FF - It was the anger of that summer moon..

Fast Fiction is fiction written fast. The object is to get your brain thinking about a given subject without interference from “reason”. Go for the 30 minute time limit.

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JillStar
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FF - It was the anger of that summer moon..

Postby JillStar » Sun May 17, 2009 9:34 am

jillstar wrote: Fast Fiction is just that... fiction written fast. Please visit What is FAST FICTION for more information.

Look at the subject for today's Fast Fiction at the end of this post... once you have the slightest beginning to your story… begin to write. Don't stop to ponder the meaning behind your writing or try to "fix" it so it's perfect... just write.

If you want to include your Fast Fiction finished product on WordTrip, simply add it to this thread. We would love it!

REMINDER: Please keep your stories PG13 if posted on the site. If you want a critique after you are complete, please consider using your writing group for help in that area or send a PM to one of us.

... try to stick to the 30 minutes time limit but feel free to take longer... ready, set... WRITE!

SUBJECT: It was the 'anger' of that summer moon...
Last edited by JillStar on Mon Jun 29, 2009 6:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby timberline » Sun May 17, 2009 2:07 pm

If it generates any ideas, they're also known as the Strawberry Moon: Buck Moon, when the new antlers of buck deer push out of their foreheads in coatings of velvety fur (aka, the Full Thunder Moon, for the thunderstorms most frequent during this time); Sturgeon Moon. (A few tribes also knew it as the Full Red Moon because, as the Moon rises, it appears reddish through any sultry haze. It was also called the Green Corn Moon or Grain Moon.)
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Postby Saphyre » Wed Jul 01, 2009 4:25 pm

Confusion

It was the anger of that summer moon. The way it mocked. The way, it almost looked hurt, or… betrayed. The way it hung there- so haughty, so beautiful, so far, and yet somehow also close, a dream daring you to reach so that it could be snatched back away and laugh. Okay… so maybe I was projecting. A little. Or a lot. Externalizing this pain so I could be mad at the moon or the stars or my dreams or… anything but her. Anything.

Magics- I’d rather admit I was wrong than face that again. No- I would definitely rather spend the rest of my life hating that stupid moon than facing what I’d done. Or hadn’t done. I wasn’t sure anymore. I didn’t want to kiss her, certainly didn’t want her to kiss me back, but I also didn’t want to pull away, and surely I didn’t care that she’d been hurt when I had stalked off. I couldn’t be bothered one way or the other if that moon up there was crying in her bed… oh I was in such trouble.

A deep breath. Another, deeper breath. Only then did I remember to exhale.

Then I took another breath.

But my hands were still shaking. Magics curse it all! She was just a girl. Just one gentle, simple, warm-hearted, girl with a caustic wit and security issues and- and the most beautiful smile- which she didn’t use nearly enough and certainly never at me no matter what I did for her- who was also extremely ungrateful and frustratingly silent and- and yet somehow pensive and wise- if you could even get her to speak- with that quiet demeanor and shy tilt of her head- all the better to glance out from under her eyelashes from- while she quietly plotted how best to annoy me best or take over the world or…

What was this? I Hated her. With a capitol H. Hated. Or… didn’t I? I had, but… should I? well, shouldn’t I? Well, was there any reason why I should? But I certainly didn’t feel for her. Didn’t spend all day thinking of something clever to make her turn around just so I’d have an excuse to engage in another enlightening battle of the witty barbs. I did NOT spend an entire evening working up the courage to taunt her about tonight’s dance in a hope I’d somehow get her to come with me- purely so I could stand her up, I'm sure. And, whatever it was- that feeling in the pit of my stomach when she had come in on Jason’s arm looking positively gourgeous- that feeling had not been jealousy. I had not wished Jason a swift and untimely death so that I could steal her away. Or if- IF- I had, it was only because I could better insult her while she was in my arms, dancing with me.

And then she had been in my arms, and… and she’d smelled so good. And I’d said… something. I think it was insulting. Something about Jason, I think, and she’d laughed, and smiled at me. Somehow, I had earned that mysterious half-smile that was also half-smirk that she seemed to reserve only for me. Because she never smiled her real, sweet, charming, innocent smile at me. No, my smiles were also slightly tempered with an edge that stole their sweetness. Anyhow, she’d smiled. And then she’d responded, and I think it was an insult, but to Jason and not to me. And I’d smirked. Because I could never smile properly when she didn’t. And then- and then- and then I was kissing her. Just like that. AND she was kissing me. Sort of. And then she wasn’t, because I’d pulled away. And I’d mumbled… something. I think it was an apology. And I’d left.

And magics curse that stupid moon, but didn’t I know I’d screwed up. There was no reason for it to be there- sitting perfectly smugly in the sky like some sort of happy little, well, whatever-it-was-made-of! If I liked her. If I wanted her to dance with me, or talk with me, or laugh with me, or… or smile at me, I’d go in there and we would. But I didn’t want it. no, I most certainly didn’t. Didn’t want my rival and competition who was possibly the only one at this school intelligent enough to understand me and to carry on a decent conversation with to be crying because of me. If she even was crying. She probably wasn’t. But, then, she was a woman. And women were always crying. But if I wanted to, moon, I could very well and go in there and find her and explain and tell her how I felt and have a very nice evening with her. If I wanted to, I could kiss her again and do it properly this time. And I could apologize. In fact, just to prove it to you, you angry summer moon, I think I will. So there.
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Please always feel free to critique anything I write as I am by no means perfect!
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Postby Saphyre » Wed Jul 01, 2009 4:27 pm

If you can follow that, you deserve a metal of some sort, I'm sure. It just kinda hit me. Thought it would be fun. BUT! to my credit I don't THINK I employed any run on sentences. Lots of fragments, but no runons. (That I saw).
~Saphyre

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus…

For by grace you have been saved through faith… it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.

Please always feel free to critique anything I write as I am by no means perfect!
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Postby pengwenn » Wed Jul 01, 2009 4:57 pm

There were lots of fragments and cut offs, but I think that goes with the stream of consciousness of hte character.
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Postby Writingmom » Thu Oct 22, 2009 11:05 pm

Okay...I've been away too long and need something to get my juices flowing, so I'm gonna try something. Lets see how it goes.


The pain surprised him as he watched her stumble through the bushes. He'd thought to be past all feeling. They had been through so much in the past year that he had begun to wonder if his nerves were past feeling.

Now, watching her clothing catch on the briars, arms scratched and bleeding because they had lost all the weapons that would have enabled them to cut through the nightmare of briarfield, pain cut through his heart as if it were a real knife.

He had promised her parents she would be safe. What could happen? There was no war in the land, they were on an errand from the high council. Their older daughter had traveled the land over and not come to any harm. Of course, he had been there to make sure of that, so why should it be any different with his own wife?

Unfortunately, a week after we set out things had gone from bad to worse. He had heard Lady Aria telling his wife that it was the moon.

"It's an angry summer moon," she'd said with a sigh, poking at the embers of their fire. "It comes around about every ten years or so, and it is upon us now."

"What does angry moon mean?" Alena had insisted, her tone tired. The long day had brought no news of their hunt back then, and he hated to see her so tired so soon.

Her sister had sighed. "It means that men are moved to anger more swiftly, plants are quicker on the defense and fate works it's worst against all men."

It had made him groan then, and he groaned in remembering it now. How long could an angry moon possibly last? He'd thought moon cycles were 28 days, not 12 months.

"Enough already!" he yelled, managing to grasp hold of his wife's shredded cloak. He pulled her slim body close and held her tight, hearing Lady Aria's struggles behind him. He held Alena tightly for several moments as she worked her way to them, and then turned to face her.

"This has got to end," he insisted, his voice hoarse. "She can't take much more of this, look at her!"

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here," Alena said, pulling away from him. "I'm as tough as both of you, I can survive this."

Lady Aria stepped forward and shook her head, her eyes sad at the sight of her sister. She herself showed the ravages of the field, though not quite as badly as her sister. Her powers held some sway against the sharp thorns, but only for so long.

"I think he's right, Alena," she said tenderly, reaching out to touch a particularly inflamed cut along her cheekbone. "This is more than any normal person could handle."

"Then why is Morgon okay?" Alena burst out, tears in her eyes, which made him pull her back to his chest.

"He is a guard of the council," her sister reminded her. "He has some protection in that."

The field grew silent as they stood in the small clearing that had been made in their passage. Morgon held his wife in a fierce grip, knowing what needed to be done, and hating it at the same time. Once again he would have to be separated from her. Would their lives never be normal? Would he never get to play with his children outside a home by the river?

"Let me send you home, Alena," the Lady said, her voice low and soothing. "Mother will heal you and you can help your children grow healthy and strong. They need their mother."

Alena burst into tears. "Oh Morgon, how can I bear to be without you again?"

He tilted her head back and kissed her tenderly. "You know how to reach me, whenever you desire. Or did you forget?"

She sighed and nodded, lowering her head to his chest. "No, I haven't forgotten."

"Give our children my love," he said softly, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind a small ear. "At least they will have their mother."

She kissed him fast and then turned to her sister, as if afraid if they waited any longer she would loose her will. "Okay. Send me now."
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