Excerpt
WHITE MAMA ACT II
Excerpt of Act Two of White Mama ACT II SCENE 1 SETTING: New York City AT RISE: Estelle is now homeless. She is sleeping outside on the bench at STAGE RIGHT in the streets of New York City. THREE BAG LADY enters. She sees ESTELLE asleep on the bench. She goes on STAGE RIGHT where ESTELLE is.
By Gladys W. Muturi4 years ago in Fiction
Blue
“There weren't always dragons in the Valley. There wasn’t always a valley. Before valleys became popular, most places just had big flat spaces— then someone decided to, quite literally, shake things up a bit. That’s how we got all this topsy turvy stuff going on with high bits and low bits. Somehow the high bits got higher and the low bits got even lower until some clever bugger decided it would be a good idea to throw fire into the mix— which of course set off the chain reaction of lava sprouting everywhere and before you could say ‘what’s that sulphur smell?’ we had volcanoes. I won’t tell you who brought in the water, but I guess it had to be done. Somehow the water went from up in the sky to down on the ground. Then it just kept going in a cycle until we had these long flowing snake-like things that went into big pools of goodness knows what, but it can’t have been good for anyone because before you knew it, we had this green stuff growing everywhere, I don’t know why it was green, and who got to decide what green even is but they clearly didn’t know what was good for themselves. Or for us. That’s how we got these big green bits and small green bits. Then of course, some clever dick decided we had to name all this stuff— dunno whose idea that was but of course it brought on disagreements on all sides because— what is a name? I don’t know why they decided these names, but they did, and now we have mountains and rivers and trees and grasslands and heather and council meetings and taxes and rebates and valleys. And that Valley in particular was pleasant and peaceful and quiet and nobody was that fussed about naming anything because… well we’d already been through all that. Nothing new. No more names. Peace was a plenty. We were full of peace.
By Matt Baron4 years ago in Fiction
Fools and Sages
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. They arrived before I was born about three decades prior to my birth. Galya Farja was a peaceful place before that, or so I’ve heard. They say the dragons came because the people were too sinful, too self-indulgent, too savage. The Metanoia people were the ones who lived here before but now they are called Drearians by the Benin people. The Benins showed up a little before the dragons. The Benins blame the sinful savageness of the Drearians for the dragons’ arrival. This is what we are all taught in school from the first day to the last. I was raised by my father, the head of agriculture of the valley. My mother was a Drearian, and she was killed in an accident right after I was born, so they say. My father and her never married, he married his own kind and had my half-sister, Tamar. I’m a half-breed and there is only so much my father’s power can get me. I work at the pub in town. Alcohol is forbidden and I don’t mind that, we serve cider mostly and other drinks. It’s mostly just a place for all the Benin men to come after work to avoid their boring lives at home. The Benin women do not come to the pub. Drearian women do though, along with the Drearian men.
By Raine Fielder4 years ago in Fiction
Hellheart
The midnight sky was an orchestra from Hell. Lightning whipped across the sky with the fury of snapped violin strings as the bellowing whale song of thunder shook the ground below. Icy rain fell into the sea which surged against the cliffs to the beat of an idiot metronome. Upon a spire of rock that jutted from the churning waters there stood a lone watchtower. It was the last remnant of a long-forgotten city, its pock-marked stones, the scars that held the tales of countless years facing the harshness of the sea. Against the brunt of the storm, upon the seaward balcony, Maia stood staring into the sky. Despite the violence of the storm Maia remained unphased and although her long hair writhed in the wind the rain did not touch her; instead fizzing into steam against an invisible sphere of magic that surrounded her.
By Chris White4 years ago in Fiction
The Hunted
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Dragons had been extinct for years, and although there used to be dragons roaming the land, the land had been void of them for so long. There weren't always dragons in the valley, until one cold winters day started to change the world as we know it.
By Emilie Turner4 years ago in Fiction
