tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post297258396220232282..comments2023-07-06T07:33:06.262-04:00Comments on * Writers' Spark * Every story has to start somewhere *: Prompt: The map is wrong Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-53986402284075083152013-10-31T00:01:56.257-04:002013-10-31T00:01:56.257-04:00Oh, I like it! Great characterization between the ...Oh, I like it! Great characterization between the sisters. I have a sneaking suspicion that Reilla isn't as "weak" as she first struck me. That whole protective mother thing...Hmm, what could they be heading to?Margaret S. McGrawhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18301618521427459626noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-53904972161811866412013-10-31T00:00:39.764-04:002013-10-31T00:00:39.764-04:00Isn't that funny! Great minds...Isn't that funny! Great minds...Margaret S. McGrawhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18301618521427459626noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-78778308217672154012013-10-30T19:53:01.955-04:002013-10-30T19:53:01.955-04:00Wow, we both did twins! Yours is much more interes...Wow, we both did twins! Yours is much more interesting, however. I still have no idea where my twins are headed...Annenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-51497270918215550422013-10-30T19:43:53.147-04:002013-10-30T19:43:53.147-04:00
Prompt: The map is wrong
The carriage clattere...<br />Prompt: The map is wrong<br /><br /><br />The carriage clattered to a stop. “Argh!”<br /><br />Reilla poked her head out the door, cautiously, cuddling her infant son to her chest. “Iclara?” she asked. They were at the top of a small rise in a short flowered meadow, with a smaller road – consisting only of two wagon tracks instead of a broad surface – heading off to the right.<br /><br />“Double argh!” Iclara leapt to the ground and stamped her feet.<br /><br />“Feel better?” Reilla could not help but smile at her twin’s antics, reminding her of the two of them as children in their mother’s cottage.<br /><br />Iclara put fists on her hips. “I do, thanks.” She folded her legs and abruptly sat. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotten us hopelessly lost. We were supposed to take the first left after Haymark, and I haven’t seen anything go left for hours.”<br /><br />“Would you like me to drive?”<br /><br />“No, that’s fine. You just stay with Jurman. We’ll get... somewhere... eventually.” Iclara stood and climbed up the front of the carriage, and then back down with the rolled map. “But help me here.” She unrolled the map on the step of the carriage. “See, here is Haymark. We’re to go left, there.” She pointed at what should have been a major junction.<br /><br />“Maybe the map is wrong?”<br /><br />Iclara shook her head and wiped an eye with a fist. “We paid enough for it. It had better not be.”<br /><br />“Don’t worry, Sis,” Reilla said, reaching out to stroke Iclara’s head. “We’ll get there. They can’t start without you.”<br /><br />Time writing: 15 minutesAnnenoreply@blogger.com