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

Thursday, November 3, 2011

The Mushroom Forest by Shari Azarov

The Mushroom Forest by Shari Azarov

Eyelashes flutter. Waking to the morning dew covering my body. Chills down my spine. Where am i? What happened?

Standing, I lightly rub off the morning moisture from my chilled body in hopes the sun will shine thru the dark murky forest and warm my skin. I look around. No one appears to be near. No village homes. No smoke from the chimneys, no traders pulling out their daily wares. Where can I be?

What is the last thing I remember? I was in the field full of beautiful wild flowers, now here. How? Why?

I’m getting nervous now. I feel myself begin to tremble from unknown anxiety. What has happened, I went from sunshine and wildflowers to a dark and murky forest of giant mushrooms. Are these homes to some kind of creature?

Carefully, with much trepidation, I step closer to one of the largest mushrooms I see. No door appears, no noise, no humming from a morning kitchen. I touch it with an outstretched hand. Disgusting, it is slimy and the stench of the residue on my hands makes me want to wretch. I bend down looking for grass or leaves to wipe the residue off when suddenly I hear a noise. Was it a twig snapping? A footstep? "Whose there?" I yell out. No answer. My body now trembling with fear looks around for an exit. A way out. Which way do I go? Where did the noise come from? Will I run right into it?

I start making my way thru the mushrooms. Hearing the noise again I pick up my pace. The further I go the closer it sounds. I turn around and head in the opposite direction. The noise still sounding quite near. Oh my God, I’ve lost my sense of direction. Do I go left, right? I begin to panic and my mouth goes dry. I begin to run. Run faster and harder pushing my body to the limits. Is there no way out? Is there no escape from this terror? Mushroom after mushroom, no way to leave a trail behind me. Darkness and the smell of the stale air. Noises from all sides. I fall to my knees, tears streaming down my cheeks. I begin to pray, please God help me find the way out. Terrified, I stand back up and begin to run again, I run, and run, and run…….

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