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

Wednesday, September 22, 2010


As I stood in line waiting my turn I looked at the people waiting with me. An elderly gentleman held the hand of who I am sure was his wife in front of me. I wonder if they will survive the trip. Elderly people were told to stay in their homes because they may not survive the long journey. These two must really be willing to gamble their lives literally away. My attention turned to a mother with a small toddler. Surely the child was too small. He didn't even come to my waist. What was the height restriction I wondered? Behind me a dog barked. Animals WERE allowed. So far all animals had survived the trip.

The line moved and I took two steps forward. This was taking a long time. I hope they had time to send everyone. The line was getting pretty long behind me. I put down my small suitcase. We were allowed only one. I'm sure I packed everything I needed for the trip. Once there…very rarely was anyone allowed back. It was getting hotter.

All these people waiting, I was surprised everyone was so calm and quiet. We looked like cattle being herded off to the slaughter. I had heard rumors of where I was going. Some called it a primitive place, whilst others called it a paradise. It was spacious and everyone had room to move. We had been sending people for who knows how long? I was just happy to be allowed to go.

I was getting closer to the front now. I could see peoples’ tickets being stamped and then walking through the gate and then around the corner. The elderly man and woman are next. I watch as his feeble hands hand the operator one ticket. He kissed the elderly woman tenderly on the mouth. I could see the red pill in his hand. The ticket is stamped and the woman is pushed through the gate by the old man. She reluctantly walks around the corner out of sight. He puts the pill in his mouth and walks past me. I’ve heard of couples being separated. It just wasn’t fair. But some people were to sick or already dying, to make the trip. I’m sure the pill he took would be his last.

There is a little argument in front of me now. It’s the mother with the small child. She is arguing that the child IS tall enough. The clerk argues back no he isn’t but then stamps her tickets and lets her pass. I move up a few more steps. Almost my turn. My heart is starting to race. I need to calm down. Millions of people have taken this trip before. It was deemed a safe way to travel.

I hand the clerk my ticket. The clerk looks at me. Asks me… “Have you read all the rules and are you in compliance?” I nod yes and he stamps my ticket. I move past the gate. This is it. It is my turn now. I walk around the corner. There is a young lady sitting at a desk and the portpad is right in front of me. “Please take your seat” she says. “Put your bag under the chair and keep your hands inside the vehicle for the complete trip. You will be briefed about your destination as you head down. Any questions?” I nod no and take my seat. A bubble covers the whole portpad.

I take a deep breath and feel a slight tingling. Before I know it I am heading down. Images flash around me… I have heard of your life flashing before you as you die… Was I dying??? No these were unfamiliar images… Trees… Animals… People… and signs… EARTH IS WAITING… EARTH IS WAITING FOR YOU! As I make my way down on the lightning bolt I can see other bolts along side of me. Some have people looking around… and others have people with their eyes closed tight. I giggle. I have MY eyes WIDE open!

In a FLASH I am down on the ground. “PLEASE EXIT THE VEHICLE!” The bubble disappears and I pick up my bag and stand. As I walk off the portpad it turns to sand. I am alone in the vast desert but I know what to do. It feels good to be alone and have some space. No on knows when our planet will end, but everyone is sure that our race will live on as long as… EARTH IS WAITING!

No comments:

Post a Comment