Sunday Photo Fiction: March 23rd 2014
This is another of the writing challenges I’ve wanted to try. Usually, there just aren’t enough hours in the week to fit in all the fun things I want to do but then, that’s just another sort of challenge, yes?
Here is a description of the challenge from the blog:
“Every week on a Sunday, a new photo is used as a prompt for Flash Fiction challenge using around 200 words based on that image. Your story does not have to be exactly what the item in the photo is, you can make it anything you want, and enjoy what you write, and we will as well.”
Here is today’s photo challenge:
So participants can stray from the actual photo included and because I’m me, I’m doing that :). I’m also bending the rules slightly in that, this story existed previously but was never published. I did have to type it all up from my copybook 🙂
When I saw the challenge photo, this story came to mind. I wrote it for a school English project when I was about 10 or 11. It’s recreated here (including the mis-spellerings and grammatifications). As my Teacher noted at the time: I have a big imagination. Hope you enjoy.
The Ship’s Bell
Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 224
A foggy night in Nova Scotia wasn’t a nice way to begin a vacation but that’s how mine started.
Through the queer fog, I stood listening to the dismal whining of the wind and the crash of the breakers.All at once I heard the screams of women and the crying of babies; through the din a ship’s bell started clanging.
As fast as I could I ran to my uncle’s cabin. I looked for his book on ghosts of Nova Scotia. I found out anyone hearing the ship’s bell would be drowned as were the fated passengers of the “Wooden Lady”.
Intrigued I read on only to find a ship’s bell was was burned onto the flesh of the drowned person.
I was rather frightened, and didn’t intend to go out, but I seemed to be drawn to the sea. As I walked the mud flats I reasoned that there was nothing to be afraid of. I must have been out a long time and didn’t notice the wave until it engulfed me.
It roared over me! and I was tossed about like a rag doll. A ship’s bell began to clang eerily and I was dressed in old-fashioned clothes. I felt myself pulled down, down, with bodies floating around me. Slowly, slowly, I slipped from reality.
The headlines the next day read:
Stingy indeed! Nice tale Karin 🙂
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Awww… thank you so much. Sometimes, I wish I could have her do the grading over again 😉
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I’d be willing to bet it made you try harder after the sting wore off.
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It did! I loved writing far too much to let a mere “B” discourage me.
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😀
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Love this. This is a really inventive ghost story.
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Thank you so much! Glad you enjoyed it 🙂
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A “B”? Seriously? That’s great stuff for a 7th grader.
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Thank you Adam! I thought it was pretty okay when I handed in the project but Mrs. Rowan was hard to please! 🙂
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Good story, expecially for 7th Grade.Well done. Your teacher should have at least mentioned originality and encouraged you. I was a teacher, and I would have. Perhaps that wasn’t her thing.Many teacher suffer from burnout.
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Aww thank you Patricia! This is one of the few examples that I kept from my early writing. There are many wonderful teachers among my family and friends now but I think it’s safe to say, the teacher who marked this was far more interested in things other than her students at that time. I wonder if she and the Math / PE Teacher ever wound up together? 😉
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Sorry about that typo. I shoud have put an “s” on the end of the last “teacher”.
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Stingy indeed! She is probably still using the same pen!
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That made me giggle! Everytime I’ve looked at it over the years, I had the irrational (tinged with humour though) thought to resumit it and see how I fare now.
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