Maxim Trevelyan Writer, Ravenclaw Crossroads Two figures stopped at a crossroads. The road only had two options, one path that led left, towards the gathering clouds, the other led right toward sunshine. The left sign led toward a land called ‘Certain Doom’, the other, that pointed right, to ‘Blissful Lane’. “So…” the knight stopped. “Where to my lady?” “Left of course,” the princess snorted and giddied her horse in that direction. “Don’t let the name fool you, it’s quite a popular summer destination.” Knight nodded, not quite believing. “If we get eaten, it’s your fault,” he called out before following his charge to Certain Doom. Maxim Trevelyan Writer, Ravenclaw Procrastination “Don’t forget to put the chicken out of the freezer,” Mom said before shutting the front door. “Yeah, yeah,” I murmured and threw myself on the sofa. I looked at the door, contemplating whether I should start on my chores or close my eyes for a bit. With a slam from an unknown source, I opened my eyes. I looked at the time and saw I slept through the entire day. Cursing softly to myself, I ran to the kitchen to take out the chicken, but it was too late. Next time, I need to choose my actions more wisely. Sky Alton Writer, Gryffindor On Watch Rain was running down the back of his neck and dripping into his eyes. He’d given up trying to wipe it away. He went over to the parapet and looked over, though he knew only those who were desperate would be out today. The two roads stretched out beneath, with the tower (and him) at the point where they crossed. He squinted along each of the four arms in turn, straining his eyes to where they vanished into the mist. He thought of the guardroom with its crackling fire. But suppose there were desperate people out there in the storm… Sky Alton Writer, Gryffindor Safety To her left, the road curved away around a shoulder of rock. The city must lie beyond. Her heart was still hammering from the attack and she was trying not to think about what had happened to her guards. The attackers would probably follow. She ought to be running towards the city and the king’s protection. They’d shut her safely behind the palace walls. She glanced to her right. A tiny track, barely more than a break in the underbrush. She was alone. Unguarded. Now was her chance, perhaps the only one she would get. She scrambled off the road. Gail Allen Editor Chance Meetings I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I'd chosen differently that day. If instead of turning right, I'd gone to the left instead. I know I wouldn't have met her. Or maybe I would have. If we hadn't started talking in that cafe, maybe she'd have continued down the road and we'd have met anyway? I wonder how much of our lives is planned out for us, and how much we can make our own choices. Sometimes things just seem like they're meant to be, you know? Like I was meant to meet her. And here we are: Married. Gail Allen Editor New Boots
"Are you sure it's the right way?" Gail asked. Her feet were starting to get sore, not least because she had chosen to wear new hiking boots - she was now seriously questioning her own sanity for making this choice. Who wore new boots to a hike? You were supposed to try them on at home for a while first and then when they'd been worn for a while and shaped themselves to your foot could you wear them for real. Well... she hadn't done that and she was paying for it now. "OH!" her friend exclaimed "That's the correct road!"
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AboutPoetry poetry poetry! This is where submissions get a bit more creative than most, and it's a wonder how many HOLers (particularly the eagles) are filled with fabulous artsyness. Archives
June 2021
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