Recycling the old: A new story

In the days of booming industry, at the conception of the idea that man could fly, a boy looked beyond the overcast of London and saw honeycomb.  He stared with a slack jaw, the news leaflets in his hand one moment, scattering down the cobblestones the next, falling under-foot of the passers by.  It was faint, yet as he tilted his head to the right, then left, the subtle pattern remained etched in the musty blue sky.  Years could have gone by then, the boy was so transfixed to this celestial window, but a blow behind the head from a stern regular on his tea break brought the boy back down to the bustling street and his job.  He was the cornerstone of news access for many, and so he could not be so completely distracted.  This did not keep his mind from wandering, however, and by the time he went his way home his thoughts churned with images of other-worldly bee creatures with swords and muskets, preparing their diving attack on the unsuspecting Englishmen below.

Despite all these illustrations of eminent war swirling about his head, it took the boy almost twice his usual time to walk home, for he kept his face ever held skyward in the hope a new break in the clouds would bring another glimpse of the honeycomb magic.

 

True story.  Not exactly, but sort of.  You see, one day while I was cloud-watching (yes people still do that), I could swear I saw a honeycomb pattern in the blue of the sky.  Probably just something with my eyes, which is no surprise at all since I’ve had glasses/contacts since I was 6, but that’s beside the point.  A new doorway to my imagination was opened, and I was off.  I thought what it could be, why it would be there, and I got a little short story in my head for it.  But I never really got it down on paper, just a couple sentences, and it was left behind.  For some reason last night, when work was getting quiet, it popped back in my head, and I realized why I had left it.  It had become a simple feel-good death story, and I hate those kind of stories.  There is no purpose but to give the dead a happy ending, and that was all the story was going to be.  So I’m revamping it like crazy, and this is the start.  I’m hoping to continue with this, although at the moment it is still a side-project.  I will have some new Apocalypse/Anubis updates soon, although I don’t know if it will be an extension of the chapter I gave you all to start with or if it will be a new chapter all together.  I jump a LOT with my novels, which makes progress slower I’m sure, but I can’t help it.  Anyway, short post is short, have to get to work and all that good stuff.  Take a read, thoughts and critique are always appreciated.  Thanks for your support, everyone! Cheers!

~S. Virginia

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5 thoughts on “Recycling the old: A new story

  1. You’re starting to freak me out a little. In my third book (soon to be published) there is definite and repeated mention of a web of circles which encases Earth’s atmosphere, which can only be seen by magic. I call it the “Web of the Weaver” – you’ll read all about it. After your Anubis reference the other day – another theme in my third book – I can’t help but wonder if we’ve got the same spiritual muse or something. It’s very strange, yet interesting. But this is great writing that you’re doing! I really think that you’re going to find someday that all these seperate stories you’re drawn to can actually be interconnected into one vast tale, so I’ll be watching for something like that to happen.

    • lol! Well after this comment, I wouldn’t be surprised if we do! Originally I worked a lot of my stories as fan fictions, and they all intertwined into one big fan-fiction. The idea was again the humans are the creators, and that all the stories they created became their own universes. A girl gets sucked into them as a challenge, to make a difference in each world. She visits places like Lord of the Rings, Dragon Ball Z, silly things like that, and finally makes it home. I don’t think that will happen with the big stories I’m working on now that are all my own design (or as much my design as they can be), but we’ll see.

  2. I really like this story Rana. I wanted to keep reading and find out if the honeycomb pattern would reappear, and if it only appeared to the little boy or if other people could see it too.
    COOL!!
    I hope you finish this

    Jon

    • Thank you Jon! I actually haven’t thought about this article for a long time, but I did always like the idea. I really don’t know where to go with it. I had two ideas when I started, and I don’t know which is less silly; the honeycomb pattern is a dimensional field for an alien race to watch the development of man, or the tiles of the floors of heaven, which only a select few people can see. Perhaps I’ll have to take a poll of some sort. :) Or make it into a community piece and have someone else continue the story. If I go the latter route, would you be interested in being the first contributor?

      • Absolutely! I like the idea of it being the floors of heaven that only a few can see. Possible questions would be, why can only certain people see it? What does it do to them? Is it the people who are going to die soon? Does it give them other special perceptions? Do they mysteriously connect with other people who can see it? What is the connecting factor?
        I mostly write non-fiction but this story is intriguing

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