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February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- VICTORY TO MOSAIX

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Hex

Write, monkey, write
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Edinburgh
Rules:





Write a story inspired by the chosen theme and genre in no more than 75 words, not including the title.


One entry per person


All stories Copyright 2014 by their respective authors,
who grant the Chronicles Network the non-exclusive right to publish them here


The complete rules can be found at Rules for the Writing Challenges



Contest ends at 11:59 pm GMT, February 23 2014

Voting Ends at 11:59 pm GMT, February 28 2014


You do not have to submit a story in order to vote --
in fact, we encourage all Chrons members to take part in choosing a winner




The Magnificent Prize:




The Dignified Congratulations/Grovelling Admiration of Your Peers
and the challenge of choosing the next month's theme and genre





Theme:


DANCE




Genre:


Mythic Fiction





This thread to be used for entries only. Please keep all comments to the Discussion Thread
 

Jo Zebedee

Aliens vs Belfast.
Joined
Oct 5, 2011
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17,138
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blah - flags. So many flags.
Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

A Rose for the Faerie-ring



Music sounded, sly and deep, and I turned, poised to run. Twelve smooth stones, laid in a ring, trapped my daughter. She spun, her arms outstretched, and laughed as the music soared.

My hands closed on empty air.

#

We bring a yellow rose and kneel. Our silent plea is answered by music from afar, our offering matched only by last year's shrivelled bloom, and our Maeve still dances where we can never reach her.
 

Victoria Silverwolf

Vegetarian Werewolf
Joined
Dec 9, 2012
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5,855
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Chattanooga, Tennessee, USA
Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

Ladies' Night

The seven of us were at Studio 54 one night when this really hot guy walked in. He winked at Erato, but asked Terpsichore to dance. They started doing moves nobody had ever seen before. Thalia was laughing, Euterpe was singing, and Clio was writing it all down in her diary. That was how your parents met. Now let's get back to that telescope. Aunt Urania wants to show you where your grandparents live.
 

AMB

Advanced Muddle Brain
Joined
Dec 8, 2011
Messages
424
Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

Dancing up the Sun

No one knows how it all started. They dance because their fathers danced, and their fathers before them.

"If no one does it, the sun won't rise," they are told. "Summer won't come."

So every May Day they meet in the darkness before dawn. The music starts, the dancing begins. Bells jingle, sticks clash, the sun begins to rise.

It will rise without them, they know.

Still, a helping hand can't hurt. Just in case.
 

Karn Maeshalanadae

I'm a pineapple
Joined
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4,119
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My own twisted Wonderland
Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

The Dance of the Morning Star: A Goddess's Jealousy



It brought the new Sun’s light into being. A graceful waltz, a chant upon the Angel’s lips, a beauty unmatched.

Cylari was perfect in her motions and form, never stopping in the soft steps or spins. Perfect…even in the eyes of her Creator.

But perfection had a price. Even a Goddess could be jealous…all Gaea needed was an excuse, and the Dance of the Morning Star would be hers forever.
 

alchemist

Be pure. Be vigilant. Beware.
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Ireland
Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE


By The Shore Of Lough Easkey


I stand in the faerie ring, my mouth dry as they rise from the water. On translucent steeds, they surround me.

"Lift your curse!" I demand.

"Never," responds the king.

"I challenge you then ... your way."

He smiles, and his dancers glide forward. Their legs fly high, their backs arrow straight, as they dance to their silent music.

I flex my hands and prepare, my weapons of choice...


Big fish...

Little fish...

Cardboard box.
 

Mirannan

Well-Known Member
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Jan 20, 2013
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1,781
Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

Completely unlike my normal style:

New Venue


Dance was her life. Legend she was, saintly she was; bringing joy to orphans, hope to the bereaved, the Word to the world – all through dance. The time came for a new venue, her last.

“I’ll lead you all in the Dance, said he.” Taking tempo from the music of the spheres, clothes fluttering in the solar wind, feet kicking up clouds of comet snow, hair frosted with starlight, they dance.
 

Bowler1

Senile Member
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High Wycombe
Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

Lord of the Dance

Riverdance had taken the world by storm
Travelling at a hop, skip and jump, it was relentless
Nothing could stop it; the spell could not be broken
All who had tried had succumbed
Now it was here, outside our walls
Their begging cries floated in the air, pleading and mournful
Shoot us
Kill us
Half dead, they jigged and twirled all around us
We couldn’t waste the bullets
Not on them
The bullets were ours
 

Hex

Write, monkey, write
Joined
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Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

One Lost Girl

Dancer, trickster, lover, thief, Nazuko came down Macaya mountain, playing on his pipes of bone.

"Choose me!" girlies begged, wild-crazy for his ecstasy. But me he beckoned, me he piped for, and I followed -- spinning through the swampland, the desert and the woodland -- feet bleeding flesh broken til I beg and pray him, Stop.

"Sorry, sister," Nazuko sang, bringing pipes all yellow to his mouth. "Where you think I get the bones?"

.
 
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Mith

Confused
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Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

In Aeternum

For years I watched them, ethereal spirits dancing gracefully yet mournfully on the lonely headland.

Many times I almost spoke to them, almost asked them why they danced.

Finally, as old age took me I asked.

“Spirits, why do you dance here, on this day every year?”

They turned to face me and a chorus of ghostly voices answered.

“We dance in sorrow for our lord, Tristan. Who died in grief, mourning lost Lyonesse.”
 

Mr Orange

Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb...
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Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

Solitary Shuffle

I move alone. In such pain. I twist and turn on broken limbs across a burnt, dead wasteland. My mouth sooty, my eyes stinging and tearful. I stumble through chaos. Searching for the solution I have promised.

As I lurch past the destruction I caused, those waiting faithfully in the caves below die a slow death. I am their fairytale saviour; I am a myth. My punishment is deserved in every way. Theirs is not
 

Droflet

I don't teach chickens how to dance.
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Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

Apologies in advance. (The devil made me do it.)

And now, for something …

The sound of clattering armor resounded throughout the great hall.

Dancing in full armor was not the norm but the knight’s high spirits could not be contained. Two groups had even taken to the table tops. What great fun.

Sir Orson noticed the frown that creased the King’s forehead.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “you do not approve?”

“I most certainly do not,” King Arthur said. “They are, after all, Knights of the Round Table.”
 

HareBrain

Smeerp of Wonder
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Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

The Boy From the East


He arrived after thunder, as if born of storm. He liked to party. The women clad his lovely legs in goatskin, threw wine down his throat. Danced with him to a girl’s mad piping.

And when his olive eyes blurred they fell on him till his screams ended.

The men found his scattered corpse. Henceforth, for safety, they would make the tunes for the women’s dance.
 

TitaniumTi

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NSW, Australia
Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

A Hard Rain

"All set? Let's do it! Let's dance up a storm."

Combines and augers, headers and harvesters boom like amplifiers as The Haeden belt out Bob Dylan with electric guitars. In the middle of the rain-starved plain, in the centre of the metal henge, farmers tread the dying wheat to dust.

They dance until raindrops fall, until puddles spill, until rivers flood their gifts upon the land.

In the midst of death, there is rebirth.
 

Abernovo

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Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

Sacred Spaces


They say it's only imagination, but those things you see out the corner of your eye, they're real.

The villagers call me mad, but what do they know? Still, they like me well enough to get me to cut them a maypole every year.

I pray as the antlered Lord of the Trees watches. Tomorrow, ribbons go on, the festivities start and they'll have their fertility dance. Not that they remember what it's all about.
 

Starbeast

Benevolent Galaxy Being
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Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

From Afanc Creatures to Zburator Dragons:
A Chorus Line Rehearsal


"Stop, stop! You ladies are great. Except for you shorty. You're out!"

The female Werehyena whimpered, "I'll do anything to be here, anything."

"Ok." (pats her rump) "Back on stage."

"Wheeeeeeeee!"

"Once again! Remember to wiggle and jiggle. Don't stomp around like zombie cows."

An Orobas spoke, "You're inspiring Mr Fosse."

"Shad-dup! Now, dance! STOP!!! Oh my gosh! Ladies, pull your leotards, out of your cracks! This isn't burlesque, this is the big time!"
 

chrispenycate

resident pedantissimo
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Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

Kali.01
Brahma danced you into being
Now my feet bring dissolution.
Necklace skulls bounce, follow dancing
Down fifth Avenue advancing.
Passing Entropy State Building
Failure of United nations,
To the twin-tow'rd Word Trade Centre.
New York city knows destruction
Must precede a total rebirth.
Thugees, dervish planes colliding,
Fire and metal scythe observers,
Thousands die in op'ning movement
Hundred times in retribution
Guilt or innocence, no difference
Sparking global renovation
Or ending Man's domination.
 

Juliana

Juliana Spink Mills. "No capes!"
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Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

The Witching Moon​

Quicksilver beckons: pale tendrils of light take my slender wrist and draw me, breathless, to the dance.

Moonbeams caress me; twirl me, ecstatic, nearer and dearer, closer than lovers in the dance.

Faster now, wilder. Feet bleed and heart bursts. Movement blurs and blends, and I become one with the dance.

Lady Moon fades and so do I, unmade human, now but one more star in her wake. I am dance.
 

ratsy

www.scifiexplorations.com
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4,644
Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

The Event of the Year

This Midsummer Festival is going to be better than ever!

Try to best Paul Bunyan in the Lumberjack contest.

Will your kiss wake up Sleeping Beauty? Bring your dollars to find out at the kissing booth.

Dinner starts at Seven o’clock, hosted by the one and only Hansel.

The night will end with the biggest and most fun event; the Midsummer Dance.

Please email for your passes, they are going quick!

bigbadwolf@grandmascabin.org
 

Remedy

Eat, Sleep, Write, Repeat
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Re: February 2014 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE

The Horny Satyr

Oh I’m a horny satyr,
As dirty as they come,
And I say you ain’t seen nuffin better,
Than a nyph's a’dancin bum.

Whether they’re in the water,
Or twirling through the trees,
You gotta love what’s below their naval,
And just above their knees.

If I didn’t look so goaty,
Lost my horns and hooves,
I’d step out from behind this bush,
And bust out some sexy moves!
 
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