Monday 3 November 2008

Nano, Modern Myth, 1.1.1

Disclaimer: Naturally this is written very fast and with no care for accuracy. These are 3 extracts from part I of Chapter 1: Bonfire Night from 1st Year. The extracts are not linked. They have been cleverly divided by ellipses. I'm so clever.

1st Year

Bonfire Night

I
From the darkness and the chaos came the inferno. But that was in the beginning.

The night was dark and sultry, clouds obscured the sky and blocked out all possible moonlight. A held silence stretched out, waiting, expectant. Light flashed suddenly and brilliantly across the sky in a streak, shrieking as it went. With a loud explosion the light blew into thousands of sparks, releasing the crowd from their spell.
“Ooh!”
“Ahh!”
“Whoah!”
The crowd muttered their ritual incantations.
“I don’t know what they’re so impressed about. You can barely see the fireworks with all this cloud,” Euan muttered, his eyes upturned to the sky.
Another firework shot upwards, exploding above the clouds, like unearthly red sheet lightning. The crowd “oohed” nonetheless.
“It’s not their fault,” Mike replied, thrusting his hands inside his pockets. “They came here to be entertained. And they have no damn intention of leaving until they are.”
The group sniggered slightly at this, their breath curling out like a fine mist and trailing away.
“You know, Mike, you don’t but half talk some bullshit sometimes,” Tom interjected, with a slight shake of his head.
With a whirring scream, a Catherine Wheel was set in motion, a few flying sparks all that could be seen from this far back in the crowd.
“He’s right though,” Euan replied, with a shrug.
“You would take his side, wouldn’t you,” Felix quipped snidely, his eyes dancing with mischief.
“Cut it out, Felix,” Tom snapped back, glowering darkly at him.
There was a brief silence between them, interrupted only by the repetitive pop of a set of Roman Candles being lit.

.....

The monk in his dark recess, lit only by the light of a small candle, prayed and quivered in fear. The air became hotter and thicker, but the fire could not reach him in his stone prison. The monk sweated and gasped; choking he collapsed forward onto his books, the light of his candle dim, so dim now. So dim with no air to keep it lit.

...

“And you think you can write your dissertation on one of these texts?” Mike replied, slightly breathless as they were reaching the summit of Muspel Hill.
“Yes. One specifically. The Old English text.”
The two of them scrambled up the last section of hill in silence and then paused on reaching the top. Mike thought about saying something, but then realised that really, there wasn’t anything he could say.

3 comments:

Quoth the Raven said...

Ooh, brilliant! Nice work, even with the hurry-scurry method of writing which we are adhering to presently. I like the early character set-up; I love the idea of bonfire night representing the Beginning. The middle bit with the monk was very dark. Literally - his candle went out. Very dark.

I'm really looking forward to reading this once finished, it's got a brilliant feel to it. Also: cleverness is you re: ellipses.

Jom said...

Delightful last sentence. Such a broad, sweeping approach to story-telling. I get the impression your story is vast. And epic.

Steffan said...

Love the speed of this. I think I just love pace in general, but I particularly like how different the sections are. Great opening!