Short Story Start: Thunder and Vines
Here's nearly 400 words of the short story I'm working on (started it today), which will be set in the same world as my 21 Days project. Not sure what I'm looking for here, but if you see anything missing that would make it better in your eyes, I welcome your comments. Or feel free to share whatever constructive comments you might have. There's at least a word or phrase here or there that I still want to work on, but it's fun to have something in the writer's workshop folder
~*~
He kept looking to the east, and then to the west. The elevation afforded him an excellent view of the storied road leading into the great valley of death where the two armies had assembled once again. For pleasure, he had been spending intermittent moments by looking down and observing the sea of harsh blanched rocks covering this dusty corner of the planet Gallea.
His sandaled foot kicked with great force a stone the size of a fist down the western slope, and he watched it cause a trail of little bits of earth to cascade along with it. Traces of dust arose in the wake of the tiny chaos that ensued from the chain of reactions as one rock collided with another, and then another, and then another.
Smiling a little at the result, he turned out of habit to the east and then looked startled. The leading edge of a throng of people held up two tall images, each holy symbol tied between two long poles: one a shining tome wrapped in vibrant vines and the other a pool of cool water framed neatly by vines of the same variety. The details couldn't actually be seen from where he stood, but the Rezzian soldier's expression still changed rapidly for the better as he stared for a few moments through the sand-drenched air.
Near his feet laid ten hardwood poles bearing their five signal messages. He lifted up the closest pair of them, which had an enormous red throne painted on the claylike canvas trussed between them, and then he began running at full speed with the poles vaulted high, back and forth across the ridge with the colorful image shown westwardly.
A plain, white response of the same construction flashed back to him across another great distance, and then he dropped the solid poles and also dropped himself forcefully down so that his lower legs were parallel with the scraggy ground, his knees became his feet, and he prostrated towards the east. His outstretched arms pointed towards the entourage and his fingers shook deliberately.
His parched voice called out with heartfelt emotion, “Shovah Flovarz!” Shovah meaning victory; the Flovarz being the spiritual-military leader of the Rezzian kingdom. And then, “Hallah Ilz’ Avah Haissem,” meaning “We worship and adore Our Deliverer.”
(Next scene: Him)
~*~
He kept looking to the east, and then to the west. The elevation afforded him an excellent view of the storied road leading into the great valley of death where the two armies had assembled once again. For pleasure, he had been spending intermittent moments by looking down and observing the sea of harsh blanched rocks covering this dusty corner of the planet Gallea.
His sandaled foot kicked with great force a stone the size of a fist down the western slope, and he watched it cause a trail of little bits of earth to cascade along with it. Traces of dust arose in the wake of the tiny chaos that ensued from the chain of reactions as one rock collided with another, and then another, and then another.
Smiling a little at the result, he turned out of habit to the east and then looked startled. The leading edge of a throng of people held up two tall images, each holy symbol tied between two long poles: one a shining tome wrapped in vibrant vines and the other a pool of cool water framed neatly by vines of the same variety. The details couldn't actually be seen from where he stood, but the Rezzian soldier's expression still changed rapidly for the better as he stared for a few moments through the sand-drenched air.
Near his feet laid ten hardwood poles bearing their five signal messages. He lifted up the closest pair of them, which had an enormous red throne painted on the claylike canvas trussed between them, and then he began running at full speed with the poles vaulted high, back and forth across the ridge with the colorful image shown westwardly.
A plain, white response of the same construction flashed back to him across another great distance, and then he dropped the solid poles and also dropped himself forcefully down so that his lower legs were parallel with the scraggy ground, his knees became his feet, and he prostrated towards the east. His outstretched arms pointed towards the entourage and his fingers shook deliberately.
His parched voice called out with heartfelt emotion, “Shovah Flovarz!” Shovah meaning victory; the Flovarz being the spiritual-military leader of the Rezzian kingdom. And then, “Hallah Ilz’ Avah Haissem,” meaning “We worship and adore Our Deliverer.”
(Next scene: Him)