Great pic, really great story. Captured the vibes of young love and carefree nights, laced with a campfire horror undertone.
Some excellent lines:
*Everyone cheered the boy who went down a hill but came back up a man.
*Zee flipped her finger, sat down next to me, and sang into my ear, “Babe, tomorrow’s so far away.” She leaned forward, pulled me close, and our lips met.
I've just read it again and sat here with the ending, accepting and enjoying that I can interpret it in a few different ways... 😃
Thanks, Nathan. If you got the carefree vibe then I shall consider it a success. And the ending, yes, it is up to the readers to choose whichever ending they prefer. Many ways this could play out depending on the time of day and mood you're in.
Ah but the world's a stage... I still have the horror version, maybe something to post for another day, a darker day 😅 could be interesting to see where the readers go, vs. what I had in mind initially.
This is the best kind of story, Alexander, with a legend shared and an ambiguous ending suggesting that such things could come true on a night when the moon hangs low over the world. Brilliantly done 👍🏼
Thanks, Dan. Yes, I often prefer leaving it up to the viewer/reader to draw their own conclusions. First version was more of a horror slasher, I changed everything.
Just a lovely story, Alexander, all around. It can be as dark or innocent as you read it.
The moon can be such a special mixed metaphor and symbol. I always think of the line "...consigned to the moon" in "An Old Man's Winter Night" by Frost.
Also, the photo is incredible! I can never seem to get a decent photo of a beautiful moon.
Thanks, Kate. Yes, indeed, one can read it in many way. One could say the darkness resides in the reader with this one, or not.
Such a wonderful poem, too good not to add here in its entirety (since it's public domain)! Glad you like the photo, I should maybe do a Moon themed Foto Friday.
“Hark and listen, for what I’m about to tell you will chill you to the bone, it will make your insides churn, you’ll crawl back to mommy, you’ll know true evil..." Oooo! I remember stories like this at beach party bon fires all through my school days! Thanks, Alexander for bringing those days back to me. Excellent story!
Great pic, really great story. Captured the vibes of young love and carefree nights, laced with a campfire horror undertone.
Some excellent lines:
*Everyone cheered the boy who went down a hill but came back up a man.
*Zee flipped her finger, sat down next to me, and sang into my ear, “Babe, tomorrow’s so far away.” She leaned forward, pulled me close, and our lips met.
I've just read it again and sat here with the ending, accepting and enjoying that I can interpret it in a few different ways... 😃
Thanks, Nathan. If you got the carefree vibe then I shall consider it a success. And the ending, yes, it is up to the readers to choose whichever ending they prefer. Many ways this could play out depending on the time of day and mood you're in.
SUCCESS!
Such ambiguity for the reader can be the best kind of story. Bravo!
🙏 unless the reader wants to know exactly what happens next! 😅 I had a much darker version at first, different actors, same theme, but I changed it.
I mean, I'd read it 😉
Actors? These be no actors. These be real people whose lives you're meddling with!! 😮😮😆
Ah but the world's a stage... I still have the horror version, maybe something to post for another day, a darker day 😅 could be interesting to see where the readers go, vs. what I had in mind initially.
This is the best kind of story, Alexander, with a legend shared and an ambiguous ending suggesting that such things could come true on a night when the moon hangs low over the world. Brilliantly done 👍🏼
Thanks, Dan. Yes, I often prefer leaving it up to the viewer/reader to draw their own conclusions. First version was more of a horror slasher, I changed everything.
This story was chilling! I have to agree with the other comments here. It definitely made me long for the carefree days of my youth.
Thanks, David! Glad you enjoyed it. Cherish those memories ;)
Remind me to send you an invite for next camping trip, we'll need some good ghost stories 👻
Wouldn't that be something. I'll bring my guitar.
What happened to Zee? The same thing that happened to the girl in the white dress? If so, how come she didn’t disappear?
That's the beauty of it, you get to decide. So many possibilities.
Ah, the carefree days of youth tempered by something sinister (life or the world, perhaps) waiting to prey on their naivety. Or not. Well done, Alex.
Thanks, Mark. Love the comment!
Just a lovely story, Alexander, all around. It can be as dark or innocent as you read it.
The moon can be such a special mixed metaphor and symbol. I always think of the line "...consigned to the moon" in "An Old Man's Winter Night" by Frost.
Also, the photo is incredible! I can never seem to get a decent photo of a beautiful moon.
Thanks, Kate. Yes, indeed, one can read it in many way. One could say the darkness resides in the reader with this one, or not.
Such a wonderful poem, too good not to add here in its entirety (since it's public domain)! Glad you like the photo, I should maybe do a Moon themed Foto Friday.
---
An Old Man’s Winter Night
Robert Frost (1874 – 1963)
All out of doors looked darkly in at him
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.
What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze
Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand.
What kept him from remembering what it was
That brought him to that creaking room was age.
He stood with barrels round him—at a loss.
And having scared the cellar under him
In clomping there, he scared it once again
In clomping off;—and scared the outer night,
Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar
Of trees and crack of branches, common things,
But nothing so like beating on a box.
A light he was to no one but himself
Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,
A quiet light, and then not even that.
He consigned to the moon,—such as she was,
So late-arising,—to the broken moon
As better than the sun in any case
For such a charge, his snow upon the roof,
His icicles along the wall to keep;
And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt
Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,
And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.
One aged man—one man—can’t fill a house,
A farm, a countryside, or if he can,
It's thus he does it of a winter night.
One of my fave poems!
Yes, that would be a good post on moons.
It is a fantastic poem. Thanks for that reference. ❤️
Ahh moons, I do have the images ready but I have another one typed already! Moons in June, it rhymes. ;)
“Hark and listen, for what I’m about to tell you will chill you to the bone, it will make your insides churn, you’ll crawl back to mommy, you’ll know true evil..." Oooo! I remember stories like this at beach party bon fires all through my school days! Thanks, Alexander for bringing those days back to me. Excellent story!
Thanks, Sharron. Glad you enjoyed it, and yes, those were the days! A good fire, friends, three chords and the truth, it was the best of times...
Three chords! Hah! Yes. It's all you needed.