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 16, 2014

Vespa Ride - Part 3 - by lillian Morpork

With a shriek of anger that sounded almost like desperation, Morigan grew bigger and stronger. She got her hands around his throat and dug her fingers in. He was soon struggling to breathe, grabbing at her fingers, trying to loosen them. Things started to go dark, when again there was a rush of warmth and he could breathe. He let his body go limp, as if he were dying, and sagged toward the ground. Morigan laughed triumphantly, and then, arm drawn back to the limit, fist clenched, he swung the arm up and hit her jaw. Her hands relaxed and she slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Slowly, he straightened up, bent a bit, hands on knees, while he caught his breath. At last he was able to turn to Airmid. “Thank you, you saved my life. I could not have lasted the first attack, never mind the rest.” He turned again and looked at Morigan, lying limp and still on the ground. “Is she dead?” he asked, troubled at the thought of killing a woman.

“No, it would take much more than that to kill her. Look!” He looked, and saw a mist growing around the body, dark, streaked with black, getting thicker and thicker. Then it disappeared and Morigan was gone. She is alive, and not badly hurt. She had been taken back to our world, and will not be allowed to come back into this world for three hundred of your years. Now I can start to help you with your problems.” Airmid smiled, and he began to feel that things would get better.

“First,” Airmid said, “this problem of your workload. Both projects are actually one, though I doubt that even your ‘boss’ realises it. The explosion at the storage facility was placed there by one Adam Kane, who belongs to a very secret group called “The First Men”. They have the mistaken idea that certain people are of the original race of humans and it has been polluted by aliens. Their aim is to ‘clean the gene pool’ by killing by various means all whom they deem to have polluted genes. So they go after not one race or colour, but anyone from any group they have decided are not fully human. Their choices are in no way logical, so the explosion does not seem to be connected to the murders you are investigating.

“Look into this Adam Kane - not his real name, deliberately picked to hark back to
the book of genesis in your bible. His real name is Charles Martin. That is all I can tell you, but I’m sure you can take it from there and clear both cases up within the next few days.

“As for your name, why does it bother you so? All of those men were brave, and as far as I have been able to discover, good people, who did pretty wonderful things. Your Country was built on the work of them, and others like them. Think – what would Canada be like if arrogant, selfish men had had the forming of it? Do you think you would have the freedom, the good life you have now, with that type ruling when it was becoming a nation?”

Lexi stared at her, taking in all she said. With the information about Adam Kane, his cases were virtually solved. In a few days he’s be able to spend more time with
Bethany, and perhaps get her to see the impossibility of what she wanted for their honeymoon. And she was right about his name, too. What really was wrong with it? Alexander James David George – they were all ordinary enough names, and being called Lexi because his dad was Alex was a big bonus. He could have been Junior, for goodness sake! No, he had been really silly to be so upset by his name. He looked back at Airmid.
“Thank you. Thank you so much, you have given me information to close both cases, helped me see how foolish I’ve been to resent my name, and even, perhaps, made it possible for me to convince Bethany how impossible her ideas for our honeymoon are. But, why did you come? And why was Morigan so intent on taking me over?”

“You are a special human, Lexi, and we of the Otherworld have been watching you since you were born. You have a great future ahead, and through me, we will be part of it, aiding and directing you. You will be remembered through future history as a great man, and one who makes Canada an even greater country.”

She smiled and touched his hand. Once again, he felt the warmth, the serenity, fill him. “Whenever you feel this,” Airmid said, “You will know that I am with you. And now I must go. Go now, with confidence that you are not alone. Help is just a thought away. Goodbye for now, Lexi.”

The mist formed slowly around her, glowing ever brighter until he could no longer see her, just the bright, pearly glow. When it faded, she was gone.

Sighing, he turned and retraced his path back the logging road. Once there, he sat again for a little while, to gather his thoughts and take in all that he had learned. Finally, he took a drink of water, donned his helmet, and headed out, riding toward home as the sun sank behind him.

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