Thursday, 13 July 2017

The Came From Darkness - Creatures In The Attic

I've enjoyed being with creative people in different groups this week.  On both Tuesday and Wednesday morning I was able to attend The Writers' Cafe.  Both occasions were a joy.  It's great to meet with the people there; to chat and to write.  It's great to be among people who are enthusiastic for the process of writing and who encourage each other in that process.  It's great to get feedback.  And it's great to hear the wide range of work we come up with, quickly written, from the various writing prompts.

Each session is themed and during our time together we will write from one or two prompts.  This week has given me four short pieces of writing.  Today I'm going to post the first of these.  Our topic was attics.  This remained the theme for the second piece.  I have homework to write about a cellar and a discovered place.  My confession is that I haven't done my homework yet even though the idea for what I will writer was already there in my head on Tuesday in the group.

Today I've spent the day with my little autistic theatre group.  Those people are great.  The radio play I've written there is complete with the exception of sorting out the files for sound effects and background music.  I've found it all but haven't been disciplined enough to download and convert it all.  Some more homework.

Here then is the first little piece from The Writers' Cafe this week.  In many ways it's the weakest of the four.  It needs more detail and perhaps one day it'll get it.  For now though here are the words, as free written in the session.  They're in 5-7-5 syllable structure, like haiku but not true traditional haiku themes or image structure.

Image from here.

They came from darkness.
Grinning yellow teeth; grey eyes.
Whispered sour nothings.

They came from darkness.
Slow descent of attic stairs,
Torn clothes, dead scarred chests.

They came from darkness.
Fingers: Beckoning.  "Join us.
Cursed, But not alone."

They came from darkness.
With one flick of loft light switch
They vanished from sight.

Glaring, naked bulb
Shone through my fierce fear haunting
Revealed only dust.

Later, I upstairs
Explored the memory space.
Boxes of other lives.

In the light, safety.
I smiled.  Relieved.  Began to laugh.
Then, they laughed with me.

The light dimmed to black.
Hands.  Breath.  My body held.  Squeezed.
They came from darkness.

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