Reader. Writer. Romantic.

Posts tagged ‘summer writing challenge’

The Colour of Tomorrow

Today she was the colour of the sky in her white summer dress, blue bolero and sunshine yellow purse
Today nothing could touch or taint her
She had the innocence of her childhood
Encasing and protecting her

Yesterday she was the colour of ash
A ghost haunted by the shadows suspended on dust
A pale pitiful creature cowering under the cover of night

Tomorrow she will be an unopened lotus dying at summer’s end
Dying, but not suffering
Her cheeks will burn with the red of the autumn brush
Her eyes cold as winter’s sting

She is a woman in love
Holding back in fear
She has lived a thousand lives through her work
Lived a thousand lives through the books she’s read
She aches for intimacy
But remains loyal to her ideals

There is nothing more poisonous than regret, anxiety and the pressure of an unwanted experience
Nothing hurts more than abandonment
But abandonment required expectation
She had not expected empty love

She was not an easy girl
Lusting for companionship
Varying from night to night

She is tainted by the ideals of a traditional courtship
But she is strong
Not to be dominated by the weak willed

This is the literature of her future

Prompt: Reflect back on this whole experience and create something that reflects that.

A Face From the Past

You wind me up in such a way

I don’t even know my left from right

You’ve taken away my sense of direction

And left me chasing after shadows suspended on dust

I’ve been numb for so long

That when the colour returned to my world I didn’t know what to do

I’ve forgotten how to live

And I’ve lived through my poetry

My stories and the songs I’ve mentally dedicated to you

Let’s just say I’ve never been the object of sonnets

I’ve never been called beautiful

Or loved as you have loved me tonight

I don’t know how to feel

I don’t know how to act

All I know is confusion in the darkness

The way your words caress me in the dimly lit office

The way it wraps around me and keeps me warm at night

The thought of you makes me smile more than usual

The fact that you are in love not just with my body

But with my mind is rare

Thank you

You are someone I could learn to love

Prompt: Go chase some feeling down a rabbit hole of sorts. Create with passion something intense and meaningful, be it meaningful to you or to someone else. But, mostly, create something that’s going to leave you feeling inspired.

Tamper with Time

“Good morning cadets!” said Constable Lester.

“Good morning sir!” we returned in unison, on cue.

“Your assignments for today will be solved and unsolved historical crimes and solve it. You will be assigned according to your ability and you will only have access to the same technology they had at the time as well as the evidence,” briefed Constable Lester.

Everyone tittered in excitement. Historical cases allowed for us to utilize the police department’s training equipment including and not limited to combat simulators and time machines. And by the sounds of things of things, the Constable was hinting at individual assignments.

Constable Lester set out several cases about a hundred years between them so that we wouldn’t interfere with any of the other student’s progress.

“You will all be taken by time machine back to a few months before the crime is committed, not so that you can prevent it, but so that you can acclimatize and fit in with the locals. I know how all throughout your years here you’ve been trained to prevent rather than have to clean up after, but remember if we change the course of history, today as we know it may cease to exist, so be very careful what you do in the past. That’s why before you go you will be prepped by a historian of your designated time period. You will not have to operate the time machine alone, you will be dropped off and picked up by one of your teachers,” explained Constable Lester, “The rules state that the only change to history that will be tolerated is the provision of a solution to an unsolved crime. You must not be the one who takes the credit for it though, you must plant the idea into the mind of someone from that time period and have them take the credit. Questions?”

Everyone shook their head. We all wanted to know which time period and case we were to be assigned.

“Very well, let us begin,” nodded Constable Lester, pulling out a list of each student’s assignments, “Let’s just get this legendary case out of the way, Juliana, Victorian England, Jack the Ripper.”

Everyone groaned, that was a legendary case that everyone wanted to have, just to prove that they could handle it, to catch Jack. I paled. Such a high profile case meant high expectations. Constable Lester took no notice of the groans and continued reading off his list.

“Victoria, Hungary, 1500s, Elizabeth Bathory, Ivan, Russia, 1900s, Andrei Chikatilo…” droned Constable Lester.

It seemed forever before Constable Lester got to the end of our assignment list, but he finally did and when he did, he sent us off with different historians.

“Juliana, you are paired with William,” instructed Constable Lester.

I hesitantly got up and followed William out to an empty classroom. It had been pre-setup with all of William’s teaching materials, about the case and about Victorian England.

“How much do you already know?” asked William.

Using the pictures he had posted on the boards around the room, I listed off the details each of them signified, William looked very impressed.

“How do you already know so much?” he asked raising an eyebrow.

“Before I decided to go into the police force I spent a few years studying English literature from the Victorian period as well as Victorian England as part of my history degree. But those didn’t work out well for me, so I switched into my lifelong passion of policing.

“In that case, I think you’re ready to go,” said William beckoning me to follow him again.

He led me to the time machine room, where Constable Lester was waiting.

“Already?” asked Constable Lester, “I thought you said Victorians were complicated. How can you be sure that Juliana truly understands everything?”

“There was nothing to teach her,” laughed William.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Constable Lester confused.

“I mean that she was a history major who specialized in Victorian England,” answered William.

“Hardly,” I piped up, “I only took a few courses on Victorian England and English literature from the period.”

“Well, it’s far more extensive than what I had prepared, so I’d say you’re good to start on your case,” smiled William.

“Ready?” asked Constable Lester.

I bit my lip nervously and nodded.

William led me into the time machine with another constable.

“I’ll introduce you to some of my contacts when we get there. While you are there, you will live at my house,” said William.


“Juliana, this is Edward, the Assistant Commissioner,” introduced William.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I smiled offering my hand.

Edward took it and kissed it. I blushed, as if on cue.

Edward was a very good looking gentleman and in the 21st century I had a weak spot for men in suits. He was clean shaven, wispy blond hair and chocolate brown eyes that were flecked with gold.

“It’s rare, I must admit, for a lady to be in the police force, but I have been told that you are one of the best, so we certainly appreciate the assistance,” smiled Edward.

“I hope that you don’t find it too improper,” I murmured.

“It is a bit,” said Edward, “But London is a big city with rampant crime. As I said, your help is much appreciated.”


“Juliana…you wouldn’t think me improper if I asked you to dinner, would you?” asked Edward late one night, the Ripper murders were to take place.

Of course no one except I knew that something was going to happen. Tipping him off about a crime that was about to happen was definitely a big no-no.

“What I think doesn’t really matter,” I said quietly, “It’s what my family thinks.”

Edward smiled, “For a lady working in the police force in a time when it’s not normal for a lady to work and seen as respectable, you are very traditional.”

“Well…”I said hesitantly.

It was dangerous for me to fall in love. Any tampering with history would destroy the future, but I was only human, what could I do?

“Dinner sounds lovely,” I smiled.

He took me on his arm and helped me up into his carriage.

I learned from my months there, Edward was the son of the Earl of Bath. He didn’t really have to work, but he did. To be involved with someone like him made my heart protest. He was a gentleman, a species long extinct in the 21st century. It was a dream come true to meet a type that had haunted my dreams for far too long.

“Juliana, I hope you won’t be upset with me, but I may have told you a small lie,” said Edward midway through the carriage ride, interrupting my thoughts.

My heart skipped a beat. My overactive imagination took over and I thought maybe he was Jack the Ripper.

I tried to be calm and asked softly, “Where are you taking me?”

Edward smiled, “My sister is having a party at the house, so dinner won’t be quite as we had planned.”

“A party? I’m not dressed properly,” I protested.

“It’s a simple Western party,” shrugged Edward, “We can stop by a place I know to buy some clothes for you.”

“Why Western?” I asked curiously.

“For us, the West, America, holds a certain fascination for us,” smiled Edward.

“Just like the Victorians and Elizabethans hold a fascination for us in the 21st century,” I thought.

“You’re from America right?” asked Edward.

“Canada,” I corrected.

“Apologies. Do you know what your southern neighbour’s western wear is like,” asked Edward.

“I’m pretty sure I do,” I laughed, “It’s not hard to figure out.”

I was from Calgary, “cow town.” Western was second nature to me.

“I’m not usually one to ask, but will you help me choose something suitable to wear?” asked Edward timidly.

“Of course,” I nodded.


“Are you sure it’s supposed to be worn this way?” asked Edward, twisting to look at the back of his duster.

“Yes,” I reassured for the hundredth time.

“It doesn’t feel right,” protested Edward.

“How do you know how it’s supposed to feel?” I asked stifling a laugh.

“I don’t, just clothes shouldn’t feel this uncomfortable,” said Edward.

“Uncomfortable, coming from a Victorian seems a bit ironic,” I thought with a smile.

“Let’s just go before your sister questions your tardiness,” I sighed, slapping his hand away as he tried to readjust his hat again.


“Edward!” exclaimed his sister, Lady Phillipa, “Who’s your lady friend?”

“Colleague,” said Edward both embarrassed and proudly.

“Just a colleague?” teased Phillipa.

“Yes,” said Edward firmly.

“Sure,” said Phillipa, winking at me.

I was dressed like a Southern Belle and I was glad that I had curly blond hair so I didn’t look completely ridiculous.

“Edward, who is this?” asked an older lady I supposed was his mother.

“My colleague, Lady Juliana,” introduced Edward.

“A woman is your colleague?” clarified the older lady.

“Yes, I know what you’re going to say, but she’s not a new woman,” said Edward defensively.

“But she’s working?” she said.

“Yes,” nodded Edward.

“In the London police force?” she continued.

“Yes,” said Edward, edging on impatient.

“Are you courting her Edward?” demanded the lady.

Edward hesitated for a minute, “Yes!”

“She really is very beautiful,” interjected Phillipa.

“Yes, but that’s besides the point,” said the lady huffily.

“I think that’d be romantic! Like…like all those gentlemen in the South of the United States and the beautiful Southern Belles, I think you would be one of them,” complimented Phillipa.

“Get your head on straight, young lady! There is nothing romantic about Edward marrying a servant girl!” scolded the older lady.

I sighed, “With all due respect Duchess, I have no intention to disappoint you. Though it appears that I have captured the heart of Lord Edward, I know that I can never marry him. “

What I had to say next broke my heart, “I’m already engaged to someone back home.”

Edward’s face fell and I wanted to hug him the way we did in the 21st century, but I wasn’t in the right time to act in that way.

The older lady smiled triumphantly and glided away.

“I don’t doubt it! You’re so beautiful, who wouldn’t propose to you!” exclaimed Phillipa excitedly, “A bet he’s a southern gentleman!”

I looked at Edward bashfully, “I hope you don’t think me rude to have lied to your mother.”

Edward looked at me surprised, “My, my you never fail to surprise me. I suppose I lied earlier, so I should pardon you for doing so yourself.”

I laughed, “Let’s grab a bite, I’m famished.”

Edward nodded and followed my lead.


After a couple dozen dances and mingling with the party guests, I made my way back to Edward, who I had somehow lost in the duration of the evening.

“Edward, it’s getting late, I should go home,” I whispered gently in his ear as I passed on the way out.

“Please, allow me to escort you home,” offered Edward, catching me around the waist.

I smiled, “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” returned Edward.

Edward helped me up into his carriage and we headed to my apartment. To get to my apartment we had to pass through Whitechapel and I dreaded. It would be the first time seeing one of the Ripper’s victims in something that was not a picture.

As we passed through Whitechapel, the carriage suddenly stopped, sending me flying into Edward in the seat across from me.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Edward angrily, helping me up onto the seat next to him.

The driver turned around, his face pale with cold sweat running down his face.

“Sir…” he started in a shaky voice.

“Why have we stopped?” Edward asked, opening the door of the carriage.

He took a step out of the car and froze in his tracks. A look of horror passed over his face as he grabbed the edge of the carriage door frame to steady himself.

“Juliana, stay in the carriage,” ordered Edward.

“What’s the matter?” I asked feigning stupidity.

“You do not want to see this,” said Edward.

“Edward, what is going on?!” I asked, even though I knew what to expect.

“Fine, you might as well come out,” sighed Edward relenting, “I’m sure we’ll end up with this case anyhow.”

“Case?” I echoed, stepping out.

No amount of preparation would prepare me for the sight of Mary Ann Nichols mangled body lying in the middle of the road. Her throat had been slit by two very deep cuts that had probably severed her jugular vein and/or carotid artery. The lower part of her abdomen was sliced open as well as several slits around her abdomen. It appeared as though her attacker had medical experience and something against prostitutes. I grabbed the door frame of the carriage to steady myself. Everything was hazy and spinning; Edward ran forward to support me.

“Call an officer on duty,” Edward ordered his driver,guiding me back to the carriage.

The driver took off yelling as he went.

Edward sat me down at the edge of the carriage and put his arm around me.

“Are you okay?” asked Edward tenderly.

He removed his duster and wrapped it around me.

I nodded, “We should see what we can glean from this crime scene before it gets contaminated.”

Edward looked at me in shock, “You’re already ready to get to work?!”

“I didn’t think I would be sleeping tonight,” I joked.

“I don’t think so,” sighed Edward, “I’m taking you home.”

His driver returned with an officer on duty.

“I want you to cordon off this area, I’ll be back in a while to deal with this,” ordered Edward, helping me into the carriage.

“Is there anyone who can stay with you?” asked Edward.

“William,” I answered, “Are you sure I can’t help?”

Edward shook his head, “Not tonight.”


“Hey, William, I’m a strong, independent woman right?” I asked, making myself a cup of hot chocolate in the kitchen.

“Depends how you define that,” grinned William.

“Oh, stop,” I said, smacking him.

“Then yes,” said William, “Where are you going with this?”

“You think that I can propose to someone?” I hinted.

“No,” said William flatly, “Don’t even think about it. Don’t mess up the time-space continuum.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of Edward,” I grinned.

“Then who?” asked William confused.

“Just someone I know,” I laughed.

“Yeah, who?” repeated William.

“A guy,” I continued.

“Juliana, you’re driving me nuts!” exclaimed William.

“He’s handsome and has a sweet Russian accent and wears a cowboy duster. Or sometimes he’s a dandy dabbling in the underground world. Or even an undead evil creature of the night,” I said dreamily.

“Undead evil creature of the night, wait who are you talking about?” demanded William.

“Oh, just a couple guys I’m considering proposing to,” I laughed.

“I would not propose to the dandy or the evil creature of the night,” suggested William doubtfully.

“Well that’s narrowed it down for me,” I smiled.

“Does he have a name?” asked William.

“Dimitri,” I answered, “Dimitri Belikov.”

William groaned, “Juliana! Go to bed!”

I laughed, “I’m sorry William, I’m just bored out of my mind.”

“Well you did just pretend to be a fragile lady and almost faint,” said William dryly.

“I’m sure Edward wouldn’t have allowed me to do anything anyways,” I said.

“Yes, well, you are taking this case, everything has been arranged so that it is the only course of action that Edward will choose,” said William.

“Alright, good night I supposed,” I sighed.


After months of working on the Ripper case with all his gruesome crime scenes, I was beginning to become desensitized and appreciative of his brand, though grotesque, of art. I didn’t want either, but nonetheless working with the Ripper had hardened me.

Late one Friday evening, when only Edward and I remained in the office, did he dare approach me about my plans for the long weekend.

“This case is going nowhere!” exclaimed Edward, pushing his chair away from his desk and leaned back into it, “We’re no closer to catching him than we were when we found Mary Ann Nichols!”

He stood, slamming his fists down on the table startling me.

“That’s no reason to get physically violent,” I chided.

“Apologies,” said Edward sheepishly.

“I think you’ve overworked yourself and need to take some time to refresh your mind. Go out of town or something this weekend and don’t you dare think about work,” I suggested, “An overly stressed mind will not yield you any useful results.”

“I suppose you have a point,” conceded Edward, “Do you have any plans for this weekend?”

“Not particularly, did you have something in mind?” I smiled.

“Have you heard of Kenilworth?” inquired Edward.

“It was a 14-19 day event, I say 14-19 because there is a debate amongst some scholars about the length. Anyways, it was hosted by the Earl of Leicester, Robin Dudley for Queen Elizabeth’s summer progress in 1575,” I said.

“You are well-informed!” exclaimed Edward delighted, “Well there is something like that that is happening this weekend, I was wondering if you cared to join me?”

“What will your mother say?” I asked worriedly.

“Why would my mother care?” asked Edward confused.

“Well she thinks I’m engaged, remember?” I said.

“Oh…yes,” said Edward absentmindedly, “That would look so improper, unless…”

“Unless what?” I demanded.

“Unless we say the engagement was broken off,” grinned Edward.

“You’re more mischievous than I gave you credit for, you scoundrel. Look, it doesn’t matter to me how we cover up our lies, I’m still going to get called an unsavoury name any way I go about this,” I sighed.

Edward laughed, “I’ll stop by around 10 tomorrow morning, does that suit you?”

I nodded standing, “Good night Edward.”

“Good night Juliana,”


“Good morning Juliana,” greeted Edward, “Have you packed an overnight bag?”

“No, why?” I asked, thrown off by the question.

“Well, I thought we could stay there for a couple of days,” said Edward looking injured, “Just to take our minds off the case.”

“No, you’re absolutely right, this would be good for the both of us,” I said, “Just to get away for a little while.”

“Wonderful!” smiled Edward.

“Well come in,” I invited, “There’s no use making you wait outside for twenty or more minutes. Does your driver want to come in for a moment?”

Edward stepped inside and closed the door.

“I don’t have a driver this time. It’s just going to be me and you this weekend,” said Edward.

I smiled wanting to give him a hug, but knowing my place, I refrained.

“Would you like me to help?” offered Edward.

Noticing my awkward embarrassed stare at the ground, he quickly rephrased, “Not with anything personal…just any heavy lift, and maybe…no, just heavy lifting.”

I laughed, “Alright.”

Edward lifted my case from the top shelf of my closet and set it gently before me.


We made good time despite my last minute packing. We checked into our hotel close to the fairgrounds. Our rooms were adjacent to one another and we went up to drop off our bags before heading to the fair. Edward took me on his arm and together we walked through the gate into Wonderland.

It was dazzling, just like walking into a Victorian Disneyland, only better. Greek Gods and Goddesses roamed the park like they owned the thing, fairies flitted between guests, there was even a steam powered dragon terrorizing patrons, and King Arthur and his knights rescuing damsels in distress. I felt like a child again, in awe of everything a hundred times over and over again.

Some fairies fluttered over and encircled us throwing flower petals like fragrant rain upon us. They linked hands and danced merrily around us, chanting a prophecy:

A pretty princess dressed in pink
A high lord not far from the throne
A love doomed to be
A Romeo to her Juliet
For unbeknownst she comes from a future past
And he is bound in time
Tied to custom and codes of chivalry long forgotten
She, though free
Is fettered by duty to the people of the world
Doomed, doomed, doomed
Is this sweet innocent love

They disappeared as quickly as they had come leaving me shocked speechless.

“Juliana? Are you unwell?” asked Edward, worriedly as my face had gone paper white.

I nodded, still speechless.

“You don’t actually believe their prophecy do you?” asked Edward incredulous.

I nodded again.

“Oh for heaven’s sake Juliana…” sighed Edward.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled running back to the hotel.

The only thing I could think of was to call William, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t deny I have feelings, that I don’t love him. I’m in too deep, I’ve gotten too close. If this goes on…I don’t know how much more of this I can han–”

A knock on the door interrupted me mid-sentence.

“Just remember Juliana, make sure whatever you choose to do, you make sure you exit is smooth. He won’t remember you after you go, but don’t be reckless with him. Some things can never be forgotten. If you must, give him a token, that doesn’t matter because no matter how much he looks into it, he will never remember you,” advised William.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, hanging up.

I went to the door.

In front of me stood the Duchess of Bath frowning.

“Your ladyship,” I said uncertainly.

“Don’t even pretend you belong in our sphere of influence! Don’t you dare go near my son again! Leave, just pack your things and leave. You had no right coming here with him. Don’t tell Edward a thing, just go and I’ll forgive you for this gross transgression,” she said her eyes flashing with violent anger, “But if I find you courting Edward again, I will make sure you wished you had never been born. Do I make myself clear?”

I trembled and nodded.

“Mother?” called Edward, from the end of the hallway, making his way towards us.

The Duchess spun around with a smile plastered to her face, “Oh, hello Edward.”

“Not a word,” she growled at me, loud enough only for me to hear.

“Are you berating my Juliana?” demanded Edward, aggressively, coming to my side.

“Berating, heaven forbid I would do something so cruel. No, we were just having a chat,” simpered the Duchess, “Besides, she’s betrothed, how can she be your Juliana?”

“There has been some complications, she’s now betrothed to me,” said Edward, putting his arm around my waist.

“Excuse me?” exclaimed the Duchess affronted.

“Though you are my mother and I respect your decisions, I am master of myself and will choose to give my affections to whomever I see fit,” stated Edward.

“What if she was a prostitute?” said the Duchess smugly, as though the one question could ruin everything, “Would you lower yourself in such a demeaning way?”

“The point is, is that she isn’t a prostitute and your ‘what if’ is invalid. And you forget mother, you were once a simple country girl. A title, manor, and city life has let the power go to your head,” reminded Edward gently.

“Like father, like son,” sneered the Duchess.

“Don’t you dare disrespected my father,” ordered Edward authoritatively, “He died protecting the values of this family; I will not have you drag his name or memory through the dirt.”

The Duchess shrank back in fear.

“Father loved you far too much to see past your follies. He loved you so much so that he allowed you to commit far too many cruelties. Don’t think for one second I won’t hesitate to turn you out onto the streets,” continued Edward.

She stared at him in horror. The thought of scrounging for food amongst peasants disgusted her.

“Not another word about Juliana out of you, do you understand?” said Edward firmly.

She nodded meekly and disappeared into her room down the hall.

“Thank you Edward,” I said quietly.

“Not at all,” smiled Edward affectionately, “But I’d like a word with you in private.”

I nodded and let him into the sitting room in my suite.

“Firstly, I want to know why that prophecy bothered you so much,” asked Edward.

“Because it spoke the truth,” I said vaguely.

One of the rules of time travel was that no one in the time we traveled to could know about it, but seeing as I had broken a dozen other rules about time travel it didn’t make any difference if I broke another. Besides, after all this was said and done, Edward wouldn’t remember a thing.

“But time travel doesn’t exist,” urged Edward.

“Not a word to anyone,” I said, lowering my voice, “Promise me.”

Edward nodded and leaned closer.

“Time travel exists where I come from,” I answered.

“Where and when are you from?” asked Edward curiously.

“Calgary, Alberta, Canada, 2218,” I answered.

Edward looked at me in awe, but then the realization hit him and his face fell.

“You’re only here to catch the Ripper and leave isn’t that right?” he asked crestfallen.

“I’m a cadet at a police academy, this was just another assignment, but I became too attached…emotionally, I have to go,” I said, trying to control my emotions.

“To me?” asked Edward surprised.

“Yes, to you,” I confirmed.

Edward looked at me speechless, as though he had never known how I had felt. I stood to leave.

“Wait, will I remember any of this? Will I remember you?” asked Edward uncertainly.

“Luckily for you, you’re going to forget all this pain,” I said, “I’ll never forget though.”

“Wait, I have something for you. Something that may help with the pain,” said Edward, “A token to remember the happy times we had together.”

He opened a box with a beautiful diamond ring in it. It was a pair engagement rings, one for the each of us.

“I can’t,” I said.

But he insisted, slipping the ring onto my finger and putting the other one.

“I promise never to marry. I will never find someone as dazzling and inspiring as you,” whispered Edward in my ear.

I threw my arms around him, fighting back tears. He leaned in and kissed me tenderly. I wished the moment would never end, but I knew it had to.

I cut a lock of hair and handed it to him.

“Tomorrow when you wake up you won’t remember anything. That lock of hair will mean nothing to you, but you’ll have the Ripper’s name and you will have the credit and a place in history for being the man who single-handedly caught Jack the Ripper,” I said handing him a sealed envelope.

He looked at me in surprise, “I don’t want to forget you. Someone like you should never be forgotten. I’m sorry we were not born in the same era; your talents would have made you shine. How long had you known who the Ripper was? Was it last night? Or sooner?”

I gave him a small smile and walked away.

Good bye my fancy.


When I returned to London, I was still in tears. I had finally found my prince charming, but I couldn’t bring myself to break the rules and let myself be in love with him.

“Juliana, I thought…did you not go with Edward out of town this morning?” asked William, when I came into the apartment.

I shook my head and wiped away my tears again, “I caught the last train back.”

“Oh…Juliana…what happened?” asked William embracing me.

“It’s done. I’ve given him the name of the man we once knew as Jack the Ripper. He has a name and he as a face and Edward will get the credit for this breakthrough,” I sobbed.

William nodded knowingly, “Then it’s time to go.”


I returned to the academy and headed straight to the archives. My heart was aching far too much to concentrate on much else. I had to know what had become of Edward.

I went to the history books that detailed the lives of prominent aristocrats and flipped through it until I came across Edward. The first six pages were background information on Edward’s childhood. It was interesting, but it didn’t matter to me. I read about how he discovered who Jack the Ripper was and how he went on to solve several high profile cases including a joint case that led to the conviction of H.H. Holmes. On the last page was a full length photograph of Edward. He still wore his matching ring in the photograph. Underneath the picture was a small paragraph: Lord Edward Windsor, Earl of Bath died at age 45, unmarried and without children. His large estate was donated to a girl’s boarding promoting greater female involvement primarily in the police force.

Prompt: Rework an existing piece (either one created during this challenge or else a previous work from before this challenge) [this piece was from last summer’s August Writing Challenge]

Lessons Past

Do not fear little one to let your intelligence show
There is nothing more to say about the deadly combo
Of brains and beauty
Charm them with your beauty
Overwhelm them with your wit
There is nothing more satisfying than to look back and see your own splendor
Years from now
That will be the talk of the town
Just smile my darling
And learn to act
Play the part of the charming child
Naive in appearance
But modestly intelligent
Act as though it does not matter
Pretend that you do not care for their praise
We are all actors in this superficial world
Learn to let things go
Don’t let the acid burn too long
And always remember
To be true to your heart
your dreams
and your loved ones
Never let go of your imagination

Prompt: create a gift to your elementary aged self

Meeting you

The walls slowly closing in
I can feel the rough concrete against my body
I am Atlas
The burden of the world on me

A hand squeezes
My lungs contract
A muffled beating
My heart encased in a too small cavity
Unable to break from its bonds

The parched roughness of a tongue dragged across the desert sand
Breaths come in gasps
Each sandy
Cutting the next short
Killing me slowly
But necessary

Prompt: The [sense] of [emotion] ie. The smell of happiness or the sound of love. The number of combinations are endless. The catch? The emotion cannot be mentioned and must be expressed using concrete terms.

Conflict of Existence

When it comes to love
And you feel the walls shatter
And the laughter resound and reverberate throughout your whole body
Let the idealist lead and the realist govern

They tell you
“They are chemicals
Giving way to chemicals
Controlled by electrical impulses
Take your place
Control this urge to destroy
Capture this conflict
That colours your world”

“Where did all the Passion go?
The lingering bliss?”

“Just a novelty
Ordinary, so ordinary
Don’t bother to look
To try
To think
Or to feel”

I will never forgive you
Or forget my dreams
What I truly see is what I cannot have
Do not try to be happy

A Promise to Milton

Prompt: Create a piece that connects to a previous piece you’ve done, either in this challenge or before it started.
Piece I’m responding to:
NOTE: This is like an epilogue to the piece above. For background information that you will need, please read the story above first.

As I stood to leave, Dr. Maxwell called me back, “Mira, do you remember what I said in class?”
I furrowed my brow. Class had meant a week ago. I had been occupied by my thesis defense to think about much else.
“Not really,” I admitted.
“No?” repeated Dr. Maxwell raising an eyebrow.
I shook my head, “I’m sorry. I can’t remember what I had for dinner last night let alone what happened almost a week ago.”
Dr. Maxwell laughed, “Milton? Does that ring a bell?”
I thought for another minute, then groaned, “I have to read the entire second book of Paradise Lost.”
Dr. Maxwell nodded, “And because I know you love it so, I want an essay on it, on my desk, on Monday morning.”
“Do you know what a weekend is?” I asked incredulous.
“Yes, they are the days that come at the end of a week on a calendar. There’s nothing that says I cannot assign you work, nor is there any rule saying that you can’t be writing an essay on those days,” said Dr. Maxwell simply.
“Can’t you give me a break? Or at least an extension?” I exclaimed, “I just finished defending my dissertation!”
Dr. Maxwell pretended to give it some thought before answering, “No.”
“Come on! Christian! Please!” I begged, “I need sleep! I can’t read all of book two and write an essay in one night! If I do, it’ll be no good!”

Dr. Maxwell sighed, “Wednesday evening. In my office.”

“Thank you!” I exclaimed, running over to give him a hug.

He brushed his hand against my leg, “Will you be free for dinner after?”

I smiled, “Of course.”

Dr. Maxwell nodded, “Congratulations again Mira. Good luck on that essay.”

I laughed, “Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”


When I got home, Valentine was stationed in front of the T.V. with a headset on and a controller in his hand. He looked as though he was in deep concentration and I suppose he was. I tiptoed by to grab some lunch, trying not to break his concentration, but I never did do quiet well.

“Hey, how’d it go?” asked Valentine.

“I’ll tell you when you’re not playing,” I answered rummaging through the fridge.

“I’m done,” said Valentine, tossing off the headset and turning off the console.

“Really? Weren’t you playing that with friends? Can you just leave them like that?” I asked doubtfully.

Valentine shrugged, “It’s just a game. How did it go?”

I shrugged, “Okay I guess. Made a total fool of myself at the start. I mean, after all I was late. And Dr. Maxwell was so furious with me.”

“Then what happened?” prompted Valentine.

“Then apparently I started seeing ghosts and recited my entire piece from memory,” I answered, closing the fridge, heading over to the stove to make a grilled cheese.

“What really?! That’s kinda scary!” exclaimed Valentine.

“Which part?” I asked.

“Well…both,” admitted Valentine.

“It was just my mom,” I said quietly.

“Oh…” said Valentine unsure how to respond.

“It’s fine…sorry for making it awkward,” I said.

We were silent for a few minutes as Valentine watched me grill the sandwich.

“Did you already eat?” I asked, flipping the sandwich.

Valentine nodded, “Yeah, I didn’t want you to have to worry about me once you got back.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, “I have a lot of work to do this weekend since I spent so much time perfecting my thesis.”

“I bet,” said Valentine dryly.

“Dr. Maxwell assigned the entire second book of Milton’s Paradise Lost plus an essay for me, due Wednesday. Plus I’ve still got a couple assignments left to complete for Monday. I’m so tired, I just want to sleep. UGH!!!!” I complained.

Valentine laughed, “Probably nothing I can—”

“I’m home!” declared my father grandly coming in.

I turned around and glared at him.

“What?!” exclaimed William.

“Don’t even pretend,” I said accusingly.

“Oh…crap…I missed it didn’t I?” asked William.

“Yeah, I’ll be upstairs,” I said taking my sandwich with me, “Writing an essay on Milton.”

“Was it any good?” I heard William ask Valentine.

“Should have gone,” was all Valentine said before I closed my door.

I pulled out my copy of Paradise Lost and began reading. It was late evening before I finished reading. I had forgotten dinner entirely, but I wasn’t that interested in food at this point. Exhaustion was hazing all abilities to function normally. I went to sleep though there was still so much to be done.


I woke up early the next morning and got straight to work. The weekend was too short for everything I had to do and before I knew it, it was Monday and I was assigned even more work. I knew I had to get to the Milton essay, but I just wasn’t feeling any motivation to write it. I sat down and started my first draft on Tuesday night. Dr. Maxwell was going to kill me for the crap I was writing.

“Here,” I said, handing Dr. Maxwell my paper in class the next day.

“I said you could give it to me in the evening,” said Dr. Maxwell looking up at me as he was setting up for class that day.

“I have classes till six thirty today,” I said, “There’s no point to hold onto it. I’m scared I’m going to crease the paper anyways.”

“Alright,” nodded Dr. Maxwell stuffing the paper into his briefcase.

I was so tired, but happy I had finally got that paper out of the way.

“Meet me in my office when you’re done your class,” whispered Dr. Maxwell.

I nodded and slumped into my seat.


“Mirabelle!” called a voice as I made my way to Dr. Maxwell’s office.

I spun around and did a double take. Why was my father at the university? And more importantly, how did he find his way to the English department.

“What?” I called back.

“I heard that you scored very high on your work,” said William, “Congratulations. I was thinking we should go out to celebrate your success and mine.”

“What did you go back to write?” I asked.

“I call it Macbeth!” said William proudly.

“Oh…I see. Well dinner tonight is not possible, I already have a commitment,” I said.

“Oh? And what would that be?” asked William.

“Dinner with my supervisor,” I said flatly.

“Who? Christian?” asked William surprised.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Well, why don’t we make it a family thing? Invite Natasha and Valentine and all celebrate your success together,” suggested William.

“I’ll have to talk to Christian about it,” I grumbled, leading the way.

I knocked on his door and he looked up at me in the same way he always did.

“Come in,” he said.

“I brought my dad, I hope you don’t mind,” I stated.

“I thought we were having dinner together,” said Dr. Maxwell confused.

“Yeah, so did I. My father suggested that you invite Natasha along and we all go out together,” I repeated.

“Uh…no. William, I mean no offense, but uh, I’d like to share this evening with Mirabelle. You know just between supervisor and student…I mean…” said Dr. Maxwell stumbling.

“Excuse me?” asked William raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, what I mean to say is that we have worked so hard on this and that it was an effort that only the two of us put in. Therefore, it only seems right that we share this private victory together before we share it with our families, does that make any sense?” clarified Dr. Maxwell.

Dr. Maxwell sure had a way with words.

“Alright, that sounds reasonable. How about a BBQ at our house this weekend to celebrate?” suggested William.

“Certainly,” agreed Dr. Maxwell smiling.

He rose, grabbing his coat and ushering out of his office.

“I’ll be home sorta late,” I told William, “Don’t worry about it, Christian can give me a ride home.”

William nodded, “No problem. Enjoy your dinner. Where are you taking her Christian?”

“Earls,” answered Dr. Maxwell.

William looked at him in surprise, but said nothing.


Away from prying eyes in a place where no one knew us, Dr. Maxwell finally relaxed and became his affectionate self.

“You know you spoil me,” I whispered, as we walked from the car.

“I love to see your reaction,” returned Dr. Maxwell, “Besides, this is nothing. Wait until you see what I have planned for you later.”

My jaw dropped, did he just say what I thought he said.

“Isn’t Natasha at home?” I asked.

“Who said anything about going to my place?” laughed Dr. Maxwell.

“You paid for a hotel room?” I asked.

“Of course,” said Dr. Maxwell.

“Oh Christian!” I exclaimed.

“Would you prefer the backseat of my car?” asked Dr. Maxwell.

“Well, no, but…you don’t have to spend that kind of money on me,” I said.

“I want to,” reassured Dr. Maxwell.

Dr. Maxwell had previously made reservations. That was why it was so important my father, brother and his wife, Natasha, couldn’t come along. We were seated off from the main “traffic” in a place we could enjoy our dinner in relative peace. After dinner, Dr. Maxwell drove us to Hotel Alma, situated on the university campus.

With the door safely locked behind us, Dr. Maxwell lost all restraint, pinning me to the bed and attacking my neck with his kisses.

“Christian,” I whispered softly, “Your suit’s too nice to get wrinkled, take it off will you?”

Dr. Maxwell smirked, tossing his suit jacket and tie onto a nearby chair. He undid his pants and tossed them aside as well. I reached up and helped him undo the buttons on his dress shirt and discarded that too.

“Much better,” I teased.

“Your turn,” he returned, tugging at my blouse.

I slipped it over my head as he tossed it onto his pile of clothes.


It was close to two in the morning by the time Dr. Maxwell had dropped me off. I tiptoed inside and hoped that I wasn’t disturbing anyone. My father, being the creep he was, was still sitting in his study writing.

“Why are you home so late?” he questioned.

“We got caught up in a conversation about work,” I lied.

“You’re always caught up in your work. You and Christian both,” sighed William.

“I guess that’s why he’s my supervisor,” I shrugged.

“I guess,” repeated William, “Or maybe because you belong together.”

“Excuse me what?!” I exclaimed, “Dad! You can’t just say things like that.”

“Don’t think I don’t know,” smiled William, “I’ve written plenty on human nature, I know.”

“Yours are just generalizations…I’m not just another story,” I argued.

“You know I’m right Mirabelle,” said William, “You just won’t admit it. Or maybe you can’t. There is so much to worry about I know. And I’m not condoning the fact that you are helping Christian cheat on Natasha, but as your father, I just want to see you happy.”
“Not condoning,” I laughed, “You write all about the mess of relationships. There must be some truth behind your words.”

William shrugged and gave me a small smile, “Go to bed, it’s getting late.”


Like every day and week before, time flew by faster than I expected and it was the weekend. Valentine agreed to stay home and make the place presentable while I went out grocery shopping with William for all the essentials. Dinner was to be served at six thirty, but William had asked for Dr. Maxwell and Natasha to be at the house at four for some mingling. They were never early or late. They always arrived precisely on time.

“Hey!” I exclaimed opening the door for them.

“Congratulations!” exclaimed Natasha giving me a hug, “I heard you ranked first or is that just Christian exaggerating?”

I laughed, “I don’t think they have rankings, but I scored pretty high.”

Dr. Maxwell and I exchanged a look as he passed by. Natasha didn’t notice, she headed straight for William.

“Hey, Will, heard you wrote up another piece. Macbeth is it?” called out Natasha.

“Yeah!” exclaimed William excitedly.

Bragging ensued. I didn’t care to listen. I had heard it a hundred times. Dad always threw a “party” after he published something so that he’d get praised. And Natasha was such a suck up. Or maybe she was flirting with him. Either way, she always seemed to be interested in what he was doing.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked dully.

Dr. Maxwell laughed, “Some things never change do they?”

A Woman’s Words

It was exactly as she said
As I headed out the door
The tone of bitterness
Full of deep regret

Each and every outing
Etched with vexatious war

I cannot have my freedom
Though I have ever always loved you
You are the only one, ever loved and respected
Yet in your jealousy, you  hold me back
You take advantage of my love
And use it to cage me up
And yet I return to you always

Like a dehydrated fool in the desert
To the hot miraged metal sea
Burning my hands and feet
Burning my tongue and lips
To get the sweet taste of long forgotten eau

Tonight I decided
My final decision is made

No longer will I be bound
By your jealous vines
I will not be held back
By your passive aggressive permission

Middle Earth: Industrialization, Race and Colonization

There have been hundreds of thousands of books and movies released each year commenting on the state of human civilization, industrialization, and humanity more generally. Each has a unique approach, but essentially the message is the same: humans have done more harm to our world than any other species. Our greed has led us to destroy our environment, isolate our friends and corrupt our youth with materialistic ideals. That is not to say that we, as humans do not have the potential to do good, but rather that history has been dominated by the desire for power and prestige. Among these works is a classic story that has been cleverly by beautiful landscapes and mythical creatures. In The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, J.R.R Tolkien asserts that there was a time when we, like the hobbits maintained a symbiotic relationship with our environment. However, due to globalization and the influence of industrialization that developed as a result of the advancement of our ability to understand and develop in the fields of science and technology, we “forgot” what it meant to respect our environment.

The comparison that resonates most vividly in my mind is the betrayal of Saruman. The general impression I get from wizards is that their job is to maintain the balance in the world. Not just the balance within the environment and its ecosystems, but to ensure harmony between the races of Middle Earth. The wizard that embodies this concept the most is Radagast the Brown. It appears as though the “lower” the wizard’s rank, the closer he is to nature. Saruman’s “rank” amongst the wizards is the highest, meaning he holds the most power. And it’s fair to say that absolute power corrupts absolutely, as we have seen through communism: theory verse practice. However, in linking white as being the most powerful of wizards, there are connotations of racial superiority. For example, when we first meet Gandalf, he is Gandalf the Grey. He explicitly refers to Saruman the White as his superior, though in this instance the racial distinction is not made as apparent as it is later in Gandalf’s revival and confrontation with Saruman as he is controlling Theoden, King of Rohan. When Gandalf pretends to be of a lower rank, he is powerless against Saruman, but all Gandalf needs to do is to strip off his grey overcoat and the radiance of his whiteness (well, and the power associated with his “upgrade” to Gandalf the White) immediately overpowers Saruman. However, this battle is used to show the domination of “good” over evil. Saruman, though white, is evil because he has allowed his greed for power to cloud his good judgement. Saruman’s greed has caused him to turn Isengard into an industrial centre, not dissimilar to England during the industrial revolution. Saruman is not only an example of industrialization, but also an example of the corrupt reach of imperialism. Discontent with his position as the head of his order and with owning only Isengard, Saruman joins with Sauron in a plot to take over all of Middle Earth. His lust for power is fulfilled through his orc and uruk-hai armies who storm the kingdoms of Middle Earth, terrorizing its citizens and forcing submission through fear. Again, these are not dissimilar to methods employed during the colonization of countries in the Americas.

Contrasted to the corrupt Saruman are the hobbits. The hobbits are able to maintain their purity largely because of their isolation from the outside world. Hobbits aren’t naturally curious and would not venture outside the Shire seeking adventure, with a couple exceptions of course. This is reinforced by Treebeard when he encounters Merry and Pippin in Fangorn Forest. Treebeard, though an Ent, has not heard of a hobbit. It is unusual that a creature as aged as he would not know about the hobbits unless it was true that hobbits did not often venture out on grand adventures. The hobbits essentially live in holes in the ground, making do with the landscape rather than building large fancy structures like the elves or men. They lead simple lives and have an overwhelming desire to do good, as in the example of Frodo. Though Frodo knows at the council of Elrond that he could be forever relieved of the burden of bearing the Ring to its destruction in Mordor, the argument that breaks out amongst those at the meeting in addition to the allure of the Ring causes Frodo to volunteer even though he had no desire to do so originally.  I would in part attribute it to Frodo’s good nature, but we cannot ignore the allure of the Ring. The Ring, I believe is symbolic of power itself. The chance to hold ultimate power is always alluring. It is a possession that Frodo, like all the ringbearers before him, are ultimately is unable to relinquish.

That is to say, Tolkien’s representation of real world problems in a fantasy world was one of the best told and well disguised moral stories I’ve had the pleasure of watching. I’m sure that if I had read the book there would have been much more that I could have gleaned and analysed. All I have to say is that I’ve been too long deprived of a critical piece to write and to allow myself to do a critical analyse in a playful way has been much too fun. This could never pass for a genuine essay, but this will do as a response to summer challenge prompt.

Lessons Learned in Neverland

Life is not entirely about having fun. Life is about equal parts pleasure and work. Life is relative. We do not know the value of our luxury until we have had to work for it. Only a child wouldn’t understand.

All their lives, children live in a disillusioned world. They don’t have to work for food, a roof over their head or a warm bed at night. These are the responsibility of adults. To make a child understand is a hard thing to do. Try too hard and you look like the antagonist. Don’t try hard enough and the child becomes a spoiled brat.

This is the lesson I tried to teach Peter. I was not his father, but he had been long abandoned by his family, replaced by another child. It was easy to understand the hurt and pain that he had endured, but a child’s mind is irrational and the pain forced Peter to refuse to grow up. A childish solution invented by a childish mind.

Over the years, Peter abducted children from their homes; convinced them that growing up was a horrible thing and that in choosing childhood, the children would be forever released from their obligations. It would take falling in love for Peter to understand that life as a child was not always perfect, not always free from worry. I tried showing him. I did battle with him to prove that there were limits as to what children could do; they had no power against adults in a world that favoured the learned, the experienced, but he could not understand. Looking back, I could have been as childish, stubborn and erred greatly in my judgement. How could I, a fully grown adult expect a child to be at the same intellectual level as myself? How could I reason with a mind that had not yet developed the ability to think rationally? What did I really think I could accomplish?

Perhaps it was Peter’s imagination that allowed him to prevail and all along, I was the fool, I was the naïve child who knew nothing about growing up.

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