'The Gift' - a short story challenge

[Brighitta]

Here's the first challange - a good way to excersise in writing.
This story has to be called 'The Gift', should be between 400 and 500 words.
Words that have to be included - 'glowing' 'fear' 'moon' and 'hands'.
Good luck!

PS. The deadline will be in one month.

[Nadia]

The Gift

She looked up. The moon was shining beautifully down at her. She lifted her hands to the glowing sphere. Her eyes closed in concentration as she muttered strange words that the villagers had never heard of.

Her voice grew louder and louder, then settled into a light hum. The circle of the earth she was standing on shone suddenly, the mud turning into blinding light. The people drew back, wary of the bizarre happenings, yet fascinated by the sight of the young girl drawing upon her power.

She continued her chanting, the words flowing from her lips and into the surroundings, as it seemed. The very trees stopped their rustling, it was as though they were paying careful attention. Animals, unafraid of the mystical light, crept close.

Time passed, but the hum never wavered. Instead, it grew stronger, as though there was Life in the tuneless tune.

The villagers started to twitter. After all, she was barely of age. She could be lying about her promises. They could all be heading for disaster.

The hum suddenly stopped. Darkness enveloped the entire place. The taste of Death was there, as though the Evil had penetrated the barriers. She drew a breath and blew into the cold air. The hidden moon appeared again, and her voice rose in song, a song of words so eerie that the wind disappeared.

The villagers now had fear carved on their faces. They held each other close, hugging themselves for any warmth they could get. The song wound around them, bound them, captured them in its embrace.

She sang and sang, driving away the Evil, restoring the happiness. Yet the song drew on and on. The animals near her looked up at the moon and the trees waved their branches in a tribute.

Her voice rose in pitch till it could hardly be heard. The mud circle suddenly flared up again and spun around, the column of white light hiding her from view. The light spread to the surroundings, bathing all in a wonderful sensation of numbness. Wounds were healed, sorrows were drowned and anger dissipated. It was as though they had been born again.

The moon shone more brightly, and her voice was at the loudest. Then all only knew bliss. No Evil.

Her arms fell to her sides. There was silence. Animals, plants, villagers all were as though stunned. They stared at the girl in the circle.

The girl who had brought peace.

The girl who had wrought magic.

The girl with the Gift.

420 words. Good or no?

[Brighitta]

Very good! The atmosphere is perfect, and the style is smooth and flows well. Overall, it was really good!

[Nadia]

YAY! ;D Happy, happy, happy! Thanks so much. D'you know that this is one of the rare times that people read my piece and really comment on it [style, etc] ?

[Brighitta]

Really? Well, if you were writing a longer piece, you could include more description, setting, background, etc. But as it had to be short, it is excellent. The ending and beginning are also (suitably) dramatic

[subtlecollision]

The Gift

It was magnificent… breathtaking… more than I could digest. The paragon of fashion, my dress existed as a trophy of famous courtiers. Suffocating me like my corset, the decorations, ornate and celestial, celebrated what I dreaded most.

I palpitated down the aisle, keen to avoid the smiles to which I could only succumb. If it had not been for propriety and a lack of magical powers, I would purloin those smiles and replace them with what best mirrored my emotions: contemptuous scowls.

With the sweet, mesmerizing tune whirling in my ears, I ceased walking and closed my eyes. For a fleeting second, I imagined my desire: a man with glowing cheeks and twinkling eyes to warm me.

Alternatively, I saw a cadaverous gentleman of five and forty. A wolfish grin was perched on his chapped lips, and his eyes lighted at the sight of me. My gaze instinctively turned to his rugged hands in which I placed my own.

The melody ended and Father’s words of long ago haunted me, “Had my business flourished, I would acquiesce to your plea. Would you not rather be married than starved?”

My own timid voice had replied, “If it means I shall be starved of love, yes.”

My situation was one often giggled about: a thirteen-year old girl being united with a man her father’s age. However, experiencing it produced the opposite of giggles.

As the wedding vows were exchanged, I pleaded Father with my teary eyes. I beseeched him with my furrowed brow. And yet, his countenance betrayed no sympathy.

Alongside melancholy, fear took residence inside me. I feared those stormy nights when neither the stars nor shining moon could compensate for my agony. I feared wondering how my life could have turned out. I feared regrets.

The line-- my last ray of hope-- was about to fade away. The pastor, in his almighty and beloved voice, asked if anyone had any objections. I held my breath, wanting, in vain, to discord mine…

I realized, however, that I could only obey Father. During these many fortnights of penury, he thought of me and only me. My disobedience would be a terrible way to repay him. Thus, I swallowed my consternation and smiled meekly.

“I object,” Father murmured in a sudden manner that made my heart race. Both my bridegroom and I stared at him incredulously.

This was quite a wedding gift.

Moments later, I fled from the church, my skirts gliding over the petal-dappled carpet. Flinging open the door, I saw, with a heaving chest, a man with glowing cheeks and twinkling eyes.


431 Words. Constructive Cristicism more than welcome.

[Brighitta]

Aww! That's cute. I like how you kept the whole deal of the gift until the very end. Well done!

[Katrina]

Nadia, I enjoyed your story. It was mysterious and subtle, and kept the reader's attention.

Subtlecollision, your piece was touching. You have a good command of the language.

[subtlecollision]

Thank-you both very much. I am pleased to hear your opinions.

[Brighitta]

'The Gift'

The [glow=red,2,300]moon[/glow] was a golden orb in the velvet sky; a cold, nonchalant face that did not care about the two people on the stone street. One was a girl of fifteen, lily-white and limp, slumped in the hands of a man slightly older than her. He was sobbing silently as he watched a trickle of blood run from her mouth. Her emerald eyes were turning glassy.

He lifted his bloodied [glow=red,2,300]hands[/glow] - crimson from her blood - and howled like a wounded animal. Her life was fading like a dying ember, and all he could do was sit there and watch. Watch as his loved one was leaving him.

Then, he remembered something. It was like a memory of a dream, or a dream of a memory. Something lost in the depths of his mind, buried underneath years of everyday worries and mundane thoughts. A minuscule, glowing speck of light was what it seemed to be, glowing somewhere in a faraway corner of his being.

In his [glow=red,2,300]fear[/glow] and desperation, he grabbed for it, simultaneously placing his fingers on her blood-stained blouse. The light began to grow, until it became a sea of something shining, shimmering and glittering. It was overwhelming, overpowering, it filled his head and made his mind short-circuit. He gasped for air, as if his lungs were being sqeezed, his eyes huge and saucer-like.

Just when he though he would lose control, lose himself in that light, dissolve in it like in some acid, it began to flow out of his being. His hands tingled, vibrating a little, and became warm.

Surprised, he looked at his fingers, which now seemed to be made of solid moonlight.

Before he had the time to become afraid, or shocked, before he could even understand what was happening, her eyes snapped open...

[Katrina]

Annie, that was very interesting. I almost regret that you have to write it as a short story, I want to hear more.

[Brighitta]

Thanks!
It was really just something that I wrote for a class assignment a while ago... Any ideas for anotehr challenge?

[Katrina]

Seven times that day, I looked at my watch. And seven times that day, it read 12:45. This was my own fault, I knew, but I still felt great irritation. I shouldn’t have wound the hands back and forth all night while I couldn’t sleep. I did, after all, have a book I could have read, and I could even have stared at the moon, but my watch was so much more fun to play with.

Now, I regretted it, trying to tell the owner of the repair shop why the hands of my watch had stopped their customary locomotion. He never did have the decency to talk to me as though I were a human being; he always addressed me as I imagined he would a dog. Although I doubted whether he would ever have one – the poor thing would probably run away from fear of the putrid old man.

“Can’t do it,” he grunted, dropping the watch onto his desk. “You screwed up the mechanism.” I was sure I heard him mutter something rude under his breath, but I pressed on.

“Can’t you at least try, sir?” No use not being polite. He ignored me and went back to tinkering with the heap of metal piled on his grimy bench.

“Please, for my sake.” No response. Finally I lost my temper.

“What do you have against me? I’ve always treated you with respect, why can’t you at least afford me the same courtesy? Does decency mean so little to you that you have to ignore me?”

The old man didn’t reply, just shook a little as his hands continued to play with the little pile on his desk. I closed my mouth in case I said anything more, and left the shop.

It was only late that evening, after I’d had a long fume, that I realised I’d left the watch there, but by that stage I didn’t care any longer. It wasn’t as though the watch was worth anything now.

The next morning when I stepped into my office, I noticed my colleagues were smiling, and as I neared my cubicle, their smiles grew broader still. I soon found the cause: A bunch of ten yellow roses on my desk, and a package. Imagine my surprise when I looked at the card and saw it was from the old man!

“Yesterday I was given a great gift,” the note read. “You walked into my shop and didn’t take any nonsense from me. Your standing up for yourself showed me that I shouldn’t give anyone any nonsense. Because of you, I have seen what it is to be kind. Thank you.

“I also lied a little. Your watch wasn’t impossible to fix, it was just difficult. It’s in the package, and you’ve already paid in full.”

I looked up and I’m sure my face was glowing.

[victoria]

Will there be a vote or something at the end just for the fun of it, or is that maybe not a good idea...

[subtlecollision]

A.F. Riley, I agree with Katrina, I would also like to read more. That was nicely written and kept my interest.

Kartina, what a sweet story! There is something about your style that is most admirable-- it just runs so smoothly and seems so natural.