Thanksgiving Writing

Three stories were written in 45 minutes.

All were given the same prompt:

 

Requirements: 600 Words
Must include a Christian or Deep Reflection Element
Setting: A fog covered mountain pass at dusk with a narrow trail carved into the side of the cliffs. The wind carries the smell of pine, cold stone, and something faintly metallic
Characters:
Prompt: Two characters are forced to travel the mountain pass together as a storm rolls in.
Required plot elements: Must include a danger in the fog. A confession. A twist.

Stories are deidentified.

Which is best?  1, 2, or 3?

 

Story 1:

Upon an evening, many years ago, an evening like many, but to our characters, an evening of unique challenge and growth, we begin our story. A story so unique, and yet so familiar, or perhaps if not familiar a story which the reader must become familiar if one wishes to live their life fully.

Upon the aforementioned evening, Knave the sea otter, pulls in his nets from his shipyard and closes up his shop of sea faring supplies, nets and hooks of every kind, sea curious of ship wrecks and sunken treasure, shells, and other gifts such as would be wanted by travelers coming and going from Eastern Bagabadama.

On this evening, Knave appeared wistful. Was it a longing for home? A remembrance of the warm climbs of his youth? A longing for the call of the red iiwi so familiar to his youthful days? A yearning for the lush mountains and waterfalls of happy childhood days, before the Yankapo came and carried him away to Bagabadama? No, those things never truly leave a sea otter, but on this evening, it was a darker foreboding presence felt over his shoulder. Foreboding, but was it a feeling of doom?

“No”, thought Knave, “there is no doom, save the unknown. The unknown is always scary, but yet what potential awaits.”

“Ahhhh”, he ruminated, “Her she is. It is time!

————–

Just at this same time, slightly up the hill in a northwesterly direction, the direction sea travelers often took toward town, Grace, the chipmunk, was cleaning up her glazers, and closing down her shop where she sold Curione’ glazed nuts to the local and travelers alike.

An excitement descended upon her. She quickened her steps and let her fingers fly. Something new was coming to her life. She was almost giddy. What might be coming?

She closed and locked the door and scurried down the path towards Knave’s Curio and Tackle. Grace and Knave had recently become friends.

She recalled their first meeting fondly. A moment of truth for both of them.

“He was so sad that day. I was so glad I could share a hope with his tortured heart.”

Arriving at Knave’s shop she called out.

“Knave? Are you ready?”

“Aye,” replied Knave. “Aye lass, let us be going. It is time?”

“Yes. It is time.”

Sensing Knaves mood, Grace quietened herself and stilled her reactions, though she was fairly bursting with excitement for their trip. It is never good to meet someone in a quiet mood with excessive joy or exuberance.

They turned on the path toward the west, toward the mountain, toward…the reflector.

————————

Knave could sense the joy bundled up in the heart of his new friend Grace. He was thankful for her discernment of his mood though. How had she learned the maturity to appropriately restrain her emotions at such a young age. She was wise beyond her years, and even though his otter senses could see her true feelings, yet he appreciated her restraint. It made it easier for him to face the trip.

He remembered their meeting in the vale that day.

He was looking into the still calm pool of creek waters. Wishing for home. Wishing for who he always thought he was, but never seemed to be. Wishing for a life back on his Island home. He was looking into the pool, looking at the scars on his face. His heart was breaking that day for all of his trials thrust upon him, molding and shaping him. He knew inside he was not the gruff exterior that he could see in the reflection of the pool.

Knave was not an old otter, but as he looked at his reflection that day, he appeared old and worn. He was not a warrior, but the scars of battle marked his face. Years of disappointment tugged at his features.

Suddenly a young chipmunk came quietly into view in the water pool. He had not even heard her approach, and he choked back the tear about to form in his eye.

“Are you ok sir?” she had asked.

*cough* “yes of course”, he managed to get out. “You’re a very quiet chipmunk, I did not hear you approach”

She chuckled softly “Sir, I almost fell over a log coming down here. I made so much noise, you were so drawn into the waters reflection, you did not notice! That is why I approached, my curiousity of what was so engrossing to you that my fall did not startle you a moment. Forgive my intrusion!”

“Aye, of course lass”

The conversation had gone on, and this uncommon chipmunk girl spoke thrillingly of the reflector. Not the reflection of a pool, but the beaver up the mountain pass. The beaver who worked in wrought metals. The beaver named Hornk, who could help you see your true reflection.

It was all nonsense and superstition of course.

Yet she seemed so sure, something had welled up within the depths of him. At a time when he was looking at a reflection that he KNEW was not him. Oh it reflected his face accurately, but he knew it did not reflect him. How could she have an answer to such a thing, and he hadn’t brought it up. He had merely been walking along on an afternoon stroll, and got pulled into such thoughts and she exploited those thoughts with such sweetness, but with a dagger thrice as sharp as a Yankapo raider.

Coming to himself, he realized he and grace had come to the foot of the pass trail. Some might say the path was treacherous, but really it was just a narrow trail with mountain straight up to the right, and cliff to the left as one walked toward the west. Pines dotted the mountain, so if one fell, one might hang on a pine for some time.

“Shall we climb, lass? You’ve been this way before, aye?”

“Yes,” the little chipmunk shuddered. “I don’t enjoy it much. But the reflector!”

They climbed the trail for hours, the smell of the surrounding granite mountain, and pine nettles filling their nostrils, until all at once Grace’s nose began moving up and down vigorously.

“What is it?” Knave spoke up. “An odd scent. I do not remember it before. It is not a native scent. It is the scent of… metal work?”

Suddenly, to the right, a cave opening was visible, a trickle of smoke wafting up through the trees.

“We are here!” Squeaked Grace, unable to continue her former restraint.

Knave winced, but forced himself forward. “Potential” he breathed.

“Welcome to the shop”, boomed a bright looking beaver. It was a bright welcome, but simple, disarming.

“Grace, so good to see you again.”

“So good to see you, Hornk!” exclaimed Grace, attempting to restrain her emotions yet again, but bound over to the beaver and gave him a quick hug.

“Who is your friend?”

“Hornk, please meet Knave. I met him not long ago, and I felt you would be able to help him.”

“Ah, greetings Knave. Why have you come?”

“I. Don’t really know. This furball with wee legs found me one day, and my heart needed something.” He said, surprising himself with his candidness.

“I have just the thing” Said Hornk. “Come, here is a beaten work of wrought gold…it is not perfectly clear, but perhaps, you will see your true reflection because of it?”

Hornk turned the piece towards Knave as he beckoned him closer to the fire.

Knave looked at his reflection in the beaten gold, and saw….himself. Where he once saw the scars, they were clear. It was as if Hornk was somehow able to have left imperfections in the gold, that cancelled the scars.

What Knave saw that evening unique to himself, but hopefully common to us all, is a true reflection of his heart, because of the craftsmanship of the metal worker.

 

 

Story 2

The gray mist carried the smell of old pine trees, stone drenched with the remains of a past rain, and oddly enough, something that smelled like rusty metal. 

Caleb stood atop the mountain overlook, looking back at the trail he had just hiked. The elevation of the mountain and the early time of day added to the thickness of the foggy atmosphere around him. Not that he minded.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Caleb shuddered, it was never a good idea to be caught on top of a mountain when a storm arrived. He should probably start his way back down. 

He made it halfway back to the trail end from the overlook when he heard the crunching of leaves and the snapping of twigs. Caleb turned his head to see another man coming up the trail, headed towards him. 

“Hey, enjoying the hike?” Caleb smiled in greeting as the other man approached him. 

“Hike? What are you talking about?” The stranger responded. 

Caleb frowned. “I was assuming you came from the bottom of the hiking trail on this mountain like I did.” 

The newcomer shook his head. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” 

“Okayyyy.” Caleb was very confused now. “Well in any case, I need to be making my way back down. There’s a storm coming, and it’s not good to be out in the open when a storm hits.” He started to walk past the man, but he didn’t get very far back down the trail when he noticed that it was no longer there. That couldn’t be right. 

“Wasn’t there, where did the trail go?” Caleb turned back to the other man. 

“I think you must be confused.” The man said. “There is a trail down the mountain, but it’s not an easy trip, so I’m not quite sure how you got up here to begin with.” 

Something very strange was going on. Was the fog messing with him? And he clearly came up this way earlier. At least he thought he did. 

“Can you take me to the other trail? I really need to get back home.” Caleb asked the other man. 

“I can show you the way, but I warn you, none who have tried to leave have ever made it.” 

That wasn’t foreboding at all.

“Who are you?” Caleb asked. “And why are you being so cryptic?” 

“I am called Blane.” the man answered. “And I’m only telling you like it is. I still don’t know how you managed to get up here in the first place, but the trial back down isn’t easy.” 

“Okay, but then how did you get up here?” Caleb challenged. 

Blane opened his mouth to answer, but a loud crack sounded from the sky, drowning out his voice. 

Caleb growled. “Nevermind, just take me to the trail, I need to get off this mountain.” 

                            <><><><><><>

The cliffside sported a narrow path, winding along the edge, daring those who tried to cross it. 

“You gotta be kidding.” Caleb muttered. 

“I tried to tell you the path home wasn’t easy.” 

“Whatever, let’s go.” 

Caleb and Blane started towards the cliff side path as the air grew colder and spits of rain began to fall. 

“Stay as close to the wall as possible, and follow the path, don’t stray from it.” Blane warned. 

“You’re crazy if you think I would!” Caleb returned, pressing himself flat against the wall. 

Several minutes passed in silence as the pair slowly made their way down the path. The coming storm grew louder as its presence chased them down the mountain, determined to win this race and trap them in its clutches. After a bit of time, the path split in two directions. The right side continued against the cliff wall, but narrowed significantly. The left side path was much wider, and went through a flat part of the mountain, with no apparent danger. 

“Stay along the cliffside!” Blane shouted over the wind. 

“Are you sure? The left side looks safer. How do you know it doesn’t lead to the same place?” Caleb asked. 

“Several others thought the same, and they never returned! Stay on the narrow path!” 

There he went being cryptic again. Caleb really wondered who on earth this guy was. But he seemed determined to not let Caleb stray from the cliffside. Caleb took a deep breath and continued inching along the wall, despite his logic telling him to ditch the crazy guy and go towards the safer path. 

The storm eventually caught up with them. The rain poured down, dripping off the rocks above the duo like small waterfalls, wetting the edge of the pathway. Thunder boomed, lighting cracked against the sky. 

“This is where it gets tricky!” Blane shouted. “You have to press on even through the storm! You’ll never make it otherwise!” 

Caleb was really starting to get annoyed with this guy. But he also really wanted to get home, so he continued. 

It took awhile, and several times Caleb felt like giving up, but Blane was there the whole time, offering advice and direction as they traversed the narrow path. Caleb had to be thankful for one thing. At least the pathway was straight. 

Caleb and Blane took shelter in a cave near the bottom of the mountain, and waited out the worst of the storm.

“Since we are waiting, why don’t you go ahead and tell me who you are, and why in the world I wasn’t able to get back down the way I came?” Caleb questioned. 

Blane looked at Caleb, then to the ground. “Well, I suppose I have a confession to make. You’ve come this far, so you deserve to know.” 

“Know what?”

“This mountain is magical. People come to the top for its view and its beauty. What people don’t realize is that the path then closes itself off and doesn’t let you go back the way you came. The mountain wants to test those who set foot on it, to see if they are able to make it through the trials it presents.” 

“Trials?” 

“Like the stormy weather, the multiple pathways. The mountain tests us in the way life does, testing our decisions, seeing which direction we will take,” 

Caleb blinked a few times. “Okay. But that still doesn’t explain who you are or how you got up the mountain.” 

“I am a guide, I was chosen to lead those who would venture to the top of the mountain. My purpose is to help keep people on the right path, the way of the straight and narrow.” 

“So you knew about the path disappearing and didn’t tell me?” 

“It’s the law of the mountain. The mountain tests those who climb it, and I can’t tell them of its ways unless they prove themselves able to overcome.” 

“So that’s why you didn’t want me to go to the left path, despite it being wider, and safer looking.” 

“Correct. In this mountain of life we live, there are always two choses, life and death, right and wrong, light and dark.” Blane stated. “The mountain presents you with a choice, the wide path that leads to destruction, or the straight and narrow that leads to life. It’s my job to help people make the right choice.” 

As Caleb mused over this, the storm had finished its strongest torrent, and the pathway became clear enough to see again. Blane looked outside of the cave, and turned back to Caleb. 

“Not far now, let us continue.”.

 

Story 3

It would have been a foggy night. Wouldn’t it? Caden took that as a sign. 

As lonely and eerie as the howling of a lone wolf, separated from his pack, the wind murmured secrets through the branches and leaves. Pine tinted the breeze along with something else. Caden couldn’t place it. 

His steps patted along the dirt and rock road, his eyes wearily glancing over the edge of the cliff’s trail. 

Silence was the only companion. One of his mind. Something cold and numb had attached itself to his chest. Every fiber had stilled. Every desire, forgotten. 

This is where he had come to. 

Caden continued along the path; every brush of the breeze against his cloak made each step harder. Why were his feet so heavy? 

The fog clouded his vision, so thick he could barely see the steps ahead. Why did this darkness constantly follow him no matter where he went? 

His foot struck something, his breath hitched, body skidding towards the ground. Gravel and dirt scraped against his hands as he made his landing. Dust entered Caden’s lungs, yet as he pushed to right himself his left hand slipped. Tightness grabbed and contracted his chest. 

His hand had found the edge of the cliff. Without… whatever it was he tripped on, he’d have fallen off. 

That shouldn’t have scared him. 

The path veered around a tight corner. He’d have to shimmy against the wall to keep his footing. 

Caden gulped in a breath, sweat dribbling down his blond hair as he staggered to his feet. 

The narrow corner proved to be a challenge, but he overcame it steadily. 

Brush and trees lined the path as it stretched larger, forking. One side led back down the other side of the mountain. The other stretched higher, towards the cliff’s edge. 

The satchel by his side began to burn, tormenting his skin through the leg of his trousers. Why had he brought it?

Yet he continued. 

Each step, heavier. Heavier. Heavier. Like stone was encasing his feet and moving upwards.

Why was he doing this? What events had led him to this point in his life? 

He knew each one. Memorized them. He’d been forgotten. Been a disappointment. He’d tried so hard, yet never quite managed to perform in the way he should have. 

Grass smacked against his calf. He hadn’t realized the weeds had gotten so tall. 

Just a few more yards and he’d reach the top. 

“Ahoy there!” 

Fire burned from how fast Caden whipped his neck about. 

A stranger, cloaked as well, was making his way up the opposite path towards him. 

His lips trembled, eyes darting from the top of the cliff and back down to this man. Although he didn’t continue on his path, he didn’t retreat either. 

“I say!” The stranger got closer, a few yards away, the wind tossing his cloak’s hood violently so that his face was obscured. “I didn’t expect to find anyone up here.” 

Caden tightened a hand on the strap of his satchel, sweat trailing down his back from the nerves eating away at his stomach like he was some kind of banquet feast. 

He forced a response. “I could say the same.” 

The stranger seemed out of breath, “Might I… accompany… you.” He pulled in another breath. “To the top, young lad? I’d like to see what’s in the distance as well.” The wind ripped his hood off and revealed sparkling blue eyes and a peculiar smile that didn’t fit a stranger meeting another on the road.

Something in him didn’t want to say yes. Did he really have a choice? 

The two of them wordlessly began up the mountain again. After a few moments the stranger began in conversation. 

“Do you travel alone often?”

“No.”

“Where are you headed?”

The knots that responded in his stomach should have told him. “I-I’m not sure yet.” Somehow, he felt his unsuriy was a lie.

They reached the top. The plains stretched out far, rolling and billowing, hiding towns and adventures to be had. Below, plummeting straight down, the rocks cascaded into a dried out ravine. 

Caden gulped in a breath. He glanced at the stranger. “Where… where are you heading, sir?” 

The man gave a sad smile. “I’ve arrived where I was heading, son.” 

Something pulsed in his chest, stretching fire towards the item he knew was in his satchel. Why had he brought it? Did he think it would save him? 

“Why did you bring it?”

Caden’s eyes jumped up to the strangers, yet for an odd reason, he didn’t pretend he didn’t know. He’d been found out. With trembling hands, Caden reached into his pouch. His fingers found leather binding, and he pulled the book out. The pages opened automatically, dancing furiously in the wind. 

Something was pressing against his eyes. Something hot. It ached in his chest deeper than he could explain. His eyes blinked back the tears as he glanced again over the edge. He panted, “Because I-I still… believe it.”

The stranger’s sadness was evident beneath his beard. “Then why have you come here?”

A sob escaped his lips, and he felt his arms tremble, “Because! It-it-it’s not enough, I-I…” He shook his head, his arms hanging limply by his side as he clutched the book. 

“Caden.” The warmth of the stranger’s tone was healing. A hand touched his shoulder. “When has it never been enough?”

Water blurred his vision, yet his eyes made its way to stare at the ravine. At his impending end. 

If he went through with this, would his end be? He really didn’t know. 

“I know you’re hurting. I know your pain.” The stranger’s eyes begged for Caden to accept his words. “But please. Don’t give up on Me.” 

The numbness, the lack of feeling, everything that had dried out in his chest and soul reawakened like a flame. Another sob broken free. “But I’m not-I can’t do it.” His knees buckled, and he hit the ground. 

A pair of arms wrapped around him, covering him from the wind. Warmth seeped into his bones. “You don’t have to. Let Me.” 

Caden nodded. Desperately. Pleading, as tremors overtook his body. He didn’t want everything to be on him anymore. 

“Caden.” Like an embrace, the words began soothing his troubled soul that hadn’t let him rest since before the days he’d parted from home. “Even in your darkest moment, even when you were determined in your heart that this was the end, you still brought Me with you.” 

Through teardrops, Caden glanced down and found the Bible in his hands. He shuddered, letting out another sob and falling into His Saviour’s arms. Because truly, he hadn’t been a stranger.