Just finished my WIP and as usual, Sue’s photo for the #writephoto prompt fits the theme perfectly.
Cecilia stopped out of breath at the crossroads. The place held no terror for her, but she was close to her time and the child would hear them calling as clearly as she did. She looked across the valley, the town huddled along the beck, out of sight, but the column of smoke from the mill chimney rose straight and black, a finger pointing at the indifferent sky.
The place held no terror for her, but it was full of a restless sadness. The quarry that was not a quarry gaped. She felt the pattering of footsteps beneath the earth, heard the scrape of clawed fingers on stone. He had never listened, never wanted to know. Perhaps he would not have cared anyway. His kind rarely did.
She sighed and turned back. Soon it would come. There is a time for everything, seasons, births, reckonings. She looked at the spire and the turrets that poked in their absurd monstrosity above the tree line. He had thought to build a mansion for himself and his heirs. He had built it on bones of the unquiet dead. She winced as the child stirred, and the wind blew cold. The saddest part was that when the flames came, he would not understand why.
You could have written this piece for this place, Jane 😉
I only saw the prompt today. I’ve been finishing the story. It’s just the right spot!
I’d imagine you know it 😉
I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out 🙂
🙂
This is you at your best, Jane. I love it.
Thank you. Another one to add the mountain of unpublished manuscripts. I live in hope.
It should spring eternal and I, for one, can’t imagine why on earth you aren’t taking up shelves of space in the bibliotèque with your collections and novels. It’s a nonsense.
Because no publisher wants them. I’ve been told they’re complicated.
Yes, I understand it is a simple matter of Publishers playing god and being ultra cautious. We had several conversations a few years ago. I need to get my head straighter but I will revisit the thoughts I had then. There absolutely HAS to be a way (and I’m not including literary prostitution in my mental list). This doesn’t just apply to you – there is a small handful of writers that I really value and whom I believe have real talent. The routine closed door in face is wholly depressing but there must be a key. I just need to work out what it is.
I have an agent, one of the best. That’s what’s so dispiriting. If she can’t swing it, nobody can.
Yes, I remember you being signed by a good one. She will come through. In the meantime please keep the faith – you are extremely talented and the world WILL wake up.
It’s good of you to be encouraging. I’ve just got so many books now it’s embarrassing.
Congratulations on finishing. Another bit of perfect timing. 😀. Yes, this definitely has a gothic feel.
It started out as a piece of flash fiction. Quite an exercise for me!
😀
Good work against mill stacks and the spires men think they must build. While being in the open has its perils, soon it will be much safer closer to the earth.
We should in general be more modest, humbler. A tall order for some.
The world lies uneasy. There are so many who are blind to it. (K)
Dead and forgotten, as if they never existed, and no one ever called to account.
And congratulations on finishing it! I hope it will find a home. (K)
Thank you. Me too!
A unprodicted, but very productive cooperation. 😉
Aw, sorry “unpredicted” 😉
I thought that was it 🙂