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, February 15, 2012

Inside and Deep Down by Relay Caedmon

Inside and Deep Down by Relay Caedmon

Slowly the darkness that surrounded her slowly vanished and she could see a small part of wood in front of her. Her eyes followed the cracks in the wood up to a corner, left the corner over to another corner on the opposite side. "Wait!!!" her blood almost froze when she realized that she was inside a coffin, "why why can i see its dark but i can still see!!"

She felt her panic feelings take over but when her fist hitted the side of the wood it gave after and left a mark, second hit almost went straight thru and some dust came in and made the air in the small world she was in hard to breath. She looked at her fist "no scar no blood it didnt even hurt." She felt with her other hand but took it away at the same time. "So damn cold, she looked at her hand again, and so so pale."

The left foot of hers tried to move to the side in her attempt to get more room to breath. "How can i see i am in a damn coffin!!" The air felt old and cold and she was suprised how fast she could move and she felt strong stronger than she ever felt before.
The fingers started to drag among the wood and left marks who went deeper for every time.
"Maybe i can get out of here!" She started to hit the wood more determined this time her fist got straight thru at the first attempt and the dusty soil slipped in but that only encouraged her to hit a new hole and another new hole again. Slowly she went upwards until her hand felt the rain on the ground.

Slowly she crawled up wet all over but to her suprise she didnt freeze, half her face was covered in wet mud but she didnt really cared, instead she looked at her pale hands and fingers. She felt herself in a cemetary, what am i doing here? How did i get here. while she sat beside a grave a beetle passed by and without reflect what she did she quicly took the bug and started to eat it. "Wait what am i doing??" She feltit was crispy and to her suprise she enjoyed it. "who am i what am i doing here!!" She tried to remember what she did before she woke up in the coffin but all she could see was darkness.

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