There's no walls & no ceilings as far as I know
just the echo of scars and the unbeaten road
It’s all in the arrival, the entrance, the beginning. How did your story start, and with what words, and did you draw your audience in quick enough? The where, the what, the who… those don’t ever matter as much as the how.
Or at least, that’s what they say.
Never mind who they are.
In this case, the where was by the ocean, the cliffs rising up from the brine like a jagged fortress, the spray filling the air already laden with the scent of salt. Gulls cried and circled, as sea fowl tend to, endlessly searching for small fish and crabs. The sun had risen but it was early yet, and the heat was still finding its way into all the crevices, and while it was busy making the stones warm, a lazy sea breeze ruffled along the edges, idly moving through tall grasses and heather, displacing bees as they wandered through the air toward thistle blossoms.
It sounds peaceful doesn’t it?
It’s one of those situations where ‘if the tree falls and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?’ moments, where everything is still and sweet and picturesque…
You know what happens next, right? Please don’t tell me this is going to surprise you.
She arrived.
Where did she come from? We’re never sure. But she soared through the morning air, bright blue wings catching the early rays. She spied the cliffs and headed toward them, braids strung out behind her, excited to see what new land she was encountering. The small mare folded in her wings and dove downward, fully prepared to make the most elegant of landings –
There was a noise like a roar, and wetness, and she snorted and spun, lurching sideways through the air as her wings tried to catch up to the frantic messages her brain was sending. The land came up a bit quicker than intended and she landed roughly, dirt and grass and pebbles spraying as she skidded to a stop. Did she land on her feet? Almost. She’d ended somehow on her bum, eying the cliffs and the water that had betrayed her by daring to gush upwards when she hadn’t been looking.
She snorted again, quieter, and picked herself up, stretching her wings out fully before folding them against her backside. A few loose feathers drifted gently down to the ground and she left them there, a silent apology to the earth she’d torn up. It had extracted a toll from her, too, her right haunch was scraped, but nothing that had broken the surface. She’d be sore for a few days, but that was nothing new in the world of Cress Crash LandingsTM.
Finally, satisfied that she was mostly intact, the little blue jay glanced around, bright yellow-orange eyes landing on the one person that had likely born witness to her marvelous entrance. She grinned and trotted toward them, the word embarrassment nowhere to be found.
“Did you see that?!” She shook her head, as if she could hardly believe it herself. “Woo! Ocean tried to get me!” She shifted her wings a little against her back, the crest of feathers on her head standing up as she looked over this hapless victim of her now undying friendship. “I’m Cress! Who are you? Where are we?”
Ah, she never really did well with small talk.
Or at least, that’s what they say.
Never mind who they are.
In this case, the where was by the ocean, the cliffs rising up from the brine like a jagged fortress, the spray filling the air already laden with the scent of salt. Gulls cried and circled, as sea fowl tend to, endlessly searching for small fish and crabs. The sun had risen but it was early yet, and the heat was still finding its way into all the crevices, and while it was busy making the stones warm, a lazy sea breeze ruffled along the edges, idly moving through tall grasses and heather, displacing bees as they wandered through the air toward thistle blossoms.
It sounds peaceful doesn’t it?
It’s one of those situations where ‘if the tree falls and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?’ moments, where everything is still and sweet and picturesque…
You know what happens next, right? Please don’t tell me this is going to surprise you.
She arrived.
Where did she come from? We’re never sure. But she soared through the morning air, bright blue wings catching the early rays. She spied the cliffs and headed toward them, braids strung out behind her, excited to see what new land she was encountering. The small mare folded in her wings and dove downward, fully prepared to make the most elegant of landings –
There was a noise like a roar, and wetness, and she snorted and spun, lurching sideways through the air as her wings tried to catch up to the frantic messages her brain was sending. The land came up a bit quicker than intended and she landed roughly, dirt and grass and pebbles spraying as she skidded to a stop. Did she land on her feet? Almost. She’d ended somehow on her bum, eying the cliffs and the water that had betrayed her by daring to gush upwards when she hadn’t been looking.
She snorted again, quieter, and picked herself up, stretching her wings out fully before folding them against her backside. A few loose feathers drifted gently down to the ground and she left them there, a silent apology to the earth she’d torn up. It had extracted a toll from her, too, her right haunch was scraped, but nothing that had broken the surface. She’d be sore for a few days, but that was nothing new in the world of Cress Crash LandingsTM.
Finally, satisfied that she was mostly intact, the little blue jay glanced around, bright yellow-orange eyes landing on the one person that had likely born witness to her marvelous entrance. She grinned and trotted toward them, the word embarrassment nowhere to be found.
“Did you see that?!” She shook her head, as if she could hardly believe it herself. “Woo! Ocean tried to get me!” She shifted her wings a little against her back, the crest of feathers on her head standing up as she looked over this hapless victim of her now undying friendship. “I’m Cress! Who are you? Where are we?”
Ah, she never really did well with small talk.
