Everything is different now. For years we had been living in the matrix, a world behind a veil. But now the veil is broken. And you couldn’t go back even if you wanted to. So much has happened since then, the old normal. It's tough here on the other side. Ignorance is bliss, they say. But we can't go back.
Finally! Passed the middle point of my novel’s fifth draft, six weeks past my self-ascribed deadline. I am still plotting away. Plodding away. New characters introduced themselves to my mind, so I am weaving them into the story, then ignore it for days on end. But tonight, it feels though some veil has lifted. Perhaps the end is in sight.
(I am also participating in the Writer's Digest April Poem A Day challenge. Today's poem prompt is "middle" so I thought to merge the two.)
There was a Hong Kong singer, Anita Mui, who had an amazing voice, a kind heart, and a "bad girl's" attitude (in all the right ways). She had her share of lovers but never married, and she was diagnosed with cervical cancer at a young age. She gave her final farewell concert just weeks before she passed. In her final song, she wore a wedding dress and married the stage. Were this possible, I would give my soul to be able to propose to her soul and thank Buddha if she accepted.
I think this is a fantastic idea and a great bit of writing exercise. I'd love to have a go, so here's a quick entry I came up with...
THE BODY
A veil covered the body laying on the gurney.
It looked... peaceful.
He had no idea what he was doing in here. A morgue was not a place to be visiting - but he had stepped through a door and this was where he had ended up.
It felt heavy. It seemed tinged in evil, perhaps tarnished by the evilness of deceit. The darkness of the veil felt demon-like. Orange orbs glowed from within. Then it floated, drifting in the chilly air of the ancient tomb. Wavering to-and-fro indecisive but clearly, equivalently evil. Ancient evil never dies.
Perfumes from far flung bazaars throughout the empire offered exotic enticements. Diaphanous robes swirled like steam from the hot pools that caressed the concubines’ bodies. She moved sinuously, elegantly drawing herself out of the water into the Sultan’s eyeline. Ignoring the hissing jealousy, she paraded her veiled nakedness, swaying seductively to the haunting sound of the tanbur. The Sultan beckoned.
He might regret that. Might.
Everything is different now. For years we had been living in the matrix, a world behind a veil. But now the veil is broken. And you couldn’t go back even if you wanted to. So much has happened since then, the old normal. It's tough here on the other side. Ignorance is bliss, they say. But we can't go back.
Midpoint:
Finally! Passed the middle point of my novel’s fifth draft, six weeks past my self-ascribed deadline. I am still plotting away. Plodding away. New characters introduced themselves to my mind, so I am weaving them into the story, then ignore it for days on end. But tonight, it feels though some veil has lifted. Perhaps the end is in sight.
(I am also participating in the Writer's Digest April Poem A Day challenge. Today's poem prompt is "middle" so I thought to merge the two.)
60-word story prompt “veil” by @Miguel S.
There was a Hong Kong singer, Anita Mui, who had an amazing voice, a kind heart, and a "bad girl's" attitude (in all the right ways). She had her share of lovers but never married, and she was diagnosed with cervical cancer at a young age. She gave her final farewell concert just weeks before she passed. In her final song, she wore a wedding dress and married the stage. Were this possible, I would give my soul to be able to propose to her soul and thank Buddha if she accepted.
I think this is a fantastic idea and a great bit of writing exercise. I'd love to have a go, so here's a quick entry I came up with...
THE BODY
A veil covered the body laying on the gurney.
It looked... peaceful.
He had no idea what he was doing in here. A morgue was not a place to be visiting - but he had stepped through a door and this was where he had ended up.
And now, he had to know.
He lifted the veil.
The body was himself... 😎
Thanks for joining Chris! Great job. 😁
Thanks Miguel! It's a fun bit of writing exercise and I enjoyed it... 😎
Very macabre appropriate!
It felt heavy. It seemed tinged in evil, perhaps tarnished by the evilness of deceit. The darkness of the veil felt demon-like. Orange orbs glowed from within. Then it floated, drifting in the chilly air of the ancient tomb. Wavering to-and-fro indecisive but clearly, equivalently evil. Ancient evil never dies.
The wind blows Helen’s tunic.
The evening moon reveals her tunic
A silver reflection,
A veil behind a tear dropped face;
Dark hair, deep-set encircled eyes,
Shadow-filled cheeks.
Helen catapults the beholder’s
Glances to persuade armies minds;
To remember yesterdays Trojan heroes.
Yet no one knows the years that passed,
The night veils the rain that continues war.
corpse bride vibes!
Harem
Perfumes from far flung bazaars throughout the empire offered exotic enticements. Diaphanous robes swirled like steam from the hot pools that caressed the concubines’ bodies. She moved sinuously, elegantly drawing herself out of the water into the Sultan’s eyeline. Ignoring the hissing jealousy, she paraded her veiled nakedness, swaying seductively to the haunting sound of the tanbur. The Sultan beckoned.
So vivid, like always.
Thanks so much
Deliciously dark.
Miguel! Creepy story. PERFECT
Thank you Gloria! I'm not sure if you had a chance to take a look at this one yet :) https://fictiondealer.substack.com/p/microdosing-100mg-of-imminent?r=2l54ej
No. I missed it. Thank you. 🙏
Very Macabre Monday
My favorite :)