What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information

Sunday, August 22, 2010

The Night Ed Died - by lillian Morpork

“Did I ever tell ya” the old geezer said
As he ran his hand ‘cross his round bald head,
“Of that turrible night in Morgan’s Town
When Big Bart Barker shot Ed Stanley down?
‘Twur an awful sight!

“Things was usul in Morgan’s Saloon,
Jeb at the pianer played a lonesome tune,
And LiliLou, in a fancy red gown
Was drinkin’ with Clancy, who was feelin’ down.
Jist a reg’lar night.

“When the swingin’ door opened and who walked in
But Big Bart Barker, steeped in sin.
He looked around, and loudly said
‘Where’s my money?’ and he looked at ED.
Ed froze in fright.

“Then he stuttered and stammered, with shakin’ knees,
‘I only got half, I need time, Bart, please!’
Big Bart scowled and took a stride,
He glared at Ed, feet spread wide
‘Ya had till tonight!’

He reached to put his hand on his gun,
He glared around at everyone,
No one moved, we was all too scared,
So we all just sat around and stared
Like rabbits caught in a light.

“Then Big Ben slowly drew his gun,
Ed looked around for a place to run.
Ben raised his arm and took his aim
And shot, sayin’ ‘now I stake my claim!’
And Ed fell, a sad goodnight.

Bart looked ‘round the room and sneered,
Waved his gun, looked at Lili, leered,
Then backed outside and rode away.
Lili ran to Ed, then started to sway,
I caught and held her tight.

Lili and I soon left that town,
Found us a preacher, settled down,
Raised some kids, had a great life.
Lili was a perfect Ma, and wife.
But I’ll never fergit that night!”

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