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, March 27, 2013

Felicity - Part 4 - by Lillian Morpork

Peter shook his shoulders and took a deep breath. He would learn to use this marvelous machine, and go back and find Hannah. Could he bring back more humans? Set up a village for them here on this side of the river, away from the villages of the cats? But how would the cats feel, after being virtual owners for so many centuries? Better go and have a long talk with the three old Robots, Robosam, Esau and Ebenezer about the idea.

Weeks later, Peter stood on the front lawn, small silver time machine in hand, and looked around at his companions. The three old robots eyes glowed in happiness, Robosam, Esau and Ebenezer all smiled. He was off to find Hannah, his long lost love, and then he would find other people to bring forward. It had been agreed that this side of the river would be manor grounds, and eventually a thriving human settlement.

“Go, Peter, and find your lady. Bring her back, and bring other humans, too. We have sadly missed having humans around; we have been lonely for them.” Levi said. “While you are gone, we will start building the town you envisioned. Be well, and come back safely.”

Each one shook his hand and stepped back. Peter smiled, touched the stud, and was gone.


50 years later

Peter and Hannah strolled along the main street of Petersville greeting everyone they met. It had started as a village of 500, in the year 4150. There were now, two hundred years later, 10,000 living there. Peter had brought in the original 500, and then over the years, had traveled around and brought in 1,000 more. From that start it had grown as babies were born, and more humans had drifted in, seeking a safe place to put down roots. Peter, now in his late eighties, was happy. The settlement was clean, well-kept and peaceful.

The cats and humans got on well, and the rats stayed on the far side of the river, away from the humans. Most of the humans had a hard time accepting them as harmless wanderers, so the cats kept them in line. Many of the pups born to the dogs had been adopted into human families, and they and the children frolicked and got into trouble together.

Peter died at the age of 130, and Hannah only one year after him, at age 128.
The old robots built a mausoleum where the bodies were laid to rest. The Time machine was placed in the coffin with Peter, as he requested. He was worried that it could fall into the hands of some unscrupulous person, who would take advantage of those humans who had managed to create other communities, and bring them into the horrors of slavery. The communities continued to thrive and grow, cats and humans living in harmony with each other and nature.

4300 – The Sesquicentennial of Petersville

“Daddy,” six year old Asaph asked. “Why is that building there, since no one lives in it?”

“Yes, Daddy, why?” echoed his twin Asherah.

“It isn’t a house for the living, kits, it is a house for the dead. Mr. Peter Charles MacDonald is laid to rest there, in honour of all he did for all of us Cats, and the Rats and Humans, too. His wife Hannah Elizabeth Campbell lies there with him. He was of the family that owned all this land thousands of years ago. His ancestor left the old robots to take care of us when we were still learning to talk, and when the terrible war between the humans of that time spread, the robots put us into a special kind of sleep.

“Hundreds of years later, they woke us again, and continued to teach us, and the rats, and the dogs, as much as they could learn. They helped us learn to grow our own food, taught us to read and write, and created the Robos for us, to be our hands.

“Hundreds of years after that, Mr. Peter came back to us, and he traveled and found his lady love, and then other humans to live here. It is 150 years since he started our town, so today we remember and honour him with prayers, and with a big festival. In doing this we are also honouring his ancestor, who first started everything.” He smiled down at the twins. “Now, shall we go and start the fun part of this special day?” Two big smiles answered him, as the twins whooped and ran off toward the fairgrounds.

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