On one of the few warm and sunny days left of autumn, we decided to ride our bikes along the new stretch of bike trail. The land had been donated by the local chemical company. Where yellow “no trespassing” signs proliferated before was now accessible by all.
The woodland trail was full of gentle slopes and curves. Desicated leaves rustled and sizzled as we traveled among them. Coming around a curve we were struck by a stretch of land forty acres or more where nothing but blow-sand rested.
“This is the barrenness of harvest or pestilence,” I said, “but we know farmers never used this land.”
Few remembered that before it was the site of a chemical plant, it had been a cemetery. On All Hallows Eve desecrated bones clawed their ways to the surface, looking for revenge. They would have it.
The End.
Bjorn is today’s host of dVerse. Bjorn says:
Of course you are free to write your prose about any subject and the line [from poet, Louise Gluck] I have chosen for you to integrate into your prose is:
This is the barrenness of harvest or pestilence
Your prose shall not exceed 144 words and tell a story with a beginning, middle and end. You are free to write either fiction or biographical.
image link here
What darkness will come from that old graveyard… all the chemical waste on decaying flesh sounds like a sinister brew…
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Indeed, Bjorn! This story is part fiction, part fact. The part about the chemical factory donating land to build a section of bike trail through it is true. There are structures seen from it that get the imagination going…
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Dark and sinister Lisa. Well done!
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Thanks, Linda!
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You’re most welcome.
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A chemical plant – fitting for the skeletons to try to claw their way out.
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Thanks Toni. I just left Bjorn a comment that this story is partly based on fact…
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And they should. They were there first!
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Thank you, Mary.
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Building anything atop a cemetery is folly. Your piece is layered double, with the restless angry dead amidst the dead soil, the sands of commercial death; nice spooky job.
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Thank you, Glenn!
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Suitably sinister. (K)
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::::spooky, echoing laughter:::
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A great use of the prompt! Brings back memories of Love Canal in New York many years ago!
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Thanks, Dwight! Yes, we have our own series of them around here.
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That is really sad!
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This was wonderfully creepy Lisa. My father having been the maintenance supervisor of a chemical factory, i remember visiting the place as a child. The buildings were so strange and otherworldly with all the pipes and vats and exposed superstructure. These images came back to me as I read your piece here. Not sure I would bike across land reclaimed from a chemical factory.
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I know what you mean, Rob. I’ve gone that way a few times, but those empty buildings creep me out. It’s not very well-traveled and that safety factor in the back of my mind there could be people waiting to jump out, not to mention going off of the track to rest for a moment. I bet that would be memorable for a child, to see all of that stuff.
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Very eloquent.
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Thank you, Sadje.
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You’re welcome Li
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Creepy indeed. I can only imagine what darkeness will rise again from those graves.
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I enjoyed your tale, Jade, and imagined it being told to a group around a fire, in the dark at Halloween. I like that it has a modern setting on ‘one of the few warm and sunny days left of autumn’, and the description of the woodland trail ‘full. Od gentle slopes and curves’ gives us a false sense of security. However, the chemical company and the yellow signs alerted me to something going amiss.
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Kim thank you for your feedback, which helps encourage and teach at the same time. Glad you enjoyed it.
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What a creepy story you conjured up for Halloween Lisa! An old disused chemical plant certainly would have many a ghost with stories of revenge. Loved it 🙂💕
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Thank you much, Christine, glad you enjoyed it.
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Great story, Lisa.
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Thank you, Astrid 🙂
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A sad portrayal of the barrenness of man-made pestilence
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Thank you, Beverly. I wish humans could get a do-over….
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The use of chemical wasteland and desecrated bones works very well to to flesh out the prompt! I found Gluck’s line difficult to work with. Here you make me think of barrenness as the harvest of pestilence – which hadn’t occurred to me till now. There’s something about that combination of ordinary life combined with the unexpectedly horrific that is particularly spooky.
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Thank you, Christine.
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Oh–well done! I was reading along thinking it was just a tale of a bike ride–then boom! Like Kim said, this could be a tale told around a campfire.
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Thanks so much, Merril 🙂
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You’re welcome!
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