Wednesday's Words on a Friday
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.
The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.
This month the words/prompts are supplied by ME and can be found right here
This week's words/prompts are:
Here is my story:
Glenda wandered away from the campground after promising she wouldn't go too far and be 'home' before the sun set. She had been bitterly disappointed at being brought to see an ancient castle surrounded by a moat, instead of the volcano that had originally been decided upon. But a week before leaving their home, the volcano had begun smoking and Mum Raelene, Dad Ian, had both decided it was far too risky. Heaving a sigh, Glenda thought at least this was better than a boring trip to the usual gritty beach where oft-promised sand was never ever seen. They had travelled by train to this caravan park, to find the vans for rent were far bigger than seen on the website and some actually had an annexe attached, jokingly called a sunroom, and Ian had immediately decided that would be the perfect spot for him to sleep in, leaving the spacious beds inside for Raelene and Glenda.
The guided tour of the castle wasn't until mid-morning next day, so Glenda had the rest of today to just explore her holiday surroundings by herself. The seemed to be no other children at the campsite, but Glenda decided that feeling lonesome and sorry for herself would do no good at all and she didn't want to dampen anyone's holiday spirit, after all, it was a holiday away from home and school and perhaps the volcano could be seen next year. Glenda dearly wanted to see the archaeological dig that was there.
Entering the cooler air of the shady woods, she looked around to find something, anything, distinctive to use as a marker to find her way back. A fallen tree covered with bright green moss was to her left, the sun directly ahead, so that was good enough. when walking back she would keep the sun behind her and look for the fallen tree on her right. Glenda walked deeper into the woods, which weren't very dense and soon noticed a small clearing a little way off. Hearing quiet chatter and light laughter, wondering who could possibly be there, Glenda softly walked closer and what a surprise! A small, well miniature really, firepit in which a tiny fire winked through the shadows, was surrounded by gnomes seated on low flat rocks and holding out sticks towards the fire. They were toasting marshmallows! Off to one side sat a couple of female gnomes, chatting animatedly and mending a shirt belonging to one of the men Glenda supposed, since he was toasting his marshmallows in only pants and suspenders.
Glenda inched closer and her foot snapped a dry twig. Instantly the scene before her froze, as if set in concrete and she blinked, a little startled. Surely this was no imagination? They had been alive, chattering and laughing, now even the fire looked like painted stone. She sat on a small log and kept watching. Perhaps if they thought she had left, they would come alive again? Just when she thought she couldn't stay so still a minute longer, one of the gnomes turned his head and winked at her. She smiled and the scene reset itself as it had been, with the fire and the mending women, the toasting marshmallows, a tiny spiral of smoke from the fire. Somehow she knew they had accepted being watched as long as she didn't come any closer.
After a few minutes, Glenda waved goodbye to them and they nodded and smiled back at her as she turned and left. Making sure to keep the lowering sun directly behind her, Glenda walked in an easterly direction until she could once again see the moss covered fallen tree and beyond that, the open space of the campsite. She hurried to tell her mum and dad what she had seen, but chose to keep silent at the last moment. The gnomes would not wish to be disturbed and have to leave their woodland home, if the campsite patrons got all excited and rushed en-masse to see them. She helped with spreading a quilt over her caravan bed and talked instead about the up coming visit to the castle and the moat, complete with drawbridge entrance.