WRiTE CLUB 2012 – Round 15

I hope everyone in the states is enjoying their Labor Day!  I know Mrs. Mojo Rising is because she won round 12 and will be moving into our play-off rounds.  Her opponent, Aidlinn, will have his/her piece returned to the pool for a chance at re-selection for a future bout, and as always writers who have battled once are welcome to submit a different piece if they so wish. You can check my WRiTE CLUB 2012 results page for a breakdown of all the winners along with links to all of the writing samples.  

I'm changing this week's schedule just a tad because I'm taking part in Justine Dell's book tour on Friday, so the third contest this week will go up on Thursday instead of Friday. And you'll not want to miss that third bout because I'll be discussing how the play-offs will be organized and what both the contestants...and you...can expect.

Everybody settled in and ready for some word to word combat?

Here are this week's randomly selected WRiTER's.

Standing in the far corner, weighing in at 489 words, please welcome to the ring……..Joy Frost.

“What if she doesn’t come, Dekhan?” Lara asked, pacing the floor.

“She will be here.” Dekhan said.

“Damn her, she’s afraid. I knew it!” Lara grumbled. She impatiently drew back the musty curtain and peered into the darkness. A single shadowy figure slinked through the moonlight toward them.

Elyse had come. A breath of relief escaped Lara’s lips. She whisked the door open and yanked the figure inside. "You weren't followed?"

"No." For a moment they stared at one another and an awkward silence filled the small cottage. It had been ten years.

The rush of emotions was uncomfortable, but Lara smiled. "Come in and warm yourself, Elyse.” She gestured to the crackling fire casting an orange glow in the room. “Dekhan, stand guard outside and leave us.” Dekhan nodded and left them alone.

"Are you sure about this, Lara?" Elyse asked gazing into the dancing flames.

"I don't see any alternative."
 

"It could cost us our lives," said Elyse.

“Our lives won’t mean anything if we don’t.” Lara watched her. She wondered if Elyse was scared, but she didn’t detect fear in her twin sister’s electric green eyes. Fear always registered in Elyse’s eyes, sometimes with rivers of tears which diluted the green to almost brown. Lara had seen it before- like the day of their grand double wedding to the princes. Somehow Elyse had known the misery the future would bring... and Lara hadn’t listened. Now father was gone and their kingdom cleaved in two. She would listen if Elyse had fears this time.

But she didn’t. Elyse stood up and brushed off her sleek riding clothes. “I am ready, sister.”

Lara nodded. She raised her left hand into the air. Elyse lifted her right and pressed her palm to Lara’s. Together they chanted, “Panyapravda vidho sacremosa.” An aura of blue energy formed around them. Lara allowed its soothing warmth to seep into her mind. She focused her thoughts and mentally reached out to Elyse. Their minds merged into one powerful force and the aura swirled in a vortex around them. They raised their free hands high and two gleaming swords materialized into their grasp.

Their palms unclasped and the aura disappeared. Lara inspected the swords in the firelight. “Now all we have to do is raise a rebellion before the Vortigen find us.”

Elyse broke into a smile. “I’ve missed your optimism.” Elyse sheathed her sword and made her way to the door. “I’ll send word when my people are ready.”

A sudden twinge crawled up Lara’s neck. She wasn’t ready for Elyse to leave, what if she never saw her again? Lara reached out and embraced her. “Good luck Elyse, trust no one,” the words caught in her throat. I love you, sister.

Elyse squeezed her hand. “I’ll see you again soon.”
 

Lara watched her sister, her best friend, disappear in the night. She turned away. “Come on Dekhan, we have a rebellion to start.”

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And in the other corner, weighing in at 500 words, let me introduce to you ……..Satellite Heart.

It was a dark and stormy afternoon. It had no yet begun to precipitate, but the sky was a moldy blue and the evening before had already provided enough warning of what was to come. I sat beside a window and waited for something to happen. There were a lot of thoughts going through my mind, and none of them had to do with the weather. More than a month ago I had been fired from my job. With no prospects and less hope, I worried about my future and the possibility that I could be ruined, and it was all because of a conspiracy I couldn’t prove.

My employer never came out and said so, but for months I had been manipulated, fed a series of phone calls that originated from our own offices, baiting me into a trap I couldn’t get out of, waiting for me to fail. During the exit interview, conducted over the phone and with someone I’d never met, they played cool until I started to reveal the full brunt of my frustrations. This had been a place where you were expected to remain calm, even in the midst of interminable abuse, from strangers who didn’t mind insulting you in the process of rebelling against a system they suddenly found to be unjust. The real joke was that I became the victim, a hapless martyr to a cause and recipients who would never know and would always be ungrateful. I sat there dejected, utterly crushed.

My phone sat in my pocket and every time it rang I was disappointed, never what I wanted, never someone who would understand, or offer me a job. I guess I felt deserving, and not a little annoyed, and stewed over a mystery that would never be solved. How do you find answers when you’ve been told to never return? Without a reason, it was not like I was going to show up at the office and just hope someone slipped up. I had already given up the chance to go back. They mailed me anything that I still needed from them, after the accordion file I walked away with and not much else. I even left my candy in the drawer.

Wind was hustling the trees, and for a moment I shook myself out of a mindless revelry to watch, and listened to a bird sing its confession to the world. The only thing I had left was a desire to forget. I could never move on as long as the past weighed me down instead of doing its job, help point a way forward. I shunned the window and imagined that I was in a cave, surrounded by images of the great and tragic heroes, those who challenged fate, and for whom living to tell about it was now and forever a moot point. I realized that the only way to survive was to die. The end of my ego would be the beginning.

It started to rain.

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For you newcomers out there...if you wish to vote you first must sign up on the Linky List you’ll find at the end of the link provided on the badge below.  Please remind your friends to make a selection as well.  The voting will remain open until noon Thursday.

Remember, here in WRiTE CLUB, it’s not about the last man/woman standing, it’s about who knocks the audience out!