Remember to Read the Rules First...
...before blowing 45 minutes of work time on something.
Anyway, this was supposed to be entered on a " first line contest" I found by linkbrowsing to stillnotbored:
At midnight on her ninth birthday, Alison Marie was crowned Queen of the Nightlands. The elderly hierophant who set the small iron diadem on her brow was a musty-smelling man draped in tattered black cloth that looked as if it would have been better suited to containing cheap, russet potatoes than his skinny bones, hairy arms, and dry flesh. She had never seen any King of the Nightlands, whom she had to assume would be her husband if he ever bothered to show up. Maybe there was a similarly bewildered boy somewhere else in the great, abyssal Cathedral of the Nightlands. Maybe they would crown him later. Certainly none of the tiny, wispy, susurrant subjects crowded into the pews were saying anything to her about such matters. The little girl folded her hands on her lap and sniffled as the hierophant brushed the petals of a sapphire-colored nightbloom across her eyelids. As she blinked the powdery pollen from her eyes, Alison Marie firmly decided that this was both the most boring and most ridiculous dream she had ever had. After all, anyone at who knew her even a little bit knew she was going to grow up to be a firefighter.
But it turns out the deadline was yesterday. Eh. Well. Making some words is better than not making words.
Back to work.
-12th.
Anyway, this was supposed to be entered on a " first line contest" I found by linkbrowsing to stillnotbored:
At midnight on her ninth birthday, Alison Marie was crowned Queen of the Nightlands. The elderly hierophant who set the small iron diadem on her brow was a musty-smelling man draped in tattered black cloth that looked as if it would have been better suited to containing cheap, russet potatoes than his skinny bones, hairy arms, and dry flesh. She had never seen any King of the Nightlands, whom she had to assume would be her husband if he ever bothered to show up. Maybe there was a similarly bewildered boy somewhere else in the great, abyssal Cathedral of the Nightlands. Maybe they would crown him later. Certainly none of the tiny, wispy, susurrant subjects crowded into the pews were saying anything to her about such matters. The little girl folded her hands on her lap and sniffled as the hierophant brushed the petals of a sapphire-colored nightbloom across her eyelids. As she blinked the powdery pollen from her eyes, Alison Marie firmly decided that this was both the most boring and most ridiculous dream she had ever had. After all, anyone at who knew her even a little bit knew she was going to grow up to be a firefighter.
But it turns out the deadline was yesterday. Eh. Well. Making some words is better than not making words.
Back to work.
-12th.