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

Saturday, February 11, 2012

"The Dance of Death" PART 3 by Llola Lane

"The Dance of Death" PART 3 by Llola Lane

Have I escaped death?
or am I just asleep?
I still see myself dancing
I can't stop
Is death still waiting for me?

The hand that touched my shoulder turns to bone
It was a trick!
I am NOT home
my heart races faster
I AM still dancing.

Death taunts me
it knows my weaknesses
it can read my mind
it knows I want to live
Oh HOW shall I escape death?

The walls around me are thick
I can see no door
I can't get out
The corpses surround me
They block my view.

My head looks up
I focus on the lights above me
They sway with the music
They shine from one spot
Is it the way out???

I climb to the light
but I just grasp air
It is thick and chokes me with smoke
maybe this is hell!

If this IS hell...
I want out!
Death sees me drifting closer
Is death in HELL?

I see no fire
I see no flames
I feel no heat
This can't be hell
I AM a good person.

Death comes closer now
but Death looks different
Death is not black and dark
Death is now white and glowing
Death is an Angel?

I am no longer scared
Death is calling my name
I walk to death willingly as if in a trance
Death smiles at me
Death holds outs out a hand

I take it!

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