Entries tagged as bloggy moms writer\'s workshop
FOUND
This is my response to this Bloggy Mom's Writers' Workshop Challenge -
A strange envelope arrives in the mail. It is yellow, unmarked, and sealed with tape. What's in it? Where did it come from? Will you open it? What happens next? Answer all of these questions in 1,000 words or less.
Like a student cramming for an exam or a project, I am submitting my assignment at the last minute, well, make it last hour and a half. 
I would have loved to use up more words, but I was afraid that they would only ruin what I perceive to be a semi-logical story line. Besides, the fewer the words, the fewer the mistakes. 
Anyway, here is my story....
Thank you for visiting.
Best regards,
Imelda
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FOUND
“At last we found you. Just in time. We have always searched for you....” The pen formed the words to finish the letter. When it was done, it was carefully placed in an envelop and sealed.
As usual, Gen stopped by her mailbox on her way in from work. She was rather surprised when she felt a lumpy envelop that was shoved deeply into the box. Her anticipation turned to curiosity upon seeing an unmarked thick Manila envelop that was thoroughly covered with tape. With this much tape, this better have the crown jewels, no less. She felt the envelop. Oh, just documents. She said in mock disappointment. After some hesitation, she brought it in and went straight to her little kitchen to get a knife. She sliced the top of the envelop and dumped its contents – pictures, letters, many of which had already faded. She picked up the folded paper that was on top of the pile. Unfolding the page, she read -
“We searched everywhere for you. Our hearts broke as often as we received news that our leads had been false. Somehow, you and the babysitter that used to watch you just vanished. Then one day, we we saw you dance in that TV show and the camera panned on the woman you call mother, your babysitter ....”
There must be a mistake. Dear Sarah... Argh! I just opened somebody's mail?! She grumbled after she checked the addressee's name. She was about to put back the contents when her eyes fell on the pictures. She thought that there was something oddly familiar about the dark haired young mother carrying a child on her lap, or the smiling gentleman beside her, or the laughing brown-eyed young girl in another picture, or the baby in her studio portrait. The baby..... Her heart trembled at the thought. She went to the living room and retrieved an album from the shelf. Slumping on the floor, she thumbed through until she found some pictures and compared photos. No, it can't be! Her mind protested.
With shaking hands, she reached for the phone – “Mom?”
Soon Gen was at her mother's kitchen table where she spread out the documents she got. Her mother was silent as she stared at them. Taking a deep breath, she said “I am sorry, Sarah.”
Gen froze at her mother's words. The world she knew just crumbled. She stared at her mother as the latter ran her hand through her once blond hair, but did not see. Neither did Gen hear her say “I could not have a child of my own....” or whatever story she had for taking little Sarah away from her family. She also did not notice when her mother tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ears or gathered her in her arms or brushed away her tears. She braced herself on the table when she stood. Somehow, she managed to gather the papers and stuff them in her bag, before she walked out of the door and got to her car. She did not say good-bye. She drove her car, her reflexes navigating for her.
She went straight to her bedroom. There she let herself cry and scream and wail, her body spewing out the vileness of deceit and betrayal that have been forced upon her. As though to console herself, she read the letter once more -
“... I love you so much. We'll be glad to have you back in our old house. I will try to see you when I can....”
Gen fell asleep with the letter still clutched on her hands.
THE CASE OF THE FOUNTAIN LADY
This week's prompt: Let's go shopping. You choose what kind of shopping, but you must involve 2 characters on the trip, and there must be a conflict of some kind (not necessarily between those 2 characters). Write a paragraph from the point of one character, then write the same interaction from another character's point of view.
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Part I. SYLVIA
Sylvia paced in the little conference room. The lawyer was late. That lawyer is taking so much of my time. Madam is left alone at home. She grumbled. I don't even know why I am here. They said it was about the lady at the mall. I didn't do anything to her. Promise. Ech! What's this? I can do better than this. She thought when she looked at the acrylic abstract on the wall. She looked at her golden watch. Siiggghhhh. He is taking so long! Then she went back to sit on her chair. The door creaked. A youngish looking man in a brown suit came in. Sylvia unconsciously dabbed a hankie on her red lipstick.
“Good morning. Sorry I am late.” He smiled showing the whitest teeth.
Sylvia suppressed a swoon. Oohh, he is just soooo cute!
“So, you saw this lady at the mall?” the man said as he laid down a video surveillance picture of a woman by the fountain.
“Ay. Yes!” She exclaimed while excitedly leaning over to jab at the picture. “But I did not do anything to her sir, I swear.” She remembered her short short skirt, promptly sat straight and put her bag on her lap.
“Just tell me what you saw."
After a few moments, he arched his brows - “So?”
What pretty blue eyes! Focus, focus, Sylvia, she told herself. “Oh! Yes! Where was I? I was pushing Madam on her wheelchair. She is rather old you know. We were just coming out of Macy's. Madam wanted to go to the jewelry store....”
“Yes?”
“Yes, the woman. She got out of Victoria's Secret. She was yakking at the phone. She carried a Victoria's Secret bag and big red purse on her shoulder. I said, how nice her bag is. How nice her clothes were! She was very fashionable, you know. I wanted to take a closer look to see the brand of her clothes and bag. Maybe, I could find some knock-offs somewhere.” She giggled self-consciously. “See, I only have imitation Chanel with me.” She giggled some more.
“Then?” The man tapped at the table with his pencil.
“I walked a little faster so I could follow. But I had to slow down because Madam was saying something I could not understand. She must be scolding me in French again. Thought she was asleep. The woman walked on. I was afraid she would bump at the people and things. Then I heard a scream. I screamed too! AY! The woman fell on the water. She must have tripped. I ran to help her. What a waste of bag and clothes and phone. She said 'I'm alright' and walked away with her head high. Huh! I would have been very ashamed if it happened to me.”
“That's all?"
Sylvia nodded enthusiastically. “May I go now?”
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Part II. MRS. INGRID MARPLE, a.k.a., Madam
“What a way to make a living,” said the lawyer.
He walked to his table and found a sealed envelope labeled “Fountain Lady Case: Ingrid Marple's Deposition”. He opened it and pulled out a sheet of paper called “Sworn Statement” and a DVD. He popped it in his laptop and turned the player on.
Soon the face of a well-coiffed elderly lady of about 80 or so years appeared. “You wanted me to tell you what I saw at the mall some two weeks ago?” she asked a person who was off camera in her well modulated tone. “That is a little difficult considering how long ago that was.” She leaned back on her settee, clasped her hands on her lap, collected herself and -
“Well, on that day,” she said, “Sylvia, my caregiver, and I went to Macy's to buy some jewelry to go with my new clothes. I was in my wheelchair because my legs,” she straightened the woolen throw draped over them, “have been bothering me for the longest time. Sylvia was pushing my wheelchair. When we were done at Macy's, I asked her to please bring me to the jewelers in the mall. I remember trying to rest in between store visits, but Sylvia's constant prattle wouldn't let me. She was talking about everything. This time, it was about some woman with long blonde hair, wearing the finest clothes – if you believe Sylvia, that is, - and carrying the reddest of purses. Sylvia wanted to take a closer look at her clothes. I told her – 'Mind your own business. Watch where we are going'. I must have said it in French. I was starting to be irritable. You think she would pay attention but No! Out of curiosity, I looked at the woman. Gracious! She had no skirt to cover her tights!” Mrs. Marple's eyes widened in indignation. “Sylvia insisted she had one on. 'What a tiny one it was then,' I said. I closed my eyes again then Sylvia was going just too fast. 'Slow down!', I hissed. She must have slowed down, quite a bit, because my chair soon stopped moving. Then I heard Sylvia shriek! I turned to scold her – the mall is not the place for that sort of thing - but she was not where she was supposed to be at all. I called her and saw her beside that woman with no skirt who was coming out of the little pool. Sylvia handed her her purse. She just had a very public bath!!! I was aghast. First, shrieking in the mall then a public bath? What is the world coming to?" With that she looked at the camera with her pale questioning eyes.
The lawyer, with a sigh, turned off the player and reached for his phone. Soon he was heard asking his client, “Do you have any other witness?”
THE ENGAGEMENT - A STORY
The prompt for this week:
Update - February 26, 2012
I revised the story following the suggestions of Stephanie of Bloggy Moms Writers' Workshop. Thanks to her, I have learned some skills on how to make sentences tighter and more accurate, among other things. These writing exercises have also helped me realize first hand the importance of my mother tongue. But I suppose it is a fitting subject of another post. I will keep the old version at the bottom of the revised version for reference. :-) The new version is down to 1512 words, just a few over the limit.
Write a love story in 1500 words or less. Mine is beyond that. Again. 
But after following some advice from the group, I managed to trim the excess to just 61 words, instead of 224 extra words.
Anyway, this story has references to Philippine mythology and folklore. To explain some terms, I linked those up with the appropriate web resources.
I'd appreciate help in trimming this down to the desired word count.
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THE ENGAGEMENT - Revised Version
The ring had not sat long on her fingers when it came.
There they were, holding each other, relishing the first giddy moments of their engagement. Joy seemed to burst forth from Lida as she alternately admired her ring and looked at Carlo. Light from the moon and candles bounced from her ring, but in Carlo's mind, nothing could be brighter than the glow on Lida's face. All the joy in the world was right there in his arms. Then...
“What's the matter?” he asked. He felt Lida suddenly shudder and gasp, saw her eyes widen.
“Nothing,” Lida replied shaking her head. She blinked hard to dispel her vision of a wall of fire that suddenly appeared. The vision left but not before it seared itself in her mind. Lida fought to ignore what she saw, but the magical time was sullied and for her, gone.
The excitement of those days mingled with the disquiet that the vision brought. Like a slideshow, images flashed in her mind reminding her of times she thought she'd outgrown and put behind her: a young, lonely girl, playing in the thicket near her old house; a big knobby tree in the far corner, and... She shut her eyes. No! She told herself as the memories tried to force their way in her thoughts. There were nights when they did not allow her to sleep and days when she could be heard muttering to herself mystifying those who could hear.
The vision seemed to be getting stronger with each passing day. One time when Lida was having lunch with her friends, the vision came again while she was recounting her engagement. The fire seemed to burn hotter. Yet it was not just the fire. Amidst its crackle Lida heard a sonorous voice say “What have I to do to remind you?” Lida paled and was stymied for most of the meal. The sudden change in behavior confounded her friends.
And so it went. Each time that Lida focused on her engagement, the vision flared up, more intensely than the last time as though her thoughts of her engagement and future were the very triggers for the visions and dreams. Somebody seemed not want her happiness, or, was jealous of it. The voices now came more frequently too – especially when she was with Carlo.
“Is anything wrong? You've not been your usual self since our engagement,” said Carlo one day while they walked hand-in-hand towards the parking lot. Lida tightened her grip on his hand. “I'm alright. I'm very happy as you well know,” she replied while trying to give him her sunniest smile. “You know that you can tell me anything,” he replied, turning her towards him so that he could look at her eyes. “I, I'm just scar......ah..having the jitters. That's all”.
Carlo was troubled. He knew there was more to it. He'd never seen Lida like this. She had always been cheerful and solicitous. But these days, she'd been withdrawn. She even looked a little ragged which wasn't like her. If only he could make her talk.
But as days went on, things just worsened. Lida did not even want to discuss their wedding. Carlo was getting irritated.
“Lida, we need to plan our wedding. Where do you want to get married?”
“Wherever you want will be fine.”
“'Thought you wanted it to be at San Agustin? or an out of the way quaint Church perhaps? or in your hometown?”
“Please can we talk about this later.”
“Lida, we've been delaying this.”
“You're being pushy. I said not now, please.”
“But we need to decide on these things!”
“Fine! Go marry yourself!”
Carlo left her in a huff, quite confused.
“Good work, Lida.,” said the voice happily. “Go away”, she sobbed, curling herself on a corner of the couch. Absentmindedly, she caressed the stone on her ring.
“Don't cry, Lida. Remember, you used to come to me when you were sad?”
“I'm not a little girl anymore,” she said more to herself than to the voice in her head.
“You promised we'll be together always,” the voice reminded her. “I gave you gifts. Pretty gifts. But you let them burn our tree down.”
“Stop! Stop!” Lida covered her ears.
“I like this butterfly that you gave me.” She heard a girlish voice say.
“Come here every afternoon, we'll play,” said the other voice.
“Yes, Tomas,” the girl giggled.
The voices played in her head all night. Her day was spent in a waking stupor. The phone rang – Carlo – and she ignored it. How she got to her parents' house, she didn't know. She zoomed through the highway mercifully avoiding any accident. Her mother stared at Lida with alarm when she saw her gaunt face.
Lida threw herself into her mother's arms. “Tomas is back, Mama.”
Her mother turned white. “Does Carlo know?”
“I'm ashamed to tell him, Ma.” She cried. Her mother led her to her old room, the one facing the thicket.
“Welcome back,” said the familiar voice as soon as the door closed. Lida saw a young man walking towards her with outstretched hand. She pushed him away. “Why are you so mad at me?” he asked.
“Leave me alone, Tomas. I'm happy now. I'm marrying the one I love.”
“Before there was Carlo, there was us.”
Much later that day, Carlo, summoned by Lida's mother, arrived. He was brought to Lida's room whereshe was having a fitful sleep. He sat by her side and held her hand. Leaning close to her, he whispered “I do not know how to handle this, Lida. Help me.” Her eyes fluttered. She squeezed his hand.
But in an instant, she was looking at him wide-eyed. “Go away!” a guttural voice issued from her mouth.
Carlo was stunned but managed to hold Lida closer towards him. With great force, she slammed him against the wall. With a sudden jerk, she flung something from her hand. WE DON'T NEED THIS TOY!” - the voice said. It tinkled when it landed by Carlo's side. Carlo managed to pick it up before Lida picked him up by his collar and tossed him out of her room. Lida burst out of the door and almost floated towards the thicket, oblivious of everything, even of Carlo who chased after her and screamed her name. Carlo panicked when he saw her headed towards a wall of fire. Without a thought, he plunged after her, and caught her arm as she stepped into the fire. An invisible hand seemed to have caught her and pulled her- and him - inside.
“Tomas, I am here to play now,” Lida said in an unrecognizable voice.
“Now at last, we can be together, Lida,” said a booming voice. Carlo looked up, and nearly froze when he beheld his rival. A big, dark kapre, with tobacco dangling from his mouth, stood in front of them.
“No, she doesn't belong to you!” Carlo cried as he hacked away at the legs planted before him.
The Kapre only laughed.
Desperate, Carlo turned to Lida - “Lida, can't you see? Tomas is a Kapre, not a man!”
Lida simply stood there, entranced.
“Human, go now or suffer!”
“No. Not without Lida,” said Carlo, wondering how to get out of this nightmare.
Tomas removed the tobacco from his mouth and then extended his long arms towards Carlo. Carlo's hands fumbled looking for anything to distract Tomas with. He felt something in his pocket and held onto it for luck. As Tomas lifted Carlo up and stubbed his cigar on him, Carlo hurled what he was holding straight unto Tomas' eyes. The stone, keeper of the love between Carlo and Lida, cast its brilliance upon Tomas before it fell on Lida. Tomas blinked, stepped back and dropped Carlo onto the ground. The cold band of the ring was like water poured on Lida who seemed to wake up with a start. “Carlo?” Carlo crawled towards Lida. He tried to shield her from the ghastly sight before her, but she saw Tomas. She let out a scream. Tomas looked at her with what seemed like tears and said “I loved you Lida. I want you here.” Lida, recovering from her fear, and perhaps remembering the friend that saw her through her lonely childhood days, said at last - “I love Carlo, Tomas. You will always be my friend”. With that, Tomas uttered a cry that ruffled the leaves and shook the earth around them. Then he disappeared. Lida and Carlo were left in the darkness, by the charred stump of the old tree that was burnt a long time ago to drive Tomas away from Lida. There, they were found in an embrace. The ring was now back on Lida's fingers, flashing its brilliance for all to see.
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THE ENGAGEMENT
The ring had not sat long on her fingers when it came.
There they were, holding each other, relishing the first giddy moments of their engagement. Joy seemed to burst forth from Lida as she alternately admired her ring and looked at Carlo. Moonlight and candlelight played and bounced from her ring, but in Carlo's mind, nothing could be brighter than the glow in Lida's face. All the joy in the world is right in his arms that moment. Then...
“What's the matter?”, he asked as he felt Lida suddenly shudder and gasp, her eyes wide.
“Nothing”, Lisa replied with a shake of her head. She blinked hard to shake off her vision of a wall of fire that intruded in that moment. The vision disappeared but not before it seared itself in Lida's mind. Lida fought to ignore what she saw, but the magical time was sullied and for her, gone.
The excitement of those days mingled with the disquiet that the vision brought. Like a slideshow, images flashed in her mind reminding her of times she thought she had outgrown and put behind her: a young, lonely girl, playing in the thicket near her old house; a big knobby tree in the far corner, and... She shut her eyes. No! She told someone unseen who was trying to force itself in her thought. There were nights when the memories did not allow her to sleep and days when she could be heard muttering to herself to the puzzlement of those who could hear.
The vision seemed to be getting stronger with each passing day. One time when Lida was having lunch with her friends, the vision came again while she was recounting her engagement moment. The fire seemed to burn hotter. Yet it was not just the fire. Amidst its crackle Lida heard a sonorous voice say “What have I to do to remind you?” Lida paled and was stymied for most of the meal. The sudden change in behavior bewildered her friends who took it in stride and veered the conversation away from Lida's engagement.
And so it went. Each time that Lida focused on her engagement, the vision flared up, more intensely than the last time as though her thoughts of her engagement and future were the very triggers for the visions and dreams. Somebody seemed not want her happiness, or, was jealous of it. The voices now come more frequently too – especially when she was with Carlo.
“Is anything wrong? You've not been your usual self since our engagement.”, said Carlo one day while they walked hand-in-hand towards the parking lot. Lida tightened her grip on Carlo's hand. “I'm alright. I am very happy as you well know”, she replied while trying to give Carlo her sunniest smile. “You know that you can tell me anything,” he replied, turning her towards him so that he could look at her eyes. “I, I am just scar......ah..having the jitters. That's all”.
Carlo was troubled. He knew there was more to it. He had never seen Lida like this. She had always been cheerful and solicitous. But these days, she had been withdrawn. She even looked a little ragged which was not like her. If only he could make her talk.
But as days went on, things just worsened. Lida did not even want to discuss their wedding. Carlo was getting irritated.
“Lida, we need to plan our wedding. Where do you want to get married?”
“Wherever you want will be fine.”
“I thought you wanted it to be at San Agustin? or an out of the way quaint Church perhaps? or in your hometown?”
“Please can we talk about this later.”
“Lida, we have been delaying this.”
“You are being pushy. I said not now, please.”
“But we need to decide on these things!”
“Fine! Go marry yourself!”
Carlo left her in a huff, quite confused.
“Good work, Lida.,” said the voice happily. “Go away”, she sobbed, curling herself on a corner of the couch. Absentmindedly, she caressed the stone on her ring.
“Don't cry, Lida. Remember, you used to come to me when you were sad?”
“I am not a little girl anymore”, she said more to herself than to the voice in her head.
“You promised we will be together always”, the voice reminded her. “I gave you gifts. Pretty gifts. But you let them burn our tree down.”
“Stop! Stop!” Lisa covered her ears.
“I like this butterfly that you gave me”. Lida heard a girlish voice say.
“Come here every afternoon, we will play”, said the other voice.
“Yes, Tomas”, the girl giggled.
The voices played in her head all night. Her day was spent in a waking stupor. The phone rang – Carlo – and she ignored it. How she got to her parents' house, she did not know. She zoomed through the highway mercifully avoiding any accident. Her mother stared at her with alarm when she saw Lida's gaunt face.
Lida threw herself into her mother's arms. “Tomas is back, Mama.”
Her mother turned white. “Does Carlo know?”
“I am ashamed to tell him, Ma.” She cried. Her mother led her to her old room, the one facing the thicket.
“Welcome back”, said the familiar voice as soon as the door closed. Lida saw a young man walking towards her with outstretched hand. She pushed him away. “Why are you so mad at me?”, asked the young man.
“Leave me alone, Tomas. I am happy now. I am marrying the the one I love.”
“Before there was Carlo, there was us.”
Much later that day, Carlo, summoned by Lisa's mother, arrived. He was brought to Lida's room where Lida was having a fitful sleep. He sat by her side and held her hand. Leaning close to her, he whispered “I do not know how to handle this, Lida. Help me.” Her eyes fluttered. She squeezed his hand.
But in an instant, she was looking at him wide-eyed. “Go away!”, a guttural voice issued from her mouth.
Carlo was stunned but managed to hold Lida closer towards him. With great force, she slammed him against the wall. With a sudden jerk, she flung something from her hand. WE DO NOT NEED THIS TOY!” - the voice said. It tinkled as it landed by Carlo's side. Carlo managed to pick it up before Lida picked him up by his collar and tossed him out of her room. Lida burst out of the door and almost floated towards the thicket, oblivious of everything, even of Carlo who chased after her and screamed her name. Carlo panicked when he saw her headed towards a wall of fire. Without a thought, he plunged after her, and caught her arm as she stepped into the fire. An invisible hand seemed to have caught her and pulled her- and him - inside.
“Tomas, I am here to play now”, Lida said in an unrecognizable voice.
“Now at last, we can be together, Lida” said a booming voice. Carlo looked up, and nearly froze when he beheld his rival – a big, dark kapre, with tobacco dangling from his mouth, stood in front of them.
“No, she does not belong to you!” Carlo cried as he hacked away at the legs planted before him.
The Kapre only laughed.
Desperate, Carlo turned to Lida - “Lida, can't you see? Tomas is a Kapre, not a man!”
But Lida simply stood there, entranced.
“Human, go now or suffer!”
“No. Not without Lida.” said Carlo, not knowing how to get out of this nightmare.
Tomas removed the tobacco from his mouth and then extended his long arms towards Carlo. Carlo's hands fumbled looking for anything to distract Tomas with. He felt something in his pocket and held onto it for luck. As Tomas lifted Carlo up and stubbed his cigar on Carlo, Carlo hurled what he was holding straight unto Tomas' eyes. The stone, keeper of the love between Carlo and Lida, cast its brilliance upon Tomas before it fell on Lida. Tomas blinked, stepped back and dropped Carlo onto the ground. The cold band of the ring was like water poured on Lida who seemed to wake up with a start. “Carlo?” Carlo crawled towards Lida. He tried to shield her from the ghastly sight before her, but she saw Tomas. She let out a scream. Tomas looked at her with what seemed like tears and said “I loved you Lida. I want you here.” Lida, recovering from her fear, and perhaps remembering the friend that saw her through her lonely childhood days, said at last - “I love Carlo, Tomas. You will always be my friend”. With that, Tomas uttered a cry that ruffled the leaves and shook the earth around them. Then he disappeared. Lida and Carlo were left in the darkness, by the charred stump of the old tree that was burnt a long time ago to drive Tomas away from Lida. There, they were found them in an embrace. The ring was now back on Lida's fingers, flashing its brilliance for all to see.
Thank you for dropping by.
Best regards,
Imelda
THE LAMPPOST AND THE TRELLIS - A Story
For this week, we were told to write about a conflict between two inanimate objects. Here is my take. Enjoy.
THE LAMP POST AND THE TRELLIS
Once there was a lamp post that stood happily in the front yard of an old house. It stood there for the longest time relishing the space and freedom that it had.
One day, a new family moved into the house. Since the house was a little decrepit, the man spent a lot of time doing repairs inside. The lady, however, decided to meddle with the yard. She dug here and there, and planted this and that. She planted a clematis by the lamp post. “Uh-oh,”, Lamppost said, but it did not mind it so much. Yet, the lady did not stop there. She put up not one, but two trellises beside it so that the clematis have something to climb on. “This is just the outside of enough!”, Lamppost grumped, but not too loudly because it did not want the lady to pull it out.
And so began the agony of the poor Lamppost.
“Don't lean on me! You are too heavy,” complained Lamppost to Trellis.
“The ground is too soft. I can't help but tip over,” explained Trellis.
“You are intruding on my space!”, whined Lamppost.
“Don't blame me. The lady put me here,” pouted Trellis.
“Hah! Your lady is a meddler. I was here before she came. Hmp!”
So, Lamppost and Trellis bickered day in and day out.
Sometimes, one could almost see Lamppost pushing Trellis away when the wind blew. At other times, it was Trellis that seemed to jostle and sidle up to Lamppost just to annoy it.
One day, their confrontation came to a head. The clematis grew and bore a lot of flowers. It creeped and clung and spilled out of Trellis. It crawled and tangled itself on Lamppost and threatened to choke it.
“Take care of your ward!”, yelled Lamppost.
“I can't. It is too big for me now. “
“Move your body away from me, will you?”, commanded Lamppost.
“If I do that, I would fall.”
Since it could not make Trellis move away from it, Lamppost then planned and plotted on how to eliminate Trellis. One time, it tried to zap the clematis. “Once the clematis was dead, the lady would remove Trellis from its space then I would be free”, Lamppost reasoned with glee. Alas! It was too old. Its lights were no longer working. It could not even manage a tiny zing. One time, it tried to bump and push Trellis just so Trellis would tip over to the other side. But clematis had Trellis stuck to Lamppost so that the latter could barely push Trellis away. “Sigh!” Lamppost was not about to give up yet though. It bided its time.
One day, a fierce storm came. Lightning played in the sky. Thunder shook the ground. And wind made everything sway to and fro, to and fro. At last, the time Lamppost was waiting for came. The wind puffed and swirled. Lamppost yanked itself as hard as it could after the wind. Whish! Swoosh! Around and around and around it went. Bang, clang bang! It hit the trellis here and there. And then it gave a final push. Crash! It fell to the ground pushing trellis with it. Trellis laid on its back covered with the uprooted clematis. Lamppost, with broken light bulb and twisted pole, itself laying on top of trellis triumphantly said - “I rid myself of you at last”. It laughed so hard, his body rattled and broke in half.
FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH - A Story
This story is for the Bloggy Mom Writers' Workshop. This time, we were let loose - we had to find our own inspiration using Pinterest. Now, that was a little tricky because I had no Pinterest account when the prompt was given. I had to copy the pictures that poked my fancy right on this page and link them to their pages so that they don't get lost. These pictures were not my first choice, but the first one that I wanted to write on disappeared when I refreshed the page.
Anyway, the picture of the fully made-up eye below inspired me to write something about the desire to remain young and beautiful forever to the point that there is almost fear of getting and looking old. It proved to be a little too complicated for me and I almost gave up. Somehow, at the last minute, I managed to get past through my own obstacles and put something that is hopefully comprehensible. Thank you for reading. Feel free to put in your inputs and comments.
There was a lady who was scared of getting old. She visited her mirror an untold number of times each day not so much as to admire herself – though there was much to admire about herself – but to check for new lines and blemish on her fair face. Her hair did not escape scrutiny either. She scanned each strand for signs of white. Her husband had long learned to keep his peace during one of these, his wife's, moods.
One night, while engaged in her favorite activity, the lady found a line branching out from the corner of her eye. She let out the scream of one whose toe was accidentally pierced by a nail file. That certainly brought her husband to his feet and fuss over her. When advised of the cause of such heart-rending scream, the husband with an extraordinary display of self control said “Darling, there.is.no.line.” while trying to draw his wife in his arms.
“You just do not look hard enough”. The husband simply held her tighter – his mouth even more tight – because any comment on his part would spell his doom.
Needless to say, the lady retired to her bed very troubled. Her mother's fate loomed in her dreams – her mother was abandoned by her husband for a much younger woman.
II
The following day, she prevailed upon her best friend to accompany her to Enchantments, the newest cosmetic place in town. She had heard about its fancy cream, presumptuously called Fountain of Youth – and wanted to see how it worked.
“Just last week you just bought a pile of expensive make-up”, her friend said as she jogged on the treadmill.
“I had no extra wrinkle then,” the lady replied as she heaved dumb bells over her head.
“Why don't you just do botox?”
“I just had one some time ago.”
And so, the afternoon found the lady and her friend in Enchantments where a woman with the blackest hair they ever saw entertained them. In her dulcet tones, she shilled the merits of the little tub of cream in her hand - “This is quite potent – just one application will bring you your wondrous results.” "It is made of secret ingredients so out of this world you won't even believe it”, she added with a beguiling smile as she put the cream on the counter top.
Lured by the promises of the cream, the lady shelled out a considerable amount to have it despite some reservations expressed by her friend.
That night, as usual, the lady ministered on her face. To freshen her tired skin, she smoothed the cream on her face. She closed her eyes to savor the relaxation that is seeping through her. She felt so light, so light that she felt like floating. The woman did not lie....
Her husband was amused at what he thought to be his wife's usual dramatics, until … He cried in alarm, tried to grab her, but she just dissipated like fog being blown by the wind.
III.
“Oh, what a silly dream!”, the lady thought. She opened her eyes and saw her husband beside her. Their little daughter somehow managed to climb into their bed as well. She was curled at the foot of their bed. Shaking her head in amusement, the lady reached out and picked up her little girl. How wonderful is it to wake up with the people she loved.
She walked to the bathroom to start her day. She passed by the mirror and acknowledged the person that she saw. Patting her cheek, she said “Girl, fortunately,you do not need any of that magic cream just yet.” Pleased with herself, she moved on, removed her clothes and stepped into the bath.
Life went on. The lady is happy being at home, raising her daughter, occasionally visiting with her friends and relations, engaging in her hobbies, and making a home for her husband and child. She had a beautiful little house set in a lush flower garden filled with the singing of birds and fluttering of butterfly wings. She loved her life.
One day, a queer thing happened. Her friends told her the news about one person they knew who simply vanished. “What a fish wife tale!”, she said. But it was not the last time she heard such stories. She shrugged them off and put it on people being agitated by something or other. Then one day, her own friend did not come in their usual coffee chat. She was greatly disturbed and wished for her friend's return. She helped her friend's family look for her even though they sensed it being pointless since they saw her vanish before their eyes.
One morning, she looked at her husband. She blinked several times to clear her vision. She shook her head as though to clear it. It could not be. Her husband seemed to be a a little blurry. It was as though she is looking at him through a foggy window. “Please, no”, she prayed. Yet each day, he seemed to get blurrier and blurrier, as though he was fading right in front of her. Then one day, he just disappeared.
The disappearance of her husband devastated her. Her paradise lost its lustre. She started to have those dreams - of beings who looked like humans except for their creased skin and white hair, and slower movements. She was scared. Never had she seen anything like them before.
She thought of her daughter. She too had changed. She was no longer little. She seemed to have magically grown a lot since her father's disappearance. She was now the mother of a grown-up child and nobody would have been the wiser. The lady had remained as youthful and as beautiful as the day she laid eyes on her child.
Days, years, months may have passed. She once again saw the familiar blur - on her daughter this time. Dread gripped her heart. She knew what it meant. But she could not stop it. She soon saw her own daughter fade before her very eyes. She was now all alone. Everyone she loved, everyone she knew have vanished from her life. She cried and cried until there were no more tears, until her own voice rang hollow in her ears. But her body cried and screamed and cried and screamed some more like a madwoman. She looked at herself in the mirror, at the red rimmed eyes and the misery painted all over it. Her hand, as though with a mind of its own, tugged at her face, scrubbing at it as hard as she could hoping that by doing so her misery would be erased and the once beautiful happy face restored again to its rightful place.
Defeated, exhausted, she managed to get to her bed and perhaps sleep. And dream the familiar dream about the strange beings. This time, she was not afraid. She lingered and watched. Then she heard familiar voices – of her husband, her daughter, her friends. They had become the strange people. She reached out to them.
IV
She opened her eyes and found herself in front of a mirror. There was something familiar in her surroundings. The windows. The bed. The room. They all tugged at a memory. She walked around, feeling the carpet tickle her feet. She looked out of the window and saw the Japanese maple in the middle of the lawn. She closed her eyes and focused on the flood of memories surging through her.
Then she heard the door creak. It was too late for her to hide. In came a man. She knew that man. Recognition. It all came back to her. “My husband!”, she whispered. “My darling. You are back. My prayers were answered at last!” He collected her in her arms just like the old days and planted a kiss on her forehead. With tears in their eyes, they clung to each other. “Please do not use that cream again”, he said at last.
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