tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post1465531527280932593..comments2023-07-06T07:33:06.262-04:00Comments on * Writers' Spark * Every story has to start somewhere *: Prompt: This Stone Is Dancing on the Inside Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-54329724266541680172013-05-14T00:16:13.702-04:002013-05-14T00:16:13.702-04:00One of my FB friends said how much he liked your p...One of my FB friends said how much he liked your piece here, and I wanted to pass that on :)Margaret S. McGrawhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18301618521427459626noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-38697838116730164202013-05-07T15:08:34.445-04:002013-05-07T15:08:34.445-04:00Nice poetry! I really liked the end.Nice poetry! I really liked the end.Annenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-89729230894433765752013-05-03T00:27:40.470-04:002013-05-03T00:27:40.470-04:00Very nice! I got chills at the end! Good scene set...Very nice! I got chills at the end! Good scene setting and character development in a tight space. Would love to see more!Margaret S. McGrawhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18301618521427459626noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-939459358706795852013-05-02T18:40:20.406-04:002013-05-02T18:40:20.406-04:00Prompt: This Stone Is Dancing on the Inside
Kyl...Prompt: This Stone Is Dancing on the Inside<br /><br /> <br />Kylie looked from the stones to the sage, and back to the stones. She bit her lip. She felt the gaze of the sage on the top of her head, as she bowed it in her kneel before the rug scattered with stones. She was going to fail--again. They all seemed the same, just stones.<br /> <br />The storm outside rattled the shuttered windows, and the candle flames flickered. Kylie closed her eyes. She hovered a hand over the stones, listening for a change in the sage's breathing that might indicate which stone was the special stone, the one whose choice would show she was one of them--one who could be allowed to learn and to, someday, try to be a sage as well. But the sage was too schooled, and revealed nothing.<br /> <br />Kylie opened her eyes and dropped her shoulders. "I can't tell. I'm sorry."<br /> <br />"Perhaps the storm is interfering," the sage said. "Try again tomorrow."<br /> <br />Kylie stood. "Perhaps," she said, meaning no such thing. There had been an excuse each time, and each time Kylie had tried again and felt nothing. She would not try again. <br /><br />_Just pick one at random_, Frank had suggested. _You could be right. And if you're wrong, they'll let you know._ Perhaps he had a point--this...nothing...was immensely frustrating. Wasn't it the prospective student who was meant to ask for one more chance, not the teacher who kept offering it? Offering it so much Kylie felt even worse when she kept failing.<br /><br />She turned to leave the room, and felt--something, like a tap on her back. She looked, but the sage was still kneeling beside the stones. She took a step toward the door, but found herself veering right. There was a pattern, tapping out, just slightly different than the sound of the wind outside. A stone was perched on the edge of a shelf, precarious, half over the air and shoved next to a glass bottle--Kylie was startled it had not shaken itself off.<br /><br />She lifted the stone. "This one."<br /><br />"Why?" asked the sage.<br /><br />"Because it's dancing on the inside," Kylie said.<br /><br />The sage smiled. <br />Annenoreply@blogger.com