Good Evening everyone! Here is my writing exercise for the day, I am doing some an exercise today in describing a setting.
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Prompt: It’s twilight. There’s thick fog. You’re on a train. There’s a dream-like feel to the place.
Genre: Setting/Mystery
Source: Create A Setting
Time Spent: 40 minutes
Word Count: 948
Prompt: It’s twilight. There’s thick fog. You’re on a train. There’s a dream-like feel to the place.
I had tried to read, do some journaling, watch a video on my laptop, but couldn’t bring myself to focus on anything. Whether it was nervousness on the meeting I was on my way to, the rattling and occasional jolts of the train, and the growing discomfort of the seat. I put the tray with the rather disappointing dinner on one of the free seats of the four-seat compartment that was empty, other than myself.
The train, winding its way through around several mountains, was fairly empty that day. Only a few bored looking servers and a few dozen other passengers, other than a few couples all of them seemingly traveling for business and as sullen as I was.
As evening was setting in, I took something to try and help me sleep, and got as comfortable as I could, and tried to get some rest. As I looked out the window into a purple and orange twilight, I saw in the distance a fog bank approaching. As the train entered the thick fog, it bathed the train in a glow from the fading sunlight that was both magical and eerie.
I could feel my eyelids drooping from the sleep aid I had taken but what of me that was still awake was mesmerized by the look outside the window. It seemed like we went on for minutes, maybe even hours, without the light around the train changing or fading, and as the train turned around another corner the fog seemed to ease up, and through it I saw wonders.
High, glittering spires of castles twinkled in the fog. A small down, glowing almost yellow in the lamplight came next. Then a parade of people, carrying torches and lights of every color and descriptions seemed to be streaming toward a lake, which seemed to be the source of the fog. The fog clung to the surface of the lake, and was steadily steaming outward from it. The lake was a deep and rich blue, like water is often depicted in drawings but rarely looks like in real life, and fish, flashing a rainbow of colors from their scales, leapt and almost seemed to dance around the water. I turned to watch this gathering until it disappeared behind the train. The fog started to thicken again with the light this time fading into nightfall.
I was awakened by the train intercom a few hours before dawn announcing the next stop on its journey. It would be at least noon before we reached my destination, so I stayed put. I pulled out my laptop to research the area, but I could find no reference or indication that any such castles, lakes, or even towns were in that stretch of the mountains. I asked the staff of the train, and several other passengers, once more people were up and about, but only the fog was recalled.
I found myself oddly disappointed when I put down what I had seen and been so sure of as merely a dream, likely enhanced by the sleep aid. I went back to my compartment, had a little breakfast, and tried to again distract myself from the discomfort of the ride and destination.
About an hour before my stop, I heard a rap on the compartment door, and a woman, bundled in several coats and supporting herself with a cane, entered at my acknowledgment and sat opposite me. Only a plump, friendly face could be seen as a long, dark blue dress came to the floor with thick boots between, delicate gloves and a wide brimmed and rather fanciful hat were upon her head. Whisps of white hair were visible below it and almost shining auburn eyes peered over perhaps the thickest glasses I had ever seen. The face was well lined with care and the lines one gets from smiling and laughing often. I could not tell whether she was in her fifties and well lived, or in her eighties and well-preserved.
The woman’s voice was low and musical, and she thanked me heartily for the delightful tale I had told of the castle, village, and lake hidden in mountains. Over my protests, and truthfully, I could not remember her being one of the people I told, although perhaps she had merely heard, she insisted that a talented storyteller such as myself should have a wider audience. She would not leave the compartment until she had pressed a business card into my hand and promised that I would come to see her as soon as I could.
I thought little of it for the next hour. The intercom warned that the train was five minutes out from its next stop, a drab and uninteresting city where I would be having a meeting that was likely to be both stressful and boring. As I was gathering my luggage together to debark the train, the business card fluttered to the ground and when I picked it up, I really looked at it for the first time.
The card was of a thick cardstock that had the feel of older paper products he had seen in antique shops in the past. On one side of the card, there was what looked like a map, but had no reference points, and a list of directions that also didn’t make a lot of sense. Turning the card over, I found myself rather surprised to see what was written on the other side.
“Few can see, and fewer still appreciate enough to remember, but those might be the most special of all. If you would take the chance, follow the directions, and your heart, and dance with us by the lake.”
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I hope you all have a wonderful rest of your day; you get the chance to do or experience something creative, and I’ll catch you all on the next one!
– Jon
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