By the end of it you're a coward. You arm yourself with guns and swords and whatever else may protect you and you stand, feet apart, waiting.
Upon hearing the numerous war cries and horns you charge headlong into confusion. Everyone makes a mess and all the colours get mixed up. You get hit or stabbed or shot and dizzyingly fall to the side like an archer's broken arrow. You see your own blood staining your shirt and decide to give up. You wait patiently for death while lying on the sidelines, when you can perfectly well remain in combat and get finished off sooner without the wait.
At the first sign of pain you forget that that's the one reason you're standing in that damp muddy field with sweat and blood pouring out of you. It wasn't that they didn't warn you. You aren't to be blamed either. Effulgent fantasies cry a gloriously brave, victorious death.
just come across ur blog.
ReplyDeletewell writers usually do it.and good writers like u do it better.
nice blog.
just come across ur blog.
ReplyDeletewell writers usually do it.and good writers like u do it better.
nice blog.
You are as beautiful as your writing.
ReplyDeleteAs a Hurston admirer, you might enjoy looking at Youtube for the book video trailer found by Searching "Zora Hurston" and clicking on the thumbnail of the bronze-skinned woman with the white man's hand reaching into her blouse. The book (reviewed by Booklist and Midwest Book Review) is Zora Hurston And The Strange Case Of Ruby McCollum (reviews posted on Amazon site).
Enjoy, and continue your writing.
Art