Category Archives: Challenges and Writing Prompts

The Castle of Souls

Illustration by Ivan Bilibin

“Who goes there?” Sparrow called to the darkness, as she walked the perimeter of the Castle of Souls.

Sparrow was a demigoddess sent to the earth realm to guard the castle and to spare undue calamity to human-kind by keeping the living outside the gate and “others” inside.

The Castle of Souls, or Purgatory as some call it, has existed since the beginning of time. It is nestled in the remote forests of Death Valley near the steep, rocky banks of the raging River of No Return and, most notably, features a sprawling garden of souls that glow eerily from skulls on bone posts where they reside until they are granted passage to heaven. It is certain death for any human unfortunate enough to witness such a sight, which is why Sparrow was so vigilant this dark, chilly night. 

She heard another sound echoing from the rocks near the river’s edge. “Hello! I know you are there. Identify yourself!” she demanded sternly.

“I’m lost,” a young voice cried from the blackness. “I’m lost an’ I’m hungry an’ I want my Mama, but she fell into the water when our boat tipped over and she never came out. I’ve been waitin’ and waitin’ but she never came…” the voice grew louder and clearer as a child with wild golden hair, shivering, wet from the river, wearing torn clothing that clung to her like skin, emerged into the light.

“Please don’t come any closer, child,” Sparrow pleaded, “I cannot help you. This is no place for a child to be. Follow the river this way,” she instructed, as she pointed down river, “soon enough you will find yourself in the village. Now run along.”

“But I’m cold and I’m tired. It’s dark. Can’t I just stay here with you?”

Sparrow took pity on the child and granted her wish, but only until morning, and only outside the wall of the castle grounds. She made a soft bed of leaves and wild flowers for the child and kept watch from the other side of the gate to make sure the girl didn’t wander inside.

Dawn of day is the time when souls arrive from death to the castle. It is a necessary cleansing of the veil between time and eternity. The presence of too many souls wandering the earth always creates chaos for the living. 

When the souls arrived, floating through the gate, looking very much like fog, many paused to gaze fondly at the sleeping child.  One soul lingered longer than most. Sparrow watched as it hovered over the child. She grew increasingly impatient with the soul, until she realized that it was the child’s mother. 

The allotted time for soul receiving was ending as the sun inched above the horizon. Sparrow urged the mother soul to come inside, but she refused to leave the child. If she didn’t close the gate soon, Sparrow risked a mutiny of the other souls in her keeping, so she made a deal with the mother.

“I see that you love this child more than eternity,” Sparrow said, “so I will grant you three days, and three days only, to stay with the child until she finds her way to the safety of the village. It’s a two day’s walk from here. Remember, three days only and you must return.” Then Sparrow closed the gate.

The booming noise from the shuttering iron gate startled the child awake. She remembered Sparrows’s instructions and set off down river. 

Her mother’s soul followed closely behind. She soon discovered that she could communicate with the child by sending a flutter of wind moving leaves to reveal bunches of tasty berries or by rustling shrubbery to redirect the child if she set off in the wrong direction. 

They traveled along the rocky shore of the River of No Return and through the canyons and salt flats of Death Valley until at long last a village came into view. The child’s pace sped up when she noticed people in the town square. A kind woman with several children of her own noticed the girl and took her in. The mother watched from afar a day longer to make sure the girl was safe and then, as she had promised, returned to enter the castle garden on the third day.

Sparrow noticed something different about the mother soul when she returned. She glowed warmer, brighter than the other souls. And one other thing; she did not wail and moan, which was a common practice that made the garden a miserable place to be. 

Sparrow was so inspired by the peaceful presence of the mother soul, that she declared that all souls would henceforth be granted three days to make their peace with life and the living before entering the the Castle of Souls.

You may have heard that the souls of the recently deceased linger three days, wandering amongst, and making their peace with the living before moving on. It was not always so. Now you know the story of how it came to be that when someone you love dies, you feel their presence ever so near, because my dears, they are!

~kat – 2 March 2017

A strange tale for Jane Dougherty’s Sunday Strange Microfiction Challenge inspired by the painting above by Ivan Bilibin, a Russian illustrator.


Waste – A Haiku Challenge


waste not want
not to store excess
but plenty

it was such a waste
four long years of higher ed
just to flip burgers

the cruelest fate
one’s body wasting away
with one’s mind intact

it’s a waste of time
to try changing someone’s mind
who thinks with their heart

a life of worry
wasted on cheap wine and painkillers
death not survival

~kat – 1 March 2017

For Haiku Horizons Challenge, prompt word: Waste.


Secret Burn – A Haiku 


dawn is truth’s ally
its light burns fog into mist
exposing secrets

~kat ~ 1 March 2017

For Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge, prompt words: Secret & Burn.


Twittering Tales #19 – 28 February 2017

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About the challenge: Each Tuesday I will provide a prompt photo, and your mission is to tell a story based on that prompt in 140 characters or less. If you accept the challenge, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale. A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at charactercountonline.com.
I will do a roundup each Tuesday, along with providing us a new prompt.  Have Fun!
Here is our round up for this week’s prompt…a photo of a lovely, eerie, other-worldly, romantic, terrifying water-locked house on stilts set under a meteor dashed night sky. What imaginations you all have! I think this is one of my favorite twitter challenges yet. Thanks to everyone who gave it a try this week!
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Photo from Pixabay.com

Twittering Tale #18 – The Round-Up:

From Di at Pensivity101…who I totally overlooked in the first draft of the roundup! Please forgive me Di…

The meteor shower was fast.
As the rocks fell, an eerie glow engulfed the lake house,
And by the time it was all over,
It had vanished.

(132 Characters)

From Michael at Morpethroad:

Alone at last she looks, and says its been so long.
Alone at last he looks, says I’m glad today has arrived.
Alone at last, holding hands.
(136 Characters)

From Nicola at Sometimes Stellar Storyteller:

Frenzied meteors razed everything, yet recoiled from the house. As did we.
Childhood terror clamoured to be heard, but to live we must enter.
(141 Characters)

From Patrick at I Can’t Possibly be Wrong All the Time:

That night we gathered at the lakehouse.
We knew that come dawn, only one of us would be traveling back across the pier to shore.
Or none.
(136 Characters)

From Reena at ReInventions:

The house looked perfect for a honeymoon night, under a starlit sky. She had not realized that this would become her gateway to heaven.
(135 characters)

From Martha Shaw, Poet, Writer, Artist:

Uncle Bob retired to Cape Cod, was widowed, and kept company with others left behind. Wild rabbits popped by to visit regularly.
(128 characters)

From Francine at Woman Walks Max:

We’re here, magic holiday tryst. Smell the rotting house, the foetid lake. Wild apocalyptic skies, fab. Those Undead Trip Advisor 5 stars so true. Just no virgins.
(163 Characters)

From Bobby Fairfield :

I sat watching as the meteor shower continued overhead. If the ones I had been in contact with were coming, I knew it would be tonight.
(135 Characters)

From Lorraine at 25 words more or less:

Magic. They watched the meteors streaking by. “See,” she said, “how beautiful the starscape is out here beyond the city.”
(121 Characters)

From Kathryn, Another Foodie Blogger:

The couple gazed wistfully at the lake cabin from their canoe under the shooting stars, thoughts of retirement dancing in their heads.
(134 Characters)

From Pat at Black Cat Alley:

Craning her neck, she stepped back, star struck and smitten. 
The railing cracked. 
An echoing ‘thwack’ bit the night – she hit the water.
(138 Characters)

From Jane at Jane Daugherty Writes:

As alien missiles whined through the night sky, the Trojan House rose on stilts and bore down on the sleeping town.
(115 Characters)

From Leara at Leara Writes:

Waves lap beneath. Meteors rain. An unassuming girl in an unassuming house extends an inhuman mind across galaxies to a long forgotten home.
(139 Characters)

From Sangbad at Thoughts of Words…a 100 Word Story inspired by the prompt photo. You can read it HERE.
From Stacy at Warning the Stars:
Girl In Paradise
The sky was a cerulean meditation.  Circles of green undulated in waves beneath the pier.  She sighed against the breath-beat of the sea.
(137 Characters)
And…
The Star Shower
The clapboard walls of decorated gray swayed against the waves.  Outside the window, night danced between the sky-sear of falling stars.
(136 Characters)
From Peter at Peter’s Ponderings:
“It wasn’t here yesterday, I swear! How on earth did it get here?”

“I really don’t think earth had anything to do with it.” Perseid replied!

(140  characters)
From Willow at Willowdot21:

The estate agent refused to let the couple view the house.Yet they were drawn in. It was a phantom that fed on souls.The couple were lost.
(138 Characters)

From Irena at Books and Hot Tea:

She lives surrounded by the sea. Earth makes her uneasy, the home of slimy creatures that are even now devouring the flesh of her victims.
(138 characters)

and here’s my tale that kicked it all off:

She had to get away before he killed her. A friend had a remote beach house where she would be safe.
At water’s edge, he watched and waited.
(140 Characters)

_____________________________________________________________

Twittering Tale #19 – 28 February 2017

Here is your photo prompt for this last day of February. What do you see? Have fun and see you next week.

 

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Photo from Pixabay.com

The bitter-sweet fusion of sulfur and gasoline seared her nostrils. She flung the match into the darkened room; the past best left to ashes.
(140 Characters)

~kat


Scapegrace – Friday’s Word of the Day Haiku

scapegrace

Happy Friday! Today’s Word of the Day from Dictionary.com is “Scapegrace”. When I first saw it, I thought of the common term scapegoat, but this word has very little to do with scapegrace, unless of course you are talking about the poor sap who finds himself in the company of a scapegrace; blamed for the unscrupulous deeds of their grace-less scoundrel of a friend! Then the two fit together, albeit uncomfortably, like two peas in a pod.

Scapegrace is defined by various online dictionaries as a complete rogue or rascal; a habitually unscrupulous person; scamp; a reckless and unprincipled reprobate; or a kinder definition states, “A man or boy of reckless and disorderly habits; an incorrigible scamp. Often used playfully.” A common synonym for the word is “black sheep”. You get the picture. You likely have a picture in your mind right now of a particular scapegrace you might know. (not going to mention any names here 😉 )

The word entered the English language in the mid 18th to early 19th century, over 200 years after the word “scapegoat” came into play, which is rather ironic in retrospect. It took two centuries for scapegrace to become a word, leaving poor old scapegoat to face the music alone. One wonders if it was just hiding all those years.

Scapegrace is made up of the verb “scape” which is a variant of “escape” and the noun “grace”, which literally means “one who escapes or flees the grace of God.”

Oh, and there is one other obscure meaning associated with the word. Scapegrace, in ornithological (the branch of zoology that deals with birds) circles, can also refer to a red-throated loon or diver. Like other loons scapegrace loons are primarily fish eaters and monogamous. Their red throat comes into play during mating rituals. They are not particularly graceful on land due to the positioning of their legs toward their back ends. In fact, the word loon is thought to be derived from the Swedish “lom” which means “lame” or “clumsy”, but this is said to give them great mobility and thrust in and under water. They are excellent swimmers taking to the water only days after hatching.

They are also associated with the creation mythology of indigenous peoples, given the name “earth-diver” in one such story. As legend goes, the Red-Throated Diver was asked by a great shaman to bring up the earth from the bottom of the sea. This is how the world’s dry land was formed.

Through the years the loon was also used as a weather predictor. Move over Mr. Ground Hog! Depending on the location, some people believed it would be fair or rainy based on the direction of the scapegrace’s flight (inland – nice weather or out to sea – not so nice). Other communities relied on its various calls to determine the weather; a gaa-gaa-gaa or turkatrae-turkatrae meant nice weather, whereas meowing like a cat was a sure prediction of rain. With few predators the oldest known Red-Throated Loon, found in Sweden, lived to be about 23 years.

So there you have it, a glimpse into another odd word that we rarely use these days with an avian link associated with its meaning. I’m beginning to see a trend here! What to do, what to do with this week’s Haiku…scapegoats, but not scapegoats and scapegraces and loons…

If you’re a scapegoat
you likely know a scapegrace
who is a bad egg!

~kat – 24 February 2017

Have a great weekend!