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 6, 2013

"Time Enough at Last" PART 1 by Llola Lane

"Time Enough at Last" PART 1 by Llola Lane

I love to read. Reading is my passion. I read morning, noon, and night. I can't get enough reading. With the internet it is so easy. I just search for something and I can read it on my e-book reader.

I've even taken my reader to work. I am a teller at a bank. I hide my reader under my work station and grab time to read whenever it's not busy. I have to be very careful my boss doesn't see me reading or I may get fired.

One day a customer came in and I was the only teller working. Everyone was at lunch. "The customers are all yours," my boss stated before he went to eat his lunch in the back room. "I'll be watching you... Don't mess up... and PAY ATTENTION!!!" As soon as he left the room, I grabbed my reader and started reading David Copperfield. It's a wonderful story. I didn't see the customer until I heard him tap at my window. Darn... he made me lose my place. I was thinking about David Copperfield and counted the customers change. He got mad because I short changed him.

"I'm sorry sir.... Here is your correct money," I said... But it was too late. My boss heard everything from the back room. "You've been reading again!!!" he yelled at me. "I have a good mind to fire you."

"Noooo, sir please don't. I will not read anymore at work. I promise," I cried. And he gave me one more chance. I really must make sure he doesn't catch me reading. I push up my thick glasses and wait on the next customer. The clock ticks the hours away. I can see it is almost time to go home. I can finish my story when I get home.

The ride home on the bus is loud. Someone bumps me as I read my David Copperfield, making me lose my place in the story and my thick glasses. I grab them just as someone is about ready to step on them. I let out a grumble and give them a dirty look. They snuff at me and look the other way. I put on my glasses and tune out the loud noises and enjoy another chapter in my story before I notice that I have missed my stop. Grrrrrrr... That will take extra time from my reading now. I have to walk the rest of the way home. Hummm.... Can I read as I walk? I fumble with my reader. Nope... Now I am really frustrated. I'm in the middle of the story. I want to know what happens to David.

I make it home in record time and smell wonderful food coming from the apartment. My wife is making dinner. She better not see me reading or I will never hear the end of it. She yells at me if I read too much. I stash my reader in my pocket. David will have to wait for now.

Dinner conversation is pleasant enough... til my wife sees my reader in my pocket. There she goes again... Yelling at me for taking it to work. I explain about David Copperfield but she doesn't understand. I don't tell her about my boss and "the incident." Then... Her voice changes. She has a smile on her face. She asks me to read her some poetry. I am elated!!! She goes to the library shelf and finds a bound book of poetry. My favorite book... I'd forgotten about real books. Since I have my reader I've not touched a bound book in years.

This is so romantic. I will read her poetry and maybe then I will get a kiss. She hands me the book as I clean my thick glasses. I can't see without them. Opening the book my hands are shaking. My voice is unsure. She is sitting on the couch next to me watching my every move... and... Smiling. I have not seen her smile in a long time. The book is of poems by Edgar Allan Poe. Strange she wants me to read THESE poems, but she knows it's my favorite book. I have read it many times. I know the poems by heart. Which one shall I read? She urges me to open the book and start reading.

My heart stops!!! I can see the damage before I even pick a poem. Black lines of marker across every page of the book! She mocks me. She is laughing at me as despair crosses my face. "That will teach you to read at work," she says. She has ruined my favorite book! She gets up from the couch and goes to wash the dishes. I am left sitting on the couch alone with my book. "It's ok... I know the poems by heart," I tell myself as I get up and put the book back on the shelf.

I slept that night... on the couch. "I still have my reader... I can finish David Copperfield tomorrow," I think as I fall off to sleep.

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