This particular story was inspired by a friend of mine, and is as much poetry as prose. Or at least tries to have tendencies in that direction. It’s also rather short. I do hope you enjoy it. It’s also the first of my three entries into the Writer’s Carnival.
It was the city of sadness, where men wore their hearts on their sleeves. It was the city of sadness, where bells tolled a long lament. It was the city of sadness, where mourning was in vogue.
Men walked to and fro along the busy streets, murmuring kind passages to one another. Men walked to and fro along the busy streets, heads bowed and tears streaming. Men walked to and fro along the busy streets, united in their grief.
Along a street of silken glass, the tears they all did flow. Down and down through the city they ran, slipping out to sea. And there they were lost and swept away, a gift to the bright blue ocean.
Men wore robes, lists of what they mourned. Some were long and some were short, and all were black as night. They grieved and questioned and wondered why, and read one another’s robes. And then they stopped and argued by the merits of great sadness.
Merits they came and merits they went, and the argument it wandered forth. And some men found that sadness helped not at all, and so they excised it from their conscience. They danced and laughed and swore and fought, and mocked those in robes of night.
And so the city split apart, in blocks of day and night. Sadness waxed and sadness waned, ever hidden from light. And those without the heart’s great gift, they pandered and they prayed, yet found life ill fulfilling.
And so one by one they slipped away, into their robes of mourning. And thus the city of sadness stood evermore, a citadel against the morning.
Guidelines
- Maximum word count of 1,000
- Any type of flash is acceptable
- Up to three entries allowed
- Post your entries on your own blog, titled like this: Writer’s Carnival: Flash Title
- Add your stories to the collector
- Once the blog carnival post is up, please link to it from your blog
- Place these guidelines at the end of your entry posts
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David D Sharp on 08.19.2010
I enjoyed that but it felt a bit confused as well – like it was trying to be both fiction and poetry at the same time. Reminded me of a short story by Ursula K LeGuin but I can’t for the life of me recall what it was called – it was about a similar, mysterious city and I think they were doing something with their children.
The Four Part Land on 08.20.2010
I’m not sure what it is either. It was clearly lyrical in intent, with the (usually) three sentence stanzas and repetition of motif, but I’m not sure where it falls. It was just something that occurred to me at the time, with the first three sentences, and I decided to keep the style throughout the rest of the piece.
I can’t recall that particular LeGuin piece, but if you find it, I’d love to see it.
David D Sharp on 08.25.2010
I remembered it – it’s called “The Ones That Walk Away”.
The Four Part Land on 08.25.2010
Thanks, I’ll have to take a look at it.