Hi guys! Well, once again, I’ve entered a contest. However, this time it isn’t a photography contest; it’s a writing contest. It’s hosted by Rutvi (https://sosugarsweet.wordpress.com/).
Now, my writing is a little better than my photography … but I don’t expect to win because I can suck under pressure. 😄
Anyway, here’s my entry for the first FNWC (Fantasy Notebook: Writing Challenge).
So, I can include as many of the writing prompts (there are quite a few!) in my entry as I want. The following are the ones I chose to include (besides the word ’emerald’):
(Note: some of the prompt images have mysterious disappeared!)
The following story is set in the year 1941, just so y’all know. 😉
Coming Home from School
“The End is sometimes only the beginning,” Ruby said wisely. She tugged her coat closer about her. The December wind was sharp and angry, tugging at her auburn hair – curled for the last day of school – and her red dress.
“And that,” Truitt announced, “Makes perfect sense.”
“Well, it does, if you think about it! The end is just the start of ‘Happily Ever After,’ you know,” proclaimed our heroine. “And perhaps the ‘Happily Ever After’ won’t last ‘ever after’ and then you’re stuck with another story to tell.”
“Not all books have sequel.”
“I’m not talking about books! I’m talking about life.”
“It’s hard to tell the difference with you sometimes,” Truitt said, elbowing her in the ribs. “So, what’s up with you for Christmas?”
“Mamma’s taking me to New York.”
“O-oh, that’s right. She’s here to pick you up. Whatcha gonna do in New York?”
“There’ll be this big party and I’ll have to attend,” Ruby replied, twisting her emerald ring around her finger.
“Oh, one of those society things,” Truitt said, side-stepping away from Ruby.
“What?” Ruby asked, glancing up at her companion. Two years older than her at eighteen, Truitt Sheveland – tanned, brown-haired and -eyed, the build of a jockey – had been one of her dearest friends since she moved to Louisville to stay with her aunt and uncle last September.
“This uppity Farjon stuff always bugs me.”
“I know, I know. I feel like I’m living in Philadelphia Story sometimes, but it’s not all bad. Trust me, I’m not like the people you read and hear about who have money. I’m nice.”
“So you’re a human? Like, one hundred percent actual human? I’ve heard scary things about you guys,” Truitt joked.
“Sure, I’m human. Mamma is too. And Dad … well, I have mixed feelings about Dad,” Ruby said with a light laugh. “Still, I’d much rather be in Virginia for Christmas. I want to go home.”
Truitt put on a voice that Ruby knew was meant to imitate some actor, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “And I want to go to the moon. It ain’t happening, sweetheart. Time to accept that.”
“Oh, you!” Ruby said, aiming a kick in Truitt’s direction. He swerved aside.
“Easy, my girl!” he exclaimed.
“Don’t call me that,” Ruby said.
“Because that’s my mother’s name. I don’t like her.”
“What? You were just talking about how wonderful she was last night!”
“Ok, maybe I like her. I just don’t like being called her name.”
“I thought her name was Ruby, too. You don’t seem to mind being called ‘Ruby,’ Ruby.”
“No, I don’t. Just ‘my girl’ … it’s what my dad calls her.”
“Oh, ok. Point made. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Like what?” Ruby kicked a pile of snow.
“Um … er … Ruby E. Farjon, if you had a choice of how you were to die, what would you choose?”
“Now, seriously. What would you choose? I think I’d pick something quick – shot in the head, maybe … if it were a certain kind of gun … but you?”
“Something really dramatic,” Ruby laughed. “Like … eaten by a lion.”
“That’s not really dramatic.”
“Sunk in the river, then. Like the … the … that lady from the poem.”
“You were just talking about how ill-fated this is due to that … one girl. Jane or whatever.”
“Anne, you mean? Anne of Green Gables?”
“That might be it.”
“I’m sure it was. Then … ok, how about this. Chained to a beach and drowned by the tide.”
“I … suppose. Yes, that might work. Although how do you chain yourself to sand?”
“Well … well … oh, you shut up. I don’t like the way you’ve decided to die. Pick a new one. Something interesting.”
“Shot in the back by a piano-playing sniper?” Truitt suggested.
Ruby burst into a fit of giggles that nearly knocked her over. “How did you come up with that?”
“I’m a misunderstood genius.”
“Ok, then,” Ruby replied, eyebrows raised. “Tell me about my foal. How’s he doing?”
“Great. I think I broke him yesterday.”
“Not his spirit, though?” Ruby asked anxiously.
“You know I haven’t.”
They stopped in front of Ruby’s uncle’s house.
“Come in for some hot chocolate or whatever?”
“Nah, gotta get home. See you in January.”
“Ok. See you then.”
“I will. Bye, Ruby.”
Well, what do you think?! 😀 Oh, and sorry about the extra post. I had to get this out before the fifth, and, as you know, I won’t be around by then.