When an idea hits……..

I’ve learned really quickly that when an idea hits you just have to jot it down and then just kind of go with it from there. So this idea has been bugging and bugging me. I don’t have it in any certain order thought out at all. I have the middle and I now have the beginning… no ending yet… which is opposite of how I usually write. I usually have the ending and the beginning and no middle…. PROGRESS!!!!!  I guess at least….. my editor may be a bit happier.  🙂  Anyway I figured I’d give you all a brief look at some new work….. 🙂  Let me know what you think…..

She walked out on to the balcony and looked out over the lands. The scenery was very grey to her eyes. She could close them and smell and it took her back to a more peaceful and beautiful time. The land was filled with purple blossoms that popped up everywhere. The grasses were a dark green and the smells were amazing. It always smelled of rain, even know as the lands were grey and drying up, it smelled of rain. She loved the rain. It cleansed, purified, and renewed. It promised flowers that would never grow for her again. It promised sights she knew yet could never again know. The rain was her salvation and her downfall. She sighed and glided back into the room. Inside she looked around. It was as grey and dank in the room as it was outside of it. Cobwebs dropped across every corner. Dust covered every inch of the room. She snorted and moved to the door. Whispers followed her everywhere. She long ago stopped listening to them. Long ago she learned what they said and she cared not listen to what they meant. Long ago she walked into this willingly and the voices guided her and helped her. Lately though they spoke nonsense. The voices spoke promises like the rain. She didn’t want to hear it anymore. She would cry if she were capable. She passed a mirror in the hall and paused. Looking at it she turned herself to see every view she was able. The mirror had caked on dirt and dust. Long ago it was beautiful and ornate, gilded with jewels and gold embellishments, now though it was tarnished and dirty, just as she was. Her white dress was in tatters around her slender form. Her hair was black, or so she thought, it was hard to tell with the lighting and the mirror. It hung in strings around her head and down her back. Limply it reached nearly to her thighs. It never saw the light of day anymore. Her form was skeletal and pale, nearly see-through. Her eyes were sunken and haunted. What color were they? She found she could not remember and could not tell by looking at them. Where they blue? She turned from the mirror and continued forward to the staircase. The staircase led to the ballroom which was the gem of the entire palace. It was all built for her. Everything she saw and touched was made for her. She grew to hate it, loathe it even. It all disgusted her as it was her eternal prison. She wailed shaking the walls of the palace and carrying out on the wind for miles around her.
Haunted. The woods and hills around them were all haunted. The people of B______ always knew this. The hills would wail in sorrow in the evenings, well not every evening. Peter walked on the main road looking for the nearest food market. He knew it was down an alleyway but he was always lost. He stopped in the street and looked up at the sky. It was getting dark. He would never find the food market before close. He signed and was just about to give up when he saw a figure run out of the alleyway up the street a few feet. It was carrying bags of food. The market! He had found the way, or more stumbled upon it. He ran for the alley. It wasn’t as if it would disappear, he just wanted to get there before it closed. The figure in the street looked back at him and shook their head and continued on their way home. Peter ran through the alleyway and came out right into the food market. He toppled over a barrel of apples. They scattered into the street. He stood and fumbled around a bit before helping the poor vender pick them all up. He slowed down and looked around. He needed to find meat, carrots, and exotic fruits. Up in front of him was a vender cart with animals having from wires, there was meat. He made his way to the vender. Looking up he grabbed an odd looking bird, a small rodent like thing, and a boar. He told the vender he would be back for the meat after he picked up some of the produce. He wandered the other carts looking for things to go with the meat. Darkness fell on the market. Venders began to close their stalls. People slouched under all of there packages. The gypsy venders would be leaving tonight. It would be the last time to get these foods for months. Peter hurried back along the stalls looking for the meat stall. They were packing up. He picked up his pace and got to the vender. It was then he noticed a young woman in the back of the stall. She was watching everyone packing up with a serine smile on her face. Her lips were painted a pale red. Her hair was a flowing black. Her face was partially covered by a veil and her clothing was loose-fitting and light purple. She was beautiful. Peter was mesmerized. Noise around him continued and the meat vender tried to get his attention. “Sir!” Peter shook his head. The woman was gone. He must have imagined her there. He took a questioning look behind the vender who took a look behind himself as well. A recognition came upon his face as he pressed the meats into Peter’s arms. “Your purchases sir.” He bowed a hurried bow and finished packing up his stall to leave. Peter was left in the nearly empty street with his packages overflowing in his arms. What had he just seen? He slowly turned himself and walked back to the alleyway that would lead him to the main street and then home.
Tobar looked behind him several times. His companions were beginning to worry for him. One called out to him. “Ho! Tobar! How goes it?!” He waved back signaling all was well but his silence told everyone another story. They looked at one another uneasily but continued. They lived a gypsy life. They would forever be on the move. Their vender carts in tow, they needed to make it to camp before dawn. The wagons continued on at a steady pace. The only sound was the soft footfalls of the animals and the turning of the wheels. The caravan trudged along making good time. They came upon a makeshift tented community just before dawn. Straw and mud made up the makeshift houses. Silks made up the doors and windows giving the people inside the illusion of privacy. Some people came out of the houses to help settle the caravan in. Hushed voices were heard and small conversation was struck about what money was made that day and where they would all go next. One loud voice was heard above them all. “It is time to settle in. You may all speak in the morning. We will be on the move again soon.” Tobar watched his people settle themselves in. Morning would soon be here, they would only get to sleep till early afternoon this time. The rest of the caravan would be up shortly to start the normal chores and to gather wares with the money they made this trip. It was very productive. He frowned as he thought of his interaction with his strange last minute customer. He was packing up for the night when the man came back for his meat. He kept looking behind him as if he was tranfixed by someone. It would appear the spirit was following them again. She always came and misfortune always befell them. Someone would disappear and it would be blamed on their caravan. It never failed to happen. It never failed that a body was found, and it never failed that they would be freed because no one would know what had happened to the body. The deaths were mysterious and there were many legends about the area. The gypsies had heard the wailing for years. But they all knew a darker story. They all knew a sadder story. They knew the truth and they were moving the hills forever because of it. Gypsies they were called. Tabor laughed to himself. It was not always so. The last of his people went in for the night just as the sun was peaking over the makeshift camp sight. He sighed and walked to his tent alone letting the flap close hollowly behind him leaving his memories at the door.

So there it is!!! Just a small piece of what I’ve been working on…. on my birthday… while on vacation…….  Yeah…..

That’s the other thing…. Ideas never EVER hit when you want them to. They usually hit in a dream, while at work, when you don’t have anything to write it down, when you’re too busy. When I can sit down at a computer I can’t write a single thing. Guess it’s a good thing a notebook goes with me everywhere. Yep… it’s archaic BUT it’s effective and that’s all that matters.

Also… thoughts are random. There is a randomness to the random that is in my head right now. Splicing souls from people’s bodies while making sure they still live because they are useless dead….. Gypsy caravans that roam but were once nobles…. Ancient groups of animals that are trying to take back their land…. Talking birds that only talk when you aren’t listening…… A queen trying to get back to her family through a portal that connects between worlds at the will of the person strong enough to control the portal at will….. You know… Stuff like that. 🙂 My mind is a playground and sometimes organizing the equipment into something reasonable to play with is pretty hard. Need an engineer for my brain. 🙂  Well… it’s time to try to develop some of this randomness.  AFTER PIZZA OF COURSE!!!!!


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