In haste … two boys asleep and a million things Mummy should be doing 😉
Sorry for my lack of involvement last week – I posted my story but I’m still getting to comments and haven’t read more than a couple of others. I’m hoping for better this week, but I’m still getting used to this new life, so bear with me.
Your thoughts on this week’s story are as welcome as ever. I read and appreciate all comments, even when it takes me a while to reply. Prompt courtesy of Madison Woods (it’s an old one – my previous response is here.)
Windows To The Soul
It looked at her: unblinking eyes, piercing through the heavy parcel of air between them. Patience stared back.
“I see you,” she whispered. She wanted to turn away, but another body at her back held her in place. All around her, the half-light heaved with hot, hungry breath. They had entered this ship so many individuals, but already they breathed as one – a single mass of despair.
Except the eyes that bored into her. Those eyes held none of the panic, none of the fear, none of the pain that had filled them minutes before. The eyes were at peace.
Once again, my Friday Fiction story has left me pondering. Or maybe it’s just shone a spotlight on something I was already thinking about. In a highbrow mood the other week, we watched Back To The Future III (previous highbrow moods the previous two weeks had included I and II) and it got me thinking about time. Not time travel, but time itself.
I’m constantly staggered by the incredible pace at which time flows, so that what our grandparents experienced as every-day seems completely alien to us. Humanity doesn’t change, and I think it’s naïve to think that the terrible things man did to man in a previous generation couldn’t happen again – aren’t happening again already – but the world in which those human actions take place, that changes wildly. I can remember a time when we didn’t have mobile phones – when we said “I’ll see you at 8 o’clock” and then we stuck to it, because we had no way to text or call and switch things up – and even when we didn’t have internet and email. But I’m part of the last generation who didn’t grow up with those things. My generation takes TV for granted, for the generation before it’s home phones, then electric light and so on.
Back to Back To The Future; the Wild West was just three generations before my parents. People who were born in that world could have fought in the World Wars, or could certainly have watched their children doing so.
As I said, I find it staggering. But I also find it magical, because books and films can take me there. I can read Little Women and jump straight into the American civil war period, or All Quiet On The Western Front and land squarely in the trenches. You don’t have to write fantasy to be a world-builder. Even the most straight-forward “here and now” novel is creating a time-capsule for the world it depicts.
And that, for me, is magical.