Carrot Ranch is in the capable hand of this week and this is the prompt.
June 15, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that symbolically, mythically, mystically, or realistically involves dawn, as a noun or verb. Write about the dawn of time or the time of dawn, or the dawning of an idea. As always, go where the prompt leads.
living in the northern hemisphere so far up we don’t get the lights on, lights off that represents dawn and dusk on the equator. It’s a slow burn, a smudge and a smear, a hint. Not so much the break of dawn as a slow realisation that things are changing. Black to white becomes grey for some while before the change is effected.
There is something unhurried to this, like night is considering leaving but might stay for one more drink while day turns over and puts its alarm on snooze. Indecisive or balanced I’m not sure. Dawn though is a beautiful time to be alive not least because nature seems somehow more engaged in the process. The stillness of night, the slow moving shadows give way to a tumult of bird song, shapes shift and solidify, substance takes over from superstition. Dawn isn’t so much a new birth as a reminder you are alive and here’s a new opportunity to be the person you aspire to be.
This week’s flash finds Paul in reflective mood…
‘What you doing love?’ Mary slipped next to Paul, hunched under a blanket in the conservatory. ‘It’s barely light.’
‘Darkest before dawn,’ Paul sounded rueful.
‘Couldn’t sleep? Work?’
Paul stared at the smear of red in the sky. ‘Penny told me I was unfair to you. 3 years since your dad passed and I go to the pub.’
‘No she’s right. Looking out for you.’ He smiled. ‘The dawning of womanhood, eh?’
Two hours later Penny found her parents snuggled on the sofa, asleep. She rubbed her eyes, grinned and went to make them all some tea.
And if you’d like to find out more about Paul Mary and Penny, click here.