Hello Fiction Lovers!
Today I thought I would share a piece of my own writing so you all can get an idea of my style and in order to do something different than just sharing my thoughts. The first line comes from a prompt from thefirstline.com. Please let me know what you think or let me know if you have any questions.
By the fifteenth month of the drought, the lake no longer held her secrets. The girl gave a harsh smile at the dry, cracked ground where the water used to be. She started to laugh but it quickly became a cough from the lack of moisture in her mouth and throat.
Everyone else was gone now. The village was as deserted and dead as the greenery that used to surround it. Now all that was left was the dust—enough dust to bury the world if it wasn’t always getting whipped up by the wind—and the girl and the dried lake with the corpse.
The girl could no longer remember any color that wasn’t a variation of brown, white or black. Even the sky was a light brown because of the dust. Green and blue belonged to another time like a dream when she drank from a withered cactus just to feel something wet on her tongue. Another time when the water witch stole her secrets.
But now the witch was dead; her life gone as the final drop of the lake got soaked up by the sun. The girl slipped over the dried lake’s rim and skidded and stepped her way to bottom of the deep depression. In the middle of the lake, at the deepest point when it was full, lay the corpse. It was a shrunken thing. Pale grey skin stretched taut over frail bones and faded into fish scales at the witch’s waist. The witch had a tail where a person’s legs would be and scales had flaked off to look like tiny dew drops on the cracked ground. The witch’s corpse was curled in, around something that it held tight to its chest.
The girl snarled and dropped to her knees. She pried back the corpse’s fingers, ignoring any pops and cracks that got swept away in the wind. As soon as she made a big enough opening the girl stuck her hand in and pulled out a glass marble. Within the marble a rainbow swirled. The girl stared, entranced, for a long while, trying to remember the names of all the colors. A slow smile curved the corners of her mouth. Then the girl brought the marble to her lips and swallowed it. She knew the moment it entered her belly; a relaxing coldness flowed out from her stomach to suffuse her from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head. The girl bent her head back and laughed, this time without coughing.
Finally, she had her secrets back. Now she longer had to only tell the truth and avoid revealing questions. Now she had her old, secret power returned.
The girl tested out her ability to lie.
“I will never forgive you for taking my secrets,” she told the corpse.
“I don’t blame the villagers for leaving in the night,” she told the ground.
“I’m not lonely,” the girl murmured in the dust.
The girl rubbed her aching eyes. There wasn’t any moisture to squeeze out of them. The girl lowered her hands to stare at the witch, “Why did you leave me?”
The witch’s corpse was slowly being covered in dust. The girl bent again and tried to brush it off, but the wind just replaced what she removed. The girl scowled in frustration. The coldness started to well up in her fingertips. She concentrated on the feeling until it became an unbearable buzz.
The girl stood and then swept her hand through the air above her head. The air grew damp and heavy carrying the scent of rain. Lightning cut through the dust and thunder rolled moments later. The girl concentrated on the coldness in her fingers again before sweeping her hand back through the air. Lightning and thunder, and then she felt something on her face. The girl wiped it off and looked at the water on her fingertip. Then another droplet fell, and another and another until the ground began to darken from the rain. The water poured down and the girl didn’t take pleasure in the sudden end of the long drought. This was her last secret the witch stole: the ability to make the world cry for her because tears hadn’t wet her eyes since the day she was born.