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Storytime Tapestry Newsletter
The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural
awareness throughout the world.
Hearts and Humor – A Michael Smith Column
January
23, 2007
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version online: http://archives.zinester.com/86758/119575.html
Hello, my wonderful family of readers. Hopefully you
will receive this. AOL is still blocking Zinester.
We finally have winter in New Jersey. On Friday, we
had our
first snow of the season - just enough to cover the ground.
It's already melted away. If you look in shaded places you might
still be able to find a bit, but not enough for the winter fun I
write about today. A little boy and his imagination brings life
to a frosty world.
Part of today's story was also used in Wednesday's story
titled, "Warm Memories of Ice." Today I bring you Part II of
the story, "I Could Fly Away."
Today is also my writing contest weekend. As many of you
know,
every three months I compete in the Writersweekly.com 24-hour short
story contest. At 1 PM today, I
received a subject and the required
word length. I have 24 hours to write my story and have it submitted.
Here is the topic I was given:
It always happened when the room was too quiet. Random
phrases
were once again racing in and out of her mind. Black forest, red
velvet, white wine, blue cheese, hash browns... Her hands tightened
into fists and she furiously shook her head, trying to dispel the
obsessive thoughts that assailed her daily. She wiped her hands
across her apron as she turned to the pot that was now boiling
over. When she was putting the hot pan in the sink, she noticed
a movement in the reflection of the window. She turned quickly,
but her guests were still sitting motionless, right where she'd
left them...
~~~~~
WORD COUNT Stories for today's topic must not exceed 1200 words.
Wish me luck! I'm thinking something dark and sinister. Like
always, this contest makes me write outside the box. I probably
won't post it to my family here, but I will provide a link
for those who are curious to see my entry.
Now for todays story:
I Could Fly Away
Part II
If you missed Part I, it can be read at
http://archives.zinester.com/86758/118913.html
A cold wind whipped powdered snow into my face. It tingled
on my cheeks, before melting and dripping from my chin. I picked
up a handful of snow, squeezed it tight in my hands, and made a
snow-bomb.
My target, a castle made from blocks of snow carefully cut
from the hard-packed snowdrift that stretched the length of our
yard, towered on a rock in front of me. I took aim and hurled my
snow-bomb at it. It went high, landed in a drift behind the castle,
where it created a small crater.
I made another snow-bomb and fired again. This one hit the
left tower of the castle. A turret toppled over. In my imagination,
the evil wizard screamed, "You will pay for this, King Michael.!"
The captured maiden screamed, "King Michael, save
me!"
Another snow-bomb crashed into the castle. The evil wizard
cursed as his castle came crashing down around him. The snow maiden
leaped and landed safely in the feathery snow. She stood and waved,
"I love you, King Michael!"
"Michael, time for supper!" Mum called from the
house. My
maiden faded from view - back to reality.
**************************
Wet snow covered our yard. I grabbed a handful, rolled it
forward
and created a big ball. Before long, an evil snowman stood in front
of me. His stone eyes and buttons, created from the gravel in our
driveway, stood out against his white uniform. A wet stocking cap,
stuffed with snow, stood erect on his head. His stick arms threatened
my kingdom.
"Snowman, stay back. If you want a fight, you better be
ready
for a good one!" I threatened.
He said.
Snowmen don't talk much.
I hit him with a snow-bomb. One of his buttons dropped to
the
ground. "Had enough?" I yelled. Stony-eyed, he stood silent.
I pelted him with several more bombs. He began to show
the
effects of my onslaught. One eye was missing and a couple of his
teeth lay at his feet. The stocking cap lay several feet behind him.
In his weakened state, I grew brave, moved in, and pulled my
sword - the sword from a swordfish - from my belt. It whistled
through the air. His head toppled to the ground, dislodging his
remaining eye. My kingdom was safe again.
**************************
A road passed in front of our house. It became a border. On
the other side was an open field, where the enemy prepared their
attacks on my make-believe country. Above the border stretched a
maze of power lines. The wires were a defense system.
At night, I'd launched snowballs in the direction of the
enemy.
They became imaginary bombers. If they got through the wires, my
bombers were successful in their attack. If they hit the wires,
they failed, and disintegrated into puffs of white crystals that
sparkled in the brightness of the street light that hung on the
pole down the road.
I launched one for my side and one for the enemy. They took
turns attempting to penetrate the defenses. After ten turns each,
the winner was the one who got the most bombers passed the defense.
"Michael! Time for bed!" Mum called. The
battle was over.
**************************
I stood and looked down the slope to the harbor. Sunlight
reflected off the icy surface. I shielded my eyes, pursed my lips,
and lowered my sled to the ice. I stretched out and held myself
still. My damp wool mittens froze to the ice. My heart hammered in
my chest. Happy the hard crust held my weight, I smiled, sucked a
deep breath and pushed off.
I shot down the hill, gained speed, and screamed with
pleasure.
My hands gripped the handles so tight, my fingers turned white
inside my mittens. The metal runners rattled over the ripples in
the ice. The frigid wind made my eyes tear. Cold wind turned my
cheeks red. My hat blew off and wind whistled past my ears. At
top speed, I leaned into the first turn and slipped to the right.
On the second turn, I tipped to the side, gained control, and
ripped down the final slope to the bottom.
My heart continued to hammer in my chest as I neared the
end.
I stopped and wobbled when I tried to stand. The pounding of my
heart slowed. I raced back to the top, to do it again.
I played all day. If I crashed, my body would bounce over
the ice, and slowly come to a stop. I'd lay on my back and wait
for a pretend ambulance to cart me away.
**************************
The end of another day of playing in my frosty backyard
approached. The sky turned dark. A light snow began to fall. I
turned our porch light on and lay on our front steps. Big snowflakes
drifted down from the sky, landed on my face, and tickled my nose.
I kept staring at the falling flakes. After a few minutes, I
had the illusion of flying upward. The flakes, white from the porch
light, looked like stars. I was on a spaceship traveling through
space to places unknown. The stars passed by. New adventures were
mine to have. Earth was far behind. I was flying.
Whenever I needed to escape a mean brother or a family
squabble,
I could count on the snowflakes to help. I could fly away.
Michael T. Smith
If you want to send comments, please send them to mtsmith@qwestonline.com.
I love hearing from you.
To read my stories or to sign up
to receive my weekly story, go to:
http://archives.zinester.com/86758/
Keep on waving
Here is a comment on last weekends story.
From the Mom who took care of me when my mom couldn't.
She refers to the ice storm:
Yea, that was a bad one eh! You brought it back to life!
Liz
***********
Dear Mike, Your stories have beautiful descriptions. "Warm
Memories of Ice" takes me back to Pennsylvania and East
Tennessee winters in the 1940's and 1950's, when I was a child.
Thank you, Michael, for your wonderful stories... AND please
tell Ginny that I am enjoying the lovely items she makes,
several of which I have bought on the ETSY web site. She is
certainly quite talented !!
Sincerely, Corena
*************
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