I had something much grander in mind when I came up with today’s writing challenge. Steampunk levels of grand but instead I just hated the idea of writing something literally about a gateway. So I decided to write about a character who goes through a HUGE upheaval during one of my short stories. It was very enjoyable to write but initially I wasn’t entirely certain about where to take it. It’s been brought to my attention that I spend a bit too long setting the scene and I was very conscious of this whilst I was writing this piece. It was good that I noticed this though as I finally managed to bring the short writing around to a purpose, even if the pacing really is atrocious. This is my second writing challenge in a row where I’ve written two pages rather than one and I’m quietly hoping that this indicates a higher level of creativity now flowing through my blood stream. I’m incredibly happy I decided to start doing this writing challenge, it feels so good to write everyday even if so much of it is drivel!
Here’s a transcript of today’s writing challenge:
I have existed forever. As long as liquids have fallen upon this Earth, I have observed. I watched as animals became men and women who could finally put their mutual lust and hatred for me into words. They cursed me for drowning their young. They begged for me during a draught.
I stared at the gate that will take me to India, now that I am just a woman. Monsoon season is just a matter of days away and have not witnessed one in close to a century. Now that I’m free to wander, unburdened by the clouds that used to tail me, I don’t need to worry. I may even be able to enjoy a summer in the UK again. Oppressive heat is already finding its way through the airport. The sweat from my journey is soon replaced with a fresh batch to add to the odour.
The hustle and bustle envelopes me and I enjoy the feeling that I can taste in the atmosphere. Warm and heavy, it wants to rain here. It will rain here, soon. I can picture the wet, moist, life giving drops that are ready to cascade down, even as I walk along the road and kick up the dust. My new life, it arrived just in time as the old one crumbled away. Now I will age, now I will die in the earth as they do. But I’ll also taste the rain rather than master it, and I won’t be alone.
I walk for miles to the place we agreed upon; I’m certain he’ll want to worry. I don’t recognise the place but I get a good feel from it so I open the door. He’s sat at a desk, his brown hair shadowing his face.
“You’re here!” he says and it’s better than decades of worship.
The greeting kiss soon grows deeper and I’m more than eager to get out of my sweat-filled clothes. When we’re lying together in bed, I smile and hum a little under my breath.
“Part of me wondered if you’d come.” he whispers into my hair, punctuating it with a kiss.
“You knew I’d come here.” I reply
“I mean for me, not just the monsoon.” he says with a quiet chuckle. I don’t reply and he doesn’t push it. Ex-rain goddesses aren’t women you can ever hope to tie down.