Echoing the Past: The Spirit of Place – Lets Go Retro!

Over at Blue Butterflies and Me, Sindy is hosting the Lets Go Retro Challenge Challenge, in honour of Mercury being in retrograde.  The challenge is to reblog / review / revisit blog posts of the past…

retro challenge

The original post I decided to use was a piece of very short fiction (in 50 words or less, in fact), entitled, Echoes of the Past

Footsteps echo on the ancient ground.  Snippets of conversation carried on the wind of time.  Shouting.  Screaming.  Laughter.  Crying.

Experience imprinted on the landscape.  Memories forever carved in stone.  Life and death remembered.

Stories waiting to be told…truths waiting to be heard…

The past is never silent.

woodsLooking back on this piece, I recall how I’ve always been aware of, and for that matter, been inspired by, the spirit of place.  The idea that everywhere you go, the past and the present mingle (to different degrees), to create what you now see and experience there.  That each and every environment you place yourself in is unique, forged by others who have come before, or who are there now.

It might be a romantic view but I believe it is interesting to think that wherever we go, whatever we do, we make our mark on that place.  Of wellcourse, this is in no small part helped by my over-active imagination.  I love to spend my free time exploring castles and abbeys and churches, both ruined and intact, and wonder in whose steps am I walking?  What was their life like?  What is their story?  Another love is visiting sites much older than these…sacred wells, Roman ruins, stone circles…These places are an invaluable source of inspiration for writers.

Some places evoke feelings of peace and tranquillity.  As I write, I am reminded of an ancient sacred well that I regularly visit.  The place radiates harmony, and in the stillness you can imagine others who have passed this way throughout the centuries.  Were they on a pilgrimage?  Were they hoping for a cure to a particular ailment they were suffering from?  Were they simply asking for a blessing of health, wealth and happiness?

church ruinsAt the other end of the scale, I have felt serious discomfort whilst exploring the dungeon of a twelfth century castle, and couldn’t wait to leave it.  The stories of those who found themselves imprisoned within, would not have been happy ones.  But how did they find themselves there?  Had they really done anything wrong?  Or did it have something to do with the Medieval merry-go-round of politics and power?

As a writer, but also for myself personally, the spirit of place is important.  To a certain extent, it doesn’t matter what the place makes me feel or think, as long as it makes me feel something.  And for as long as it does, it will help to feed my imagination and creativity.

The Face – a piece of flash fiction – Part 4

To read part one, click here. To read part two, click here.  To read part three, click here.


The Face

Finally, she broke her silence.  ‘I’m here to help you.  To warn you not to make the same mistakes as me.’

‘What mistakes?’

Have you not learnt anything from my time here?‘ she sighed.

I felt, bewildered, lost, confused.

Then she was gone.

And my life began to fall apart.


This piece of flash fiction was inspired by the writing prompt ‘Write a four part serial, each part following the ‘Fiction in Fifty’ format’.  For more information, visit this page

The Face – a piece of flash fiction – Part 3

To read part one, click here. To read part two, click here.


The Face

I would try to speak with her, to find out why she was here, why I felt an affinity between us.

However, she never uttered a word, and I came no closer to making any connections on my own.

Only now, I wanted to cry when I saw her.


This piece of flash fiction was inspired by the writing prompt ‘Write a four part serial, each part following the ‘Fiction in Fifty’ format’.  For more information, visit this page

The Face – a piece of flash fiction – Part 2

To read part one, click here.


The FaceThe sadness in the face was profound.  Hauntingly so.  I don’t know why she was so sad, but there was a familiarity about her story.

I wondered why she showed herself to me.

Why was I so special?

Did she think I could help her?

What could I do?


This piece of flash fiction was inspired by the writing prompt ‘Write a four part serial, each part following the ‘Fiction in Fifty’ format’.  For more information, visit this page

The Face – a piece of flash fiction – Part 1

 

The FaceWhen I closed my eyes I saw the same thing.  Over and over.

A face.

I didn’t know to whom it belonged, but it looked so sad.

It was a woman, I think.  The detail wasn’t great, except for the eyes.  Through them I could see into her soul.


This piece of flash fiction was inspired by the writing prompt ‘Write a four part serial, each part following the ‘Fiction in Fifty’ format’.  For more information, visit this page