When I was 13, I was a part of a school creative writing class. For Christmas, we had to write each other a story, like a Secret Santa, and it was allowed to be as cheesy as possible. I found it hilarious to write, as it just made no sense, it was clichéd and ridiculous.
Oh, and it had to begin with 'Once upon a time'...
Once upon a time,
there was a girl. She had long, dark brown hair and twinkling brown eyes set
into a round, olive toned face. This
girl could not feel the cold like others. She would run around her little
village garden, in the snow with not a care in the world.
She played the
violin too. She was so very talented with the small instrument; she could play
for hours and hours. And it made such a wonderful sound.
One day, that little
girl left her home country. It was late at night and she had already said her
goodbyes. She packed away her violin and its bow and lifted the case. She
walked slowly down the path and away. Away from the little green house that had
been her home. She sailed across seas and past continents, searching. Searching
for a place to belong.
It was a long, long
time before anyone saw that girl again, several years, in fact. It was a group
of explorers who had journeyed to the far south, to the Antarctic, that found
her. They had never expected to find what they saw.
A huddle of penguins
began to gather into a ring around a spot marked in the ice. They stood
waiting, but all completely wild. The young explorers watched. And waited.
Suddenly, as if from
nowhere, the girl padded across the snow, so silent with her bare feet. Her
eyes were glazed, but there was a smile on her face. The young explorers
watched fascinated by the girl who took her place among the penguins, who
accepted her almost as brethren.
Slowly, softly, she
took her violin and propped it on her shoulder. She began to play.
And the sky lit up
with such an array of beautiful colours, pinks, blues, greens and yellows. The
Aurora Australis. The shimmering light
patterns reflected in her hazel eyes and shone on her long brown hair. The
adventurers watched the girl in awe. Secluded and lonely, silent but beautiful.
Here, was a girl who was at home. Here with
the cold, the penguins, her violin and the light.
No comments:
Post a Comment