In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes*; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?



Magical Portals and Whatnot (Microfiction #2)

Hey guys, I entered a 6-week writing contest! Week one is over, so I'm sharing my stories here. This one got honorable mention. Check out this link to see how it works, or to enter or vote. Stay tuned for more!

Tea for Two

In one hot, dirty city, high in an undistinguished office-building, Chester Wentworth poured himself a cup of tea. He would have preferred a comfortable armchair in some cooler apartments, but that couldn’t be helped. It was this short break and an office cup, or nothing.

As he took his first drink, however, he found himself inexplicable and decidedly, elsewhere. All around him rose great trees, half-wreathed in fading foliage, their remaining leaves strewn thickly over the forest floor. The unmistakable scent of leafy decay and autumn rain whisked around him damply in chilly breezes.

Chester was breathing it all in, only slightly bewildered and very much pleased, when another figure appeared beside him. She was wearing shorts and a sun-hat as if she’d been gardening, and she looked decidedly startled.

“Hullo Sylvia,” Chester said.

“Chester!” she answered. They were cousins, and as children they had spent a great deal of time together, adventuring out-of-doors. “Where are we?” she asked in surprise.

“Don’t know. What were you up to just now?”

“I’d stopped for a cup of tea.”

“Hmm. So had I, actually. Fig-thistle-tea, or some such. From the back of the cupboard.”

“Same as me!” Sylvia declared.

“That’s a thought.” Chester mused. “Well, shall we have a walk, then?”

“Yes, lets. I’m quite chilled.” she agreed.

So the two tramped through the trees where the air hung rich and spicy, and before long they reached the edge of the wood. They strolled through golden grasses then, and over a few brown hills. Geese called. Here and there a tree would shower leaves on them. The wind stirred.

“Look there!” Chester pointed. “A deer!”

“Where?” Sylvia asked, “Oh, I missed it! What was it like?”

Chester smiled to himself. “He was white.” And said no more.

“Does this place seem to be fading to you?” Sylvia asked presently.

“Let’s try to come back again.” Chester said, in answer. “Same time, next week?”


Anonymous said...

Excellent! I rather like gentle, friendly stories. The idea of tea being a method of transportation is unexpected, but feels right (at least to those of us with an appreciation for tea). The characters also seem believably English; after all, what could be a more English response to finding oneself transported magically to a beautiful wood, than taking one's recreational walk then and there? Wish I'd gotten to read this during Week 1's voting so I could have voted for it.

Olivia said...

Thank you!