Tag: Fantasy

Don’t enter the caves

#FromOneLine 265 Friday Challenge

For #FromOneLine ☆  Friday Challenge  ☆ 265 a very short story (vss) inspired by the grottos and limestone caves of Vietnam that I recently visited. They seem to be the perfect settings for tales of fantasy and I am sure they have inspired many writers.

#VisualArt generated using Wombo Dream AI

They navigated by touch, the jagged edges – cold and piercing. Deep inside the moist cave, they grasped hands and took delicate steps, cushioned between the stalactites and stalagmites. Which way to go, they did not know.

The ground was flimsy, or was it their petrified mind concocting fearsome stories? Toxic fumes rose and subsided, with a hiss. The walls closed in and a thought appeared like a streak of lightning – “This is the belly of the dragon.”

Then, the walls moved away and in the brief sliver of moonlight, they saw a lava-spewing throat. The mouth of the cave shut in a loud gasp and a crunch resounded in the depths. The nightmare was coming true. This was no mistake.

Blue

Sapphire figments of fantasy
Dark as the indigo velvet night
Embedded in slivers of argent light
Lying on my bosom like ashen fire
Ebb and flow of each breath
Heave and sigh of the chest
Life moving in glossy rhythms
Of soulful music from the depth

Edge of the Map

It was a sultry afternoon. The day stretched endlessly, waiting for twilight. The orange popsicles stained his tongue but didn’t quench his thirst. He wasn’t sleepy for lack of physical activity. He read books, heard songs on his laptop, played mobile games but time stood still, fatigued by the heat of the Indian summer.

Bored, he picked up his drawing kit and started sketching a treasure map to reach the fabled pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. He drew ardently, painstakingly filling vibrant colours in the verdant landscape, flora, and fauna. The emerging terrain captivated him. He paid attention to every tiny detail. The sound of wax crayons against white paper, echoed the unstoppable rhythm in his delicate fingers.

Beyond the tanned mountains, arched the seven colors of mystic beauty. At the corner of the sheet, a speck glimmered. He added final touches to the elusive gold and rested the point of his crayon, in a finishing move, just as the first star of the night rose in the burnished horizon. In the twinkle of its light, with sweat beads on his brow, he sailed through the azure skies, having fallen from the edge of the map.

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