Writing Challenge app seemed to be a success For The last Sister Adventures post.
Now, let’s continue.
Sister Adventures: Sensory Overload
In all of her 16 years, Melissa did not remember a time when she did not feel out of place. She had always been able to gather a general sense of things going on in a room. It was more than a simple intuition but she had learned to be cautious about how she interpreted things. It wasn’t as if she had a “special gift” or anything, it just made her odd, as far as she was concerned. As she stood in the main room of the abandoned old house that extra sense was more confusing than ever. Their eyes were getting accustomed to the light, but they still could not determine the source. It was more of a glow that filled the room with a softer than natural light. The room was beautiful, almost every surface was crafted from wood if they didn’t know any better they’d have thought it really was just whittled from one huge tree. In the center of the room was a sturdy table which seemed to come right up out of the floor twisted, like a root then branching out to hold the large tabletop. In the center of the table was a basket woven from wild rose branches with the roses still very much alive and attached. The roses filled the room with an almost sickly sweet aroma, it hit the girls almost at the same time and snapped them out of their stunned stance.
Trace walked around the room touching almost every surface, feeling the smooth well worked wood with her fingertips. It was smooth like toys they’d gotten for Christmas, different than normal commercial woodwork because instead of a coat of sealer, the wood had been worked to a natural smoothness grandpa had told them only comes from someone who really loves their craft. The same keen work was found over the window, it nearly looked like it was just floating there, a large carved portrait of an old man, fully bearded with his eyes closed. His long flowing hair was interrupted only by the top of a staff. He reminded Melissa of the pictures of Father Time seen in some of the old picture books back at the cabin. The kindness in his face gave Trace a very peaceful feeling.
Trace might be just an annoying little sister at times, but she had the compassion beyond her 12 years. It was nearly uncanny how she always seemed to know just what to say or do when Melissa needed a shoulder to lean on. There was a sudden jolt in the air as the atmosphere changed and a door on the other end of the room flew open with a bang. Both girls nearly jumped out of their skin and Melissa was put on immediate alert. She grabbed Trace by the arm and pulled her closer to her and stepped between Trace and the door. They waited, holding their breath for what seemed like minutes, their eyes glued to the now open doorway. When a slight shadow stirred, the girls jumped again and ran outside. “I think it might be time to go home.” Melissa said and the front door to the abandoned house slammed shut. Both girls ran back to the railroad tracks and didn’t pause for even a moment when they passed by the tombstone. It’s almost a shame they didn’t, they might have noticed the words that had become more clear since they had been inside the house.
“July 23, 1723 to July 23, 1861”
“Beware those who enter”
The rest was still too worn to read, but if the girls had read the stone again they might not have even contemplated returning the following day. When they got back to their grandparents’ cabin they discovered there had been a change of plans that would allow them to stay at the cabin for the entire weekend rather than go home that evening as had been their habit.
During dinner, the girls were unusually quiet. Their mother had asked what they had been up to but their less than entheastic fibs about frogs in the creek and flowers that had been trampled the adults went back to their own conversation leaving the girls to contemplate what would happen next. To the surprise of both of them they had come up with the same plan, at nearly the same moment and both understood this, without either of them saying a word. Getting ready for bed they had only said a few words to one another to confirm what they already knew. Both of them knew they would have a fitful night as they played the events of the day over and over in their brains.
Setting a timer and seeing what you come up with on the fly good exercise for the brain. For now, we don’t worry much about editing or making everything work perfectly. At this point, it’s just about getting words on paper (or a screen). As you can see not much has been done in the refining of this work. That is ok, being creative is something that makes me happy. It doesn’t have to be perfect. I’m not turning it in for a grade and my life doesn’t depend on the outcome. Finding something you LIKE to do and JUST DOING it can make a big difference in how you deal with stress.
There is a writing challenge app especially for kids as well. As the summer heat explodes, give them something quiet and creative to do. Teach them how to use the app for kids and then let them learn to illustrate the story as well. By the end of summer, you can take their work into an office supply store and have it bound for just a little, or if you have extra patience you can teach them how to bind it themselves the way people did way back when. Give them the same advice I have given above. It’s not about perfection, it’s about doing something you enjoy.