Just got to thinking today that so many of our stories have characteristics and qualities that are both generic and universal. I decided to experiment a little with writing a story using nonsense terms instead of normal nouns and verbs. I’m certain you will be able to understand the story with very little trouble. It was fun, and I think it helps focus on the fact that sometimes it isn’t just choosing the right word that matters. It’s how we put those words together into a setting that gets the job done.
THE BONDO DELAFOR
The young delafor wandered through the cogem, wishing he could find a delafora to be his rhuba. He’d heard the fonders tell of bondo delafors who had won the hands of delaforas by zonering the terrible goganbulls. He knew the goganbulls were threatening the cogem, and many delafors were terrizon of them. He didn’t know if he were bondo enough to zoner a goganbull or not, but he hoped he’d have a chance.
One day the great kinba of the cogem announced that a goganbull had been spotted just outside the cogem. The great kinba porsayed that he would give the most beautiful delafora to the delafor who zonered that goganbull.
So the young delafor raced to his stetsa, hopped on, and took off to find the goganbull and zoner it. When he found the goganbull, it was maxma! It was so maxma that the young delafor’s stetsa reared up, threw the delafor off, and ran away. Now the only thing the delafor had was his pontier. So he looked the goganbull in the eye, stood up straight and tall and shumed toward him. Keeping eye contact, he shumed all the way to within two feet of him. The goganbull gloamed and hot smeltz came from his buzzle.
But the young delafor rememberd the beautiful delafora who was porsayed by the great kinba. The delafor wanted that delafora for his rhuba very badly. So he aimed his pontier and shumed the last two feet toward the goganbull; then he flumed his pontier right into the goganbulls corva. With one horrible gloam, the goganbull fell over, and black smoke roold from his buzzle. Then all was quiet.
The young delafor took his pontier and whapped off the goganbull’s henda and carried it back to the great kinba. That day the young delafor won the most beautiful delafora in the cogem to be his very own rhuba. And they both lived schnookumy ever after.
Here we are again to National Poetry Month — and good ol’ NaPoWriMo. To be honest, April just slipped up on me this time, and I’m pressing to get my poem in. I’m sure I’ll not find the time to write a new poem for all 30 days, but I’m going to go for all the days I can. If you’d like to take part, just follow the link by clicking on the graphic below and go, go, go.
Day # 1’s prompt is to write a poem of negation — describing something in terms of what it is not — or is not like.
My Love Is Not a Knight in Shining Armor
He doesn’t ride a charger sleek and white;
He wears no armor, and he bears no sword.
He never slayed a dragon breathing fire;
Never received a gallant knights reward.
He never rescued maidens fair and sweet;
He never fought a foe with rapier blade.
No maidens swoon to look on his physique.
His hero medals tarnish, and they fade.
No, he’s no knight in shining armor, true.
But he loves me, and that’s all he needs to do.
Friday Fictioneers just keeps tickling my whimsy, and I can’t seem to get a serious thought for my stories lately. Oh, well, I’m having fun, and that’s really the reason I joined this team of delightfully talented people. See below my story for links to join in the fun if you haven’t already.
“At the very top of the building you see what’s left of the king’s former messenger,” the guide explained. “Doomed by a curse to hang from the roof and look straight ahead forever but never see anything. Punishment for looking lustfully at the king’s daughter.”
“You mean he’s still alive?” one tourist asked.
“Indeed, but will never have a body unless the princess herself breaks the curse.”
“She must publicly forgive him, then climb up and seal the forgiveness with a kiss.”
“And she refuses?”
“Oh, she’s willing enough, but … alas … she’s afraid of heights.”
To join in the fun and write your own 100-word story about this picture, hop over and get all the scoop about the challenge at Rochelle’s site.
This week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt is a photo by David Stewart of a statue in his home city in Korea. My response turned out to be a love story — maybe because my focus this week is on Valentine’s Day. Here’s David’s photo, followed by my take on the challenge.
A Royal Love Story
Once upon a time, a starving sculptor fell hopelessly in love with Princess Kameko.
“He will have to create a great statue for the courtyard of my palace, and prove himself worthy of you,” the king said to Kameko. “It must exhibit his love for you in such unusual manner that people from many lands will travel to see it.”
The artist thought – agonized – for days, finally presenting himself to the king with tools in hand.
Three days later, the royal city gathered in the courtyard and gasped with pleasure at the unveiling of the oblique statue: Falling In Love.