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 14, 2011

A Stillicide of Tears by Zhu Juran

A Stillicide of Tears by Zhu Juran

stillicide /ˈstɪlɪsʌɪd/
Water falling in drops, especially in a row from the eaves of a roof.

Her money worries were over! ZOLAshes was now an official brand, and if she invested carefully, Zola wouldn’t have to be concerned about her financial future. She was smart (and lucky!) to have signed the deal with CyberGrrl Cosmetics when she did, for her very own line of eyelash care products. (Another few months and Zola was certain that the increasing sparseness of her eyelashes would have nixed any deal she was trying to make.)

Now she could sit back and manage her business from her home. No more onsite photoshoots, no more autographs to sign, no more long hours under hot lights, no more worrying how she looked when she left the house....she sighed. Her world was going to contract just a bit.

This would, however, give her time to continue the search for her friend. She’d felt so guilty this past week, spending all her time inking out the details of the ZOLAshes contract, guilty that she hadn’t been able to put any energy into solving the puzzle of her friend’s disappearance. If she was honest with herself though, there was another reason - she was angry! Her friend had left (by now Zola was sure of this), and had left without a word. Hurt and angry, that’s what she was. Yes, at one point, Zola had wanted more from the relationship than her friend had been willing to give, but they’d worked through it - they were like sisters! Or so she had thought. As her eyes welled up again, Zola considered that maybe she was wrong, that something bad really had happened; the tears spilled over.

He sat on the pier thinking. He’d told her he needed to clean out his inventory, but really he just needed some time to himself, to sort things out, things that had nothing to do with his inventory.

Last week, when she’d been so upset about her alt being logged in, it hadn’t dawned on him, right then, that HE hadn’t seen her alt log in. It had been an issue with him, at the beginning of their relationship, that she had so many alts. Trust came slowly to him - he’d been cheated on before, and wasn’t anxious to repeat the experience. Slowly she had won him over, never giving him any cause for doubt, until he’d actually asked her to marry him!

But how could he marry her now? She’d sworn that he knew all her alts, she’d had them all friend him, so he could see she had nothing to hide. And now this. He thought about ending it with her, and was surprised to feel the tears running down his cheeks; he brushed them away angrily. Real or virtual, this love, he didn’t even know, but he DID know two things: he couldn’t live with her anymore, and he couldn’t live without her.

Camming him discreetly, she was surprised to see tears running down his cheeks. Well he wasn’t sorting inventory, that was for sure. He’d been acting a little odd for a week now, but denying it, and she was getting very concerned. He was such an upbeat person, always seeing things in a positive light, refusing to believe ill of anyone - why was he crying? Her heart hurt to see him like this - she wanted to go comfort him but the ESP between them, that they always joked about, was telling her to leave him be for now. She wiped her eyes (sympathetic tears?) and went to check on her horses.

Zola sat up suddenly, rubbing her eyes awake. The dream surrounded her like a bubble, and like a bubble it left with a pop. Unlike most dreams though, she remembered all of it, and she now felt certain that her friend was alive and safe. The sensation of reassurance allowed her to discard her hurt and anger. Time to turn the page, she thought with a smile, and start the next chapter.

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