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Back
in April while at a convention, I attended an hour long writers’
workshop.
The idea behind the workshop was simple -
The facilitators supplied us with 5 elements we had to use in a story.
We drew these from a hat. There would be an opening line, a location, a
persona, an item and an action.
My five elements were -
I should have run when I saw the cougar
A newspaper reporter
A smoking gun
A medieval castle
a startling confession
I ended up writing 2 pieces. One just a drabble, the other longer and
here they are as is, no corrections
******************
Story one
I should have run when I saw the cougar, but as a newspaper
reporter; I needed to get my story.
I was just a newbie at the paper, and had so far been stuck in the
fashion section for the past month. Fashion was so not where I was at. I
owned no makeup, and my wardrobe consisted of jeans & t-shirts. The
jeans weren't even brand-name jeans. They usually came from Wal-Mart or
a thrift shop. The other people knew all about their craft. They knew
which colour to match with what; and knew Jimmy Cho's from (some other
brand of shoe?).
I cared about news. It didn't have to be earth shattering news; like a
local politician caught with a smoking gun, but it had to have
substance and an interest in people at the least.
My brother accused me of being an optimist and having impossible ideals
when it came to people; but I liked to hope. And that was what had taken
me to this incongruous medieval castle in the
Colorado
mountains.
Over the last few years stories had begun to circulate about both the
castle and its owners.
The grandiose building, think Ludwig the Mad's castles in
Bavaria
, had been built way back in 1880 by the Freemont family. Members of the
family had lived there ever since; their reputation for mad, bad and
unscrupulous behaviour growing through the years.
The current incumbent was rumoured to have done away with several girls
over the years and now talk was surfacing of their ghosts being seen in
the vicinity of the castle.
I didn't believe in either the ghosts or the murders. My doubts were
because, in addition to my yearning to be a real newspaper
reporter, I had a crush a mile wide on the current Freemont bad guy.
Yes, it's a startling confession I know, but Brad Freemont was
fascinating to me.
I was always a sucker for brooding, misunderstood guys with muscles;
which Brad had in abundance. And although he never cared what people
thought of him, I was determined to prove his innocence. Which was why,
currently I was lying flat in the undergrowth nervously watching as the
cougar passed me by.
******************
Story two
I should've run when I saw the cougar, but as my smoking gun
testified, I'd run out of bullets.
I couldn't believe that that I was in this predicament and wondered how
my newspaper reporter friend would report my death.
As the medieval castle loomed in the distance, I hoped my
sacrifice had been worth it, and that the startling confession I
had obtained would bring about the defeat of my enemies.
© Fran Moroney, Ingham, Australia,
2008 |
