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, April 10, 2013

Dream – Part 1– by Sven Pertelson

I am sure you all have had dreams where the house you live in or some other familiar place has undergone some subtle change. A new door or window where there was never one before, even a staircase to a floor you had not noticed before. Sometimes the same dream comes again and again. so much so that in the morning you have to go and check that it was a dream.

My home gained a new window. Between the china cabinet and the sideboard I noticed a new french-window leading onto a garden that could not possibly be there. All I should have been be able to see would be the wall of the next door house. But no, stretching into the distance was a well manicured lawn, flower beds and the occasional tree. Perhaps I am timid in my dreams. Night after night the same window in the same place, but I never ventured to open the door and walk out into the garden. I would stare through the window and gaze at the landscape beyond. There was never anyone else out there, no birds, no animals, just blue skies and puffy clouds lazily moving above the swaying trees.

Each morning on my way to the kitchen to make breakfast I would find my self looking at the blank wall where the window was in my dreams. I would shake my head and go into the kitchen where I could see my real garden, small and boring with the sky blocked from view by the house behind mine.

Then one morning ... the window was there! I stood and stared. Was I still asleep? How could I tell? Pinch myself? I turned and stood in front of the door and almost involuntarily my hand reached for the handle of the glazed door. The scene ourside was so inviting. I just had to explore. Summoning up my courage I grasped the handle, turned it and pulled. A scent of grass and flowers enveloped me and I stepped through onto the grass beyond. The grass tickled my bare feet and the breeze struck a little chilly though my dressing gown. Behind me I heard the door close and turned to look. No house! No buildings! Just grass and flower beds and trees as far as I could see.

Suddenly the park like landscape did not look as welcoming as a few moments before. The sky was strange. True the sky was blue and the clouds did not look threatening but there was no sun, even though there were shadows under the trees. I moved towards the nearest flower bed to take a closer look. Paper flowers on wooden stems, the trees were fake too. Just flat boards with paper leaves. The trees were arranged to look right from the position of the door. Even the grass was not real. The grass leaves were all the same anchored into a rubbery base. I had been lured into a sham garden and no had no way of returning home.

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