pegasus62
New member
Hey, everyone! I've decided to take a leap and see what you think of my writing. I normally don't write in the 21st Century (I'm more of an historic writer), but here's my attempt! Hope you like it; please post your comments! (Or criticisms.) Here's the first installment:
For many days, a dark shadow had fallen across the City. Long, long ago, it had once been a fair Place to live in, a Place of soft meadows and golden sun, and the pale, high call of a mourning dove in the branches of the oaks. Then a man----a man who everyone in the City had now forgotten----came to the Place and desecrated it. He tore down the lovely trees and he burned all the brush, calling it his own. Because of the new noise of the bulldozers and cranes, the mourning doves flew away. The insects stopped humming. Even the little ponds, with their streamlets flowing forth and dancing in the moonlight, dried up.
The Place disappeared.
People---relatives of the man who had claimed what was not his---came to visit him, and they found all of his housing developments very pleasant, so they settled in. The Place was renamed the Village, and the people elected a government, with a portly, supposedly wise mayor, representatives, and judges. Where a pretty, peaceful glen once resided, a jail was put up. Where a meadow had once lain, stretched out and gleaming in the starlight and housing rabbits and deer, a courthouse sprang to being. There were still pockets of beauty left over, like traces from a sad song that has died---but the people did not like the bits of good that remained. Their eyes were more used to the shine of metallic than the glitter of sun on a pebble. So they tore more trees down and built more houses.
In very little time, the quaint Village which had sheltered the people was being revised, modernized. Others came, people with different ideas than the first settlers, men, women and children that bore the mark of the coming century. They scoffed at the Village and began expanding it; and soon, the Village disappeared as well. In its place was the Town.
The Town was bigger, brighter, more metropolitan than the Village. It boasted taller buildings and replaced the jail with a prison ten times bigger. The people knocked down more trees, got rid of backyards, and invited a posse of their friends and family---city people---to join them. There were doctors, lawyers, governors, and law enforcement. Finally, to expand the Town's attraction to visitors, they made roads to help cars drive down the streets instead of on rutted ground. Although they didn't realize it, the more things they gained, the less they remembered the Place or the man who had started the Village. The children grew up in the Town and forgot the feel of sunshine, for it began to rain, everyday, all night; and those same children became discontent with the 'simplicity' of the Town.
The adults now began to invent new ideas of civilization and excitement. They constructed skyscrapers that blocked out the rain and the gray sky. They made the roads wider and the cars fancier, the men stronger by their medicine and the women more beautiful. Lastly, to make only the glow of chrome visible, they chopped down the final oak to a splintered stump.
The City had been born.
The Place was gone---the Village, the Town----everywhere only people walked, only buildings stood, stark and heavily windowed, against the denim wash of the sky. People hurried past with black coats and black umbrellas and shiny black business shoes. They did not remember color, or the scent of the wind. The only thing that replayed in their mind was getting to work, working...and coming home to a television set that showed the rest of the cosmopolitan world.
For many days, a dark shadow had fallen across the City. Long, long ago, it had once been a fair Place to live in, a Place of soft meadows and golden sun, and the pale, high call of a mourning dove in the branches of the oaks. Then a man----a man who everyone in the City had now forgotten----came to the Place and desecrated it. He tore down the lovely trees and he burned all the brush, calling it his own. Because of the new noise of the bulldozers and cranes, the mourning doves flew away. The insects stopped humming. Even the little ponds, with their streamlets flowing forth and dancing in the moonlight, dried up.
The Place disappeared.
People---relatives of the man who had claimed what was not his---came to visit him, and they found all of his housing developments very pleasant, so they settled in. The Place was renamed the Village, and the people elected a government, with a portly, supposedly wise mayor, representatives, and judges. Where a pretty, peaceful glen once resided, a jail was put up. Where a meadow had once lain, stretched out and gleaming in the starlight and housing rabbits and deer, a courthouse sprang to being. There were still pockets of beauty left over, like traces from a sad song that has died---but the people did not like the bits of good that remained. Their eyes were more used to the shine of metallic than the glitter of sun on a pebble. So they tore more trees down and built more houses.
In very little time, the quaint Village which had sheltered the people was being revised, modernized. Others came, people with different ideas than the first settlers, men, women and children that bore the mark of the coming century. They scoffed at the Village and began expanding it; and soon, the Village disappeared as well. In its place was the Town.
The Town was bigger, brighter, more metropolitan than the Village. It boasted taller buildings and replaced the jail with a prison ten times bigger. The people knocked down more trees, got rid of backyards, and invited a posse of their friends and family---city people---to join them. There were doctors, lawyers, governors, and law enforcement. Finally, to expand the Town's attraction to visitors, they made roads to help cars drive down the streets instead of on rutted ground. Although they didn't realize it, the more things they gained, the less they remembered the Place or the man who had started the Village. The children grew up in the Town and forgot the feel of sunshine, for it began to rain, everyday, all night; and those same children became discontent with the 'simplicity' of the Town.
The adults now began to invent new ideas of civilization and excitement. They constructed skyscrapers that blocked out the rain and the gray sky. They made the roads wider and the cars fancier, the men stronger by their medicine and the women more beautiful. Lastly, to make only the glow of chrome visible, they chopped down the final oak to a splintered stump.
The City had been born.
The Place was gone---the Village, the Town----everywhere only people walked, only buildings stood, stark and heavily windowed, against the denim wash of the sky. People hurried past with black coats and black umbrellas and shiny black business shoes. They did not remember color, or the scent of the wind. The only thing that replayed in their mind was getting to work, working...and coming home to a television set that showed the rest of the cosmopolitan world.
**
