They stare up with their naked faces and observe the long-haired, round-faced young woman, her hands shaking with nerves, shuffling through pages, squinting through the bright stage lights and sweating under their heat. The expressionless faces waiting to be encouraged this way or that, a frown, a smile, a gasp, a giggle, a tear; just one will do; it will make the multitude that the young woman has poured over her paragraphs seem a little less useless. All they want is content. Coherent content that they can soak up and process, through those brains, between those ears, behind those eyes; that glare up with so much focus; gazing through the young woman’s naked soul.
A pair of lungs get cleared and the sound echoes and rumbles through the room, deafening for the young woman, inaudible to the audience.
She lowers her focus to the pages that she shuffles through her hands and she tries to think. She knows what she must do. She must deliver herself from this moment of stomach wrenching pause. She must transport the audience away from reality. She must bring them on the journey that she once traveled in a dream life. She must show them the butterfly effect that caused these organised smudges to form letters, that formed words, that now crawl from her mouth, and grow wings, and flutter through the air, and perch on each of the ears in the room.
For a moment, they smile; a momentary indication of delight at the sight of words that metamorphose. But this pretty exhibition of pixie magic is not enough to satisfy their demonic appetites as they grab the butterflies from above their ears shove them between their teeth and munch on them like dragons on horse bones, preferring to feed on the girl’s pain and labour than to gaze upon her creations with awe.
She returns from her pages to the polite applause of the audience, their facial expressions still unstirred, no smiles, no frowns, no tears; not one. She descends from the stage and returns to her seat amongst her demons.
It was the content. It was too sweet. She shouldn’t have sugar coated the butterflies. It’s a lesson learnt and another dagger through her heart. That doesn’t matter now. It’s her turn to throw the daggers.
This sounds like my biggest nightmare, standing up in front of everyone, but at least now it’s her turn to have a go at everyone else’s attempts. Nice imagery.
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Cheers mate!
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Very powerful imaginary, at the time original, fresh and tangible like your dragons crunching horse bones! Very refreshing indeed on a Monday morning!
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Thank you so much Peter! It’s appreciated.
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Hey hi! This is THE first fiction story I’ve read on WP and ever truly liked. BraVO. Can’t wait to explore more. 😉
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Thanks! That’s awesome. 😉
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This was awesome. 🙂 Thanks for stopping by my blog!
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No problem! Thanks 😉
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Ouch! Thanks for stopping by my blog.
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No problem! 😉
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Thank you for the follow. This is my first attempt at writing, well, anything, and it’s certainly been an interesting journal.
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No problem! Keep it going…
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I loved this. I have been that girl (well, her brother maybe) a number of times in my sordid past as an aspiring musician, and I have always wondered how the rockstars do it; be so cool up there.
Thanks for stopping by my ‘bogged down’ blog.
I look forward to reading more.
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Thanks man! I reckon the rockstars feel it too. They’re just better at hiding it.
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I enjoyed how you described the open mic from her perspective, in all its range of emotions. Having participated, as well as been in the audience, at open mics, I found resonance in your words. I am keen to read more of your fiction, and I like your humour, Del! 🙂 Thank you for visiting my blog.
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Thanks! 😉 And no problem.
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A very poignant and vivid episode, delnolan! I like the details you wove through it, giving me a strong sense for the girl and her emotional/mental state, and the atmosphere of the room, from her POV and from an authorial/objective POV. Nice job…
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Cheers Darrell! Much appreciated.
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Reblogged this on The Lightning Bug & the Lightning and commented:
A vivid episode in a young woman’s life, as written by a blog-buddy, del nolan. Enjoy…
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‘Don’t sugar coat the butterflies!’ Someone should make that into a t-shirt – loved the imagery 🙂 Thanks for stopping by my blog xx
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Thank you for the follow! 🙂 And I love your writing, so descriptive!
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No problem! 😉 Thanks.
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🙂
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Thanks for following me, You have really described beautifully as a really felt one in New Delhi when the anchor(She is New Reader in All India Radio)came to the open mic of India Gate. I love.
Now You worded it out.
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Reblogged this on mumof4boys1girl and commented:
Liked the sound of this ✌
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This is amazing. And thanks for checking out my blog. :’D
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Thanks! And no problem 😉
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That’s great!
Remind me to be somewhere else when the blades start flying.
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I’ll give you the heads up.
Thanks for reading. 😉
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You’re welcome. Good work.
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I’ve taken the liberty….
https://julianbeachwriting.wordpress.com/2015/06/01/creative-blogger-award/
Hope you don’t mind.
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Don’t mind at all!
Thank you so much…
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Reblogged this on kenyona "kc" copeland.
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I love your sense of style! Keep it up! And thanks for the follow, hopefully we can collaborate on something or you can be a guest on my blog?
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Thanks KC. And No problem. That sounds like a plan. I’ll get back to you on that in the not-so-distant future!
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Awesome! Thanks =)
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Honestly, you words took me by surprise. I could see and feel everything as if I were her. It might be because I could relate, you caused me to remember past experiences and I applaud you for that. People can so blind and consumed..
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Thanks! I guess all we can do is be more conscious of each other and hope that the love and respect spreads like a disease. 😉
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I agree with you on that 🙂
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You put me in her distress. Well done.
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Thanks!
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Ach! Been there..the T shirt stinks! (thanks for visiting the blog, btw).
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No problem! Can’t wait for the return journey…
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Her turn to throw the dagger. Great article. 🙂
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Thanks!
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This a great little piece of fiction. Really nice work, man 😀
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Cheers! Appreciated 🙂
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Ouch, dagger through the heart. Who hasn’t felt that? Thanks for scraping your mind to share this!
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Cheers Joanne! Thanks for reading 😉
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I love the way the right words in the right order can take me somewhere else. Thanks for that.
https://jotraveller.wordpress.com/2015/06/08/coming-up-from-within/
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“as they grab the butterflies from above their ears shove them between their teeth and munch on them like dragons on horse bones” – YES, love this line
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Merci beaucoup Madame! 😉
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De rien!
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Sounds like fun. I love being on stage.
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It’s a love/hate relationship for me.
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If your readers (and you) want help with mastering the butterflies, try to find a Toastmaster’s International group in your neighborhood. The ones I know are wonderful in their helpfulness. Thanks for your like on my “Target…”
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I may check that out! Thanks 😉
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Reblogged this on Creative Writing Course.
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And many more thanks!
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I liked this the first time i read it. I liked it even more this time.
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That’s cool! Thanks Ben 😉
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How terrifying! The emotion your writing provokes is astounding. Great post!
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Thanks Shell!
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I love your imagery! Great piece, well done
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Thanks! 😉
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