Prose of the Season #2 - Mundane

Prose | of | the | Season​

no. 2
[entries are due on August 25th]

MUNDANE​

Okay, here we go again. Finally on track. Basically, this is the second prose of the season. And it's finally here. I hope you're all excited!

I'm really glad a lot of you partook in the last one. This time I want more people to partake. The idea is for all of you to expand on your abilities. With that in mind, the theme this will be a bit different. Also, your judges for this round shall be: Plums and Sforzato.

You will write a small blurb about something mundane. The idea is to capture the essence of something worldly and human. Anything goes, as long as you're creative in the use of it.

• The blurb must not be longer than 300 words.
  

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• The blurb must follow the Creativity Corner's rules and regulations

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• If you wish to know the criteria used for judging, you may see it HERE

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• You may post in this thread, but please keep it spam free. Discussion is permitted

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Prose #2-Mundane Entry

Spoiler

How many times had I told myself that nothing would stop me? I would make the world a better place. How many times had I repeated the phrase, “Save the world with what you know.†I finally made it there with my idea. A form of energy so powerful, yet not harmful in the least. It could power cars, cities, and the world. With it we could travel to unknown places. Galaxies that were once beyond our grasp would be within our hands. All of this was possible with my new creation. I went to many people to spread the word. Within hours I had millions of buyers there ready to invest.

When the time finally came for the big unveiling everyone was quiet. Who wouldn't be for the creation that could change the world. I opened with a big speech about life, and what it meant to have a power source like this. I saw the smiles on there faces, the solution was just within reaching distance. I decided the time had come. With a pull of the curtain and a flick of a switch the crowd became confused. You see, the only thing behind the curtain was a man. When the crowd became unsettled I decided it was time to explain. “You see,†I stated, “we are the power source we have been looking for. We can power cities, by simply running and moving around.†It wasn't but maybe two and a half minutes for the crowd to dissipate. Is this what our world has become? The answer lies within their reach and they turn their back on it. Perhaps, they just don't want it. They don't want to work for the answer, they only want an answer for free. That is all we are now, all we will ever be.

 

I finally threw something together that isn't utter crap. Yay me. I decided that I'd misread the initial posting and rather than writing about the concept of mundane I should write about something mundane. The overall quality suffers from my lack of skill but it's better. I may change it again again but that's unlikely at this juncture.

Spoiler

Through the echoes and cries of the surrounding forest he quiets his mind and trains his sharpened eyes through the dense foliage to a clearing. Soon, he feels a strange calmness wash over him, his grip on his rifle loosens and his steps are suddenly light as a feather. As he silently stalks his unsuspecting prey he feels at one with the world. So he takes aim, slowly sighting out his target, carefully leading it in the cross hairs. Bang. His shot rings in his ears, as the hunter stares at his intended target, disappointed. But it isn't spooked, he readies his arm again for the kill. Less of a lead this time, the round must have zoomed straight by it. Again, breath stilled, eyes centered he takes his shot. Down it goes this time. He's got his rhythm now, the game was going at his pace. Down falls another and another. Soon they've all fallen. The screen clears and two colored boxes appear and between them a countdown from twenty.

“Select a prize,†says one.

“Continue?†asks another.

He searches his thoughts as the numbers slip lower and lower. He finally takes aim and fires at the box marked, “Continue?†The screen flickers and his prey begin to stalk back into view. Soon the screen clears again and only a single box appears on the screen. A hand darts into his pocket frantically searching for another quarter. He runs a hand through his hair saying, “I guess you win this time duckies.†Defeated, the hunter slumps over returning the dirty blue plastic gun to it's cracked rubber resting place below the screen. Pointing a finger accusingly at the arcade cabinet he says, “Next time.†And with a recoiling motion of his wrist, “Bang.â€

 

James Joyce would immediately be the winner of this competition.

Spoiler: Not a very lovely entry

“When I was but a wee lad, your aunt and I lived in a little old house tucked away in the nooks of sprawling suburbia. Things were newer back then – just set up, ready and willing to embrace a new wave of humans that were to be more united in both living quarters and ideals – and as a result, rarely did I see any vegetation around me, save for some wise old trees that would act as guardians. Most of the days would be chilly; frozen with the soft waking breath of a crisp winter morning, and those guardians would have shed their leafy hauberks, revealing an inner skeleton I would rarely see. The skeletons always seemed so delicate – frayed, gentle – and yet, with the furious storms that passed by our neighbourhood, they were, perhaps, the strongest out of all of us – resisting the villainous winds with a noble integrity.

Yet my friends and I, young as we were, would huddle up beneath our covers when we would glance towards the rain-drenched windows, viewing the ghastly rapping upon the wet glass that the hands of those demonic monsters outside our homes would create. It would keep our poor souls up all night, and never would we get a wink of sleep when the storms arrived. Of course, your aunt knew better. 'They're trees,' she would constantly bark out whenever she found me huddled in bed like a fox. 'Just trees. They ain't nothing else, so stop worrying and go to bed.'

Just trees. I would always tell myself that. Eventually, I reached a point where they stopped meaning much to me – much to anyone, truly. It was more what we thought of the trees than what they were – just trees, nothing more.â€

 

The "Blurb":

Spoiler: Prose of the Seson #2 Entry

These Hands​

The scars… they were small, but they were noticeable. Pain, oh so much pain I recalled as I traced the imprints.

But no more; I was whole.

There was silence, deafening silence, suffocating silence. I would sit and stare at the ivory keys of my friend, watch as the dust collected on its beauty, longing to just reach out and touched it, stroke its keys, and play melodies of my heart as though we were school girls exchanging secrets to one another.

But I was chained within myself, denied of my elixir of life. It was just in my reach, but I couldn’t grasp it. My hands, they were frozen. It was hard to lift them, move them about freely as they use to do before this disease, this trial, this plague had come upon them.

Soon, I was beginning to lose my other friends one by one, day by day. The pens, the pencil, the journals, the sketchbooks, even my mechanical friend the computer slipped away from my grip. I was allowed to see them ever so often, but interacting with them was out of the question.

“It’s hazardous to your health.â€

Why? I wanted to scream. Why me? I need them. Someone please, fix me!

The weeks turned into months, the months transformed into a year. I watched as other hands could do what mine couldn’t. Such a common thing, hands were. But so vital to one whom grew up with them. I needed them. I could not live without them.

One day, I had fallen asleep. I awoke. One hand was bandaged, wrapped in gauze.

How strange…

The gauze eventually faded away. My hand was stiff, but I felt bold.

A voice whispered softly, “Play for me.â€

My fingers glided across the keys.

I played.

 

Here we are! An entry for something involving writing written by someone who is not a writer! Who woulda thunk? Had it sitting on my desktop finished for a good two or three days now, so I figure I might as well post it, aye?

Spoiler

Tick tock tick tock. The time is passing but why are you not moving? Tick tock. You look forwards, neatly lined up people you see. You look behind you, neatly lined up people you see. Tick tock, oh won’t this ever stop? How long have you been here? It feels as if time is standing completely still, you will never get out of this place. Tick tock. You see people of all ages here, what are they all doing here you wonder. Tick tock. What is this? The people in front of you are moving forwards, what can this mean? You can see a strange cart like contraption; the people are getting in it, what can this mean? Up a hill they all went, where do they end up? Time stops again. Tick tock tick tock. After a while the line moves again, it seems as if it is your turn to get in the contraption. There is something scary about it, though you’re just happy to get out of this purgatory. The contraption starts moving up the hill and gets to the top before stopping. You look out of the contraption, you are on the top of a big hill. Slowly it creeps downwards, you scream out in excitement. Best rollercoaster ride ever.

 

I believe it's time to dust off the keyboard.

Spoiler

You choose to stand at the foot of the bricked path leaving your home behind for an escape, but I must ask you one question before you step inside our gates.

Do you believe in magic?

Walk the streets of Main with me, what do you see? A street turning with the century toward hope and promise or a flock of cultures following a strip of nationality?

Do you feel your soul awaken at the sight of her castle, standing magnificently, watchful over a realm for which children reign while scrapping the frothing sky, or do you collapse under the broiling sun or dissolve with the rain?

Have you paraded through your childhood, cruised betwixt a pirate assault, become a space fairing adventurer seeking the impossible beyond our grasp, or will your connection to the outside world vibrate you out of the moment announcing trivial chidings of text?

Will you see the magic glisten in the eyes of the believers?
Will you take a leap of imaginative fear?
Will you believe?

I can’t answer this for you. It resides for you to decide once you step under within my kingdom.

But will you?
Will you truly see?
Or shall the outside world play antagonist and corrupt your experience.

I am but the narrator. You are the hero. This is your tale.
Make it count.

 

I've not really written in a very long time, but what the hell.

Spoiler

They told me the prompt was 'mundane'. I thought for a bit about what one could consider mundane - ordinary things I saw in everyday life that would be interesting to write about.
Rain.
The stuffed lion my boyfriend gave to me.
The way my dog dreams and snores.
Even the internet came to mind.
But then I thought of something that is truly ordinary and commonplace. Something that's used, seen, or heard by every single person during their lifetimes, even before birth. And in a sense, even after their deaths. Something that's used by anyone alive at this very moment.

Words.

Used by everyone, found everywhere, dating back to the very beginning of humanity. The one thing that has united us as a race since the beginning of our civilization, made us the so-called dominant species on this planet, and goes so often unnoticed. Words are common and in this world so frequently used that they spawn languages and dialects and slang. But still, even if it's in a different language, a word is still a word.
For something so common, words are possibly the most powerful tools ever used. They've been used to start and end wars; weave tales and plays that have stood the test of time. Words can be stronger than any known physical material, gouging wounds or healing hearts. They can even save a life. I know that's true, at least.

And if something so simple as letters strung into words strung into sentances can save a human life, can there really be anything else so powerful yet so ordinary and overlooked?

So that's when I decided what my take on the prompt would be, and I began it like this:
"They told me the prompt was 'mundane'."

 

I think I kind of threw a curveball at this theme ... but I like it ^^

Spoiler

As the final chord hung a glittering cadence in the air, I looked up at the conductor from my seat in the second row of players. I thought for a second that I saw a small tear in his eye as we finished. The moment seemed to last an eternity as silence reverberated in the hall, my violin and bow perfectly poised as though wishing to continue playing. I looked to my right, and saw a dear friend, who I would rarely meet again after tonight. We had been through a long journey this past year, the seventy of us in the orchestra, living and working together; the uncertainty of the future was palpable in the air. We didn't know if this would happen again, and we made the most of it.

The clapping began, slowly at first, then rising to a clamour like the first droplets of a downpour after a long drought. We stood up as was our custom and the conductor bowed to the applauding audience, then shook the hand of the leader, the concertmaster standing only a few feet from me. So much emotion had been shared between this group of young adults, all now going their separate ways, whether back to high school or to university, college or work, and one thing had brought us together. Music.

Some say music is pointless and mundane -- a futile, powerless thing. Artful, and requiring skill, but nothing compared to science or language. Yet what can be more powerful than the ability to bring people together, and resonate emotionally even after the last note is played? Is there such a thing as mundane at all, when everything has ties, emotional and mental, that bind us together as people? That is the power of music.

I hope it's okay ^^.

 

Whoa, large crowd. Anyway, it's that time again guys, and the winners are in. And yes, winners. We both came to the conclusion after discussing these two pieces in MSN, and now I think I will shut up and show you the decision:

Spoiler: Winners

Destined and Rebecca Black

Destined
Captures the spirit of flash fiction--that is, telling a full story in a minute space. Drew me in the most out of any entry, made me curious, made me really want to read through. The theme is consistent and gripping, bringing out the magick in the mundane. The narrator's voice is also compelling, a bit flawed but confident and insistent regardless. Overall a solid piece.

Rebbeca Black
Despite the length restriction, I thought this story was quite engaging. It painted a surreal vision of what you expected at first (a hunter out after wild game), but then quickly unsheathed itself to be another regular guy trying his luck at a simple arcade game - which I felt captured the essence of the challenge: something ordinary, but also accounting for imagination, which I felt made this piece stick out most.

Spoiler: Honourable Mentions

What? andMakise Kurisu

What?
Intriguing description of a mundane object, really put some interesting imagery in my head. Has a sort of mythos to it, even for how short it is. Nice theme, well executed... though perhaps a bit too wordy.

Makise Kurisu
I thought that the approach to music was interesting; a band of people playing together under one tune and one composer. It added onto your theme of unity that you had in the piece. I thought the last paragraph detracted a bit from the actual story, but overall it was well done.

As always, there will be a pin reward. It's still currently in the in works, so please continue to be patient.

Didn't win this time? Do not fret! With more contests in the future, get those creative juices flowing!

Again, this turnout is extremely pleasing, and all of you did a really great job. c:

 

I would like to congratulate you all and say that you did magnificent jobs. I read through all these and felt very pleased and moved by most.

Congratulations to the winners, and good luck to those who didn't manage to win this time. Stay tuned, because on September 1st, Poetic ars nova Season # 2 will arrive!

_Locked