful relationships and gain wider recognition for my writing.

I'm fully aware that this journey might have its challenges. Finding time, maintaining consistency, and battling the occasional bout of writer's block – these obstacles may arise. But I'm determined to overcome them. This activity is about more than just the finish line. It's about self-improvement, collaboration, and leaving my mark on the blogging community.

If you're a fellow writer or a curious reader, I invite you to join me on my Wonderland journey. I'm excited to share my growth, learn from others, and together, we can make this an unforgettable and productive year!

A world of words, a curious sight,
Wonderland beckons, bathed in light.
My pen, the key, unlocks the door,
To tales untold, and so much more.

Poetry, my comfort zone, I leave behind,
Longer tales and characters in my mind.
The White Rabbit whispers, "Follow me,"
Down the hole, where my voice breaks free.

With every word, my skills take flight,
Narratives woven, day and night.
New voices call, like Cheshire's grin,
Inspiration sparks, a journey within.

The Mad Hatter's tea party, a writer's feast,
Where ideas mingle, creativity released.
My name echoes softly, carried by the breeze,
A budding writer amongst the literary trees.

Though challenges lurk, like the Queen of Hearts,
Doubt and writer's block, their cunning arts.
Through the Looking-Glass, a clearer view,
My determination shines, forever true.

This Wonderland quest, a gift so bright,
Words take shape, with newfound might.
Beyond the finish line, my story awaits,
A writer transformed, where potential creates.

Come, fellow dreamers, let's fall hand in hand,
Into this world where words command.
Together we'll grow, our voices ascend,
The Wonderland journey, may it never end.

WORD/LINE COUNT:
Article: 324 Words
Poem: 28 Lines

Drama Poetry Romance Writing

[Poetry] Love Ends

Gervic 0

Source: Stylecraze.com

Love Ends

Each night, tears drip hastily down from my eyes
Interrogations crowded my mind, these unanswered whys.
We have been together for almost half a decade
Then in an instant, you confessed that your feelings fade.

Days and nights, I found myself contemplating
On what I've done wrong to deserve this feeling.
I've been faithful to you since the day we've met
Oh I've loved you, how could you forget?

Did you find someone else who cares you more?
Someone who will always have an open door
When he knows what secret that you've been hiding
Truth that in four years, I have been heeding.

I've endured those days that you've gone away
To a distant place during my darkest day.
I've always forgiven you for your lame alibis
And just let them drift away with my thousand sighs.

Perhaps, now is the time for me to say farewell
Despite this pain, I still wish you're always well.
My love for you is now put to an end.
I just don't know how long my heartaches mend.

Drama Poetry Romance Writing

[Poetry] Second Chance

Gervic 0

Source: Wallpaperflare.com

Second Chance

It's been a while since the day we parted
Yet I still remember that moment you left me broken hearted
In sleepless nights, my pillows drenched in tears
My mind seemed lost, my days were engulfed in fear.

I never know how I could ever move on
The thoughts of you haunt me on and on
I always found myself in a daydream
That you're still by my side, so it seems.

Years passed and I can say that I'm now okay
Though in my heart and mind you will always stay.
The pain I feel now is lighter than before
Pain that penetrated deeply within my core.

When things are started to become right
One day, you came back and appeared to my sight.
My heart beats fast, the fire inside aglow
I think that I still love you so.

Then you asked me for another chance
My mind is hesitant but my heart seems to dance.
I'm afraid to accept you and take the risk again
'Cause I never wished to suffer the same pain back then.

Love Poetry Romance Writing

[Poetry] Granted Solace

Gervic 0

Granted Solace

It has been a week now since the day you came
And yes I just knew you in some concupiscent game
Yet since that moment your eyes met mine
When our heartbeats collided, our hands entwined

This feelings grow and conflagrates like fire
And casted away the pain from a heartbreak prior.

I haven't been this happy, I tell you my dear
You've vanquished my sorrows, my worries and fear.
You've never felt even the slightest repugnance
And knowing this, my heart seems wanting to dance.

That promise you said that you will always be there
Is a granted solace, in my every night's prayer.

Oh how I felt relieved at this very moment
From bearing that fraught conscience, a week's torment
Finally I had found that courage to confess
The secret I've been hiding that put me in distress.

Though I was frightened to tell you at first
Cause I expected that things will be worst.

Your acquiescence put me in so much ease
Your acceptance put my boggled mind at peace.
I'll forever treasure this and emblazon deep in my heart
And I promise to be faithful and I'll do my part

From now on until the end of time,
So let's together trod in moments sublime.

Letters Personal Writing

[Letters] Dear Me 2024

Gervic 0

Dear Me,

The scent of possibility hangs thick in the air, a January breeze carrying whispers of the year yet to unfold. As I write this on January 7, 2024, I can't help but feel a curious pang of excitement. You, standing a year from now, are already a seasoned traveler on the path of 2024, your heart etched with the joys and trials it has brought.

Right now, I see you at a crossroads, dreams shimmer like mirages in the distance, half-formed ambitions tugging at your heartstrings. But fears, too, cast long shadows, echoes of past stumbles and uncertainties. Yet, dear self, the dance of fear and possibility is what makes life a breathtaking tango. They are two sides of the same coin, shaping, challenging, and ultimately propelling us forward.

So, take a deep breath and step into the unknown. Remember the lessons learned in 2023, the moments where vulnerability birthed strength, where resilience bloomed from adversity. Hold onto those memories like embers, ready to ignite the fire within you.

Here are some whispers from your past, guiding lights for the labyrinthine corridors of 2024:

Unleash your inner artist.
Let your creativity be a symphony, whether it's painting a canvas, crafting a story, dancing in the rain, or building something beautiful. The world needs your unique brushstrokes, your voice unfiltered and raw.

Nurture your garden of relationships.
They are the fertile soil where your soul blossoms. Invest time and love in those who make your heart sing, who hold your hand through life's storms. Forgive freely, love fiercely, and let go of the weeds of resentment.

Know the power of no.
It's not a rejection, but a boundary, a line drawn in the sand to protect your sacred energy and time. Saying no to things that don't align with your values creates space for the things that truly matter.

Silence the inner critic.
That voice of doubt? It's just a scared child, desperate for approval. Listen with compassion, then gently guide it towards self-acceptance and love.

See stumbles as stepping stones.
When you fall, don't wallow. Pick yourself up, dust off your knees, and learn from the experience. Every misstep is a whispered lesson, guiding you towards a clearer path.

Celebrate the tiny triumphs.
Life isn't just about reaching the summit; it's about savoring the climb, the quiet moments of joy that sprinkle sunshine onto your days. Take time to smell the blooming flower, savor the warm cup of coffee, the laughter shared with loved ones.

Be kind to yourself.
Perfection is a mirage, a cruel illusion. Embrace your quirks, your vulnerabilities, the threads that weave the beautiful tapestry of your being. You are worthy of love, of joy, of success, just as you are.

Dream wildly.
Let your imagination soar beyond the confines of the ordinary. Dare to chase audacious goals, to paint your future with vibrant colors of hope and possibility. Remember, the only limits are the ones we create in our minds.

I know we've got some exciting goals for the year, so I wanted to put them down in a way that feels less like a list of demands and more like a collaborative roadmap. Here's what's on our minds:

Writing & Blogging:

Newbie Nurturing:
Let's keep up the awesome work with Writing.Com newbies! Aiming for two reviews per week for 10 newbies sounds perfect, but remember to adjust the pace if needed. Your support is invaluable! Also, The StoryMaster introduced the 7 days of Review Achievement Merit Badge, might as well take advantage of that. That way, you not only help inspire your fellow writers but also reward yourself for a review streak. Start giving out quality Anniversary Reviews and be one of the Most Active Reviewers of the site.

Blog Blast-off:
Let's reignite your blogging fire! Writing.coms's member hosted blogging challenges sound like a great way to get back in the groove. Your readers at Flecks of Varied Colors Flecks of Varied Colors

are waiting for your unique voice again!

Expanding Horizons:

Beyond Poetry:
You're a master of the verse, but why not try new forms? Storytelling, novel chapters, even NaNoWriMo - the possibilities are endless! Let's stretch your creative muscles together. Finish your novel draft "Love in Quarantine"

and revise some of your old Short Stories.

Blog Boost:

Traffic Treasure:
Let's attract more readers! Brainstorming blog topics that resonate with a wider audience will help us build a bigger community around Flecks of Varied Colors.

Personal Projects:

Poetry Power:
Don't let that collection gather dust! Let's polish it, refine it, and make it shine. Who knows, publication could be just around the corner! Revise most of your old compositions and as much as possible, write a poem a day. Get inspired by the awesome prompts of "The Writer's Cramp"

, and who knows, you might get rewarded.

Relationships:

Heart-to-Heart with the Fam:
January 24th will mark half a year with your love! It might be time for a heart-to-heart with your parents. Your siblings' acceptance paves the way for open communication. Remember, they deserve to know the real you. On a side note, I am so glad that you were able to recover quickly after a painful heartbreak from your past relationship. I think it's best to let your parents know that you already found the love of your life.

Financial Forays:

Investment Expansion:
You're making smart moves with online business, but don't be afraid to explore higher-risk ventures. Calculated risks can lead to bigger rewards. Remember, we're in this together!

Health & Wellness:

Savings Superhero:
Keep up the fantastic saving habits! It's a marathon, not a sprint, and your future self will thank you.

Weight Warrior:
Mirror, mirror on the wall, let's find a healthy weight for you after all! 52kg might not be the ideal number for your age and height. We can find delicious and nutritious ways to reach a weight that makes you feel strong and confident.

Doctor Do-over:
It's been a while since your last checkup, so let's get a professional's perspective on your weight gain and overall health. Multivitamins can be a great daily boost too!

Gadget Detox:
Technology is amazing, but sometimes we need a break. Let's limit screen time, especially before bed, and give your mind and body some much-needed rest.

Sleep Sanctuary:
Eight hours of sleep sounds divine! Let's adjust your routine to prioritize a healthy slumber cycle. You'll be amazed at the difference it makes.

Work Wonders:

Work Ethic Warrior:
You're a dedicated employee, but let's be honest, sometimes distractions creep in. Prioritizing tasks and minimizing procrastination will help you clear those backlogs and earn that end-of-year reward. Remember, you've got this!

Attendance Ace:
Let's aim for perfect attendance this year! It's not just about the reward, it's about showing your commitment and professionalism. Every little bit counts!

Remember: This is a guide, not a drill sergeant! We'll adjust, celebrate, and support each other along the way. Let's make this year one for the books, filled with progress, laughter, and achieving all the amazing things we're capable of.

And finally, dear self, remember this: you are enough. You are worthy of love, of joy, of success. Believe in yourself, trust your intuition, and let your inner light guide you through the shadows.

I can't wait to meet you in a year, to hear the stories you'll tell, to see the person you've become. Until then, walk with courage, embrace the unknown, and know that I'm always here, cheering you on from the sidelines.

Cheers to us!

With love and anticipation,
Gervic