Tag Archives: immortality

#Nightgale Challenge Week 4: The Journal

26 Jan

PROMPT : Writing is Immortality

Keats – “But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retarts: Already with thee! Tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,”(Ode To a Nightingale)

(For the first three installments in this mini-series, see A Cure For Death, Dinnertime Conversation, and The Churchyard.)


The Journal

I stand in the doorway of the room, the room that was my sister’s. The room that bears no trace of her ever having lived there, apart from the book with the faded leather cover which rests on the crisply-folded linen sheets. Swallowing, I perch on the bed beside it, and cautiously touch the cover.

Two nights before, Elisabeth had been in a strange mood, methodically filling the pages of the little tome, hurried and yet oddly serene. The next morning she had been gone, leaving only the book behind. I flip open the cover, and see an inscription in her handwriting, clear and smooth but with a tendency to disregard the lines.

“To be deciphered only if I should fail in my quest.” I read, feeling a growing dread in the pit of my stomach. “For while I am still able to die, these words will live on forever, and allow anyone who wishes to continue this pursuit to do so.”

Fingers trembling, I turn the page. I do not know for certain if Elisabeth has ‘failed in her quest’, but I know my sister, and I don’t believe that she would have left the book unless she believed that failure was likely. But as my eyes fall on the next page I give a sound that is part-chuckle, part-groan. ‘Decipher’ was the correct word; the book consists entirely of diagrams and drawings, explained with a series of complicated symbols, the like of which I have never seen before in my life. This book may contain the cure for death, but to understand it one would first have to understand Elisabeth.

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Nightgale Challenge Week Three: The Churchyard

19 Jan

January 19th – PROMPT To Die and become one with Nature

Keats – “Darkling I listen, for many a time, I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die;”(Ode To A Nightingale)

(For the  first two installments in this mini-series, see A Cure For Death and Dinnertime Conversation).


The Churchyard 

A few weeks pass, and Elisabeth doesn’t mention her musings on death. I even start to think that she may have lost interest in it, out of character though that would be. And then I find her in the churchyard.

There is a large tree there, opposite the patch of earth where they buried Old Man Johnson just three weeks ago, and she is seated under it. There is a notebook in her lap, but she isn’t writing in it, and she flips it shut as I approach.

“Hiding your secrets?” I ask, half-teasing, half-wistful, and receive nothing but a smile in response, as she strokes the soft leather of the cover.

“What are you doing here?” I try a different line of enquiry, unsure as to whether I actually want a response, but unable to stop myself from searching for one.

“Thinking about the bodies.” She replies softly. “They become a part of the ground, and plants grow up from the ground. The same plant on every grave. Isn’t that interesting?”

It is interesting, and, I notice as I look around the graveyard, absolutely true. The same plant on every grave. What are the chances of that?

Nightgale Challenge Week Two: Dinnertime Conversation

12 Jan


Today is the second day of  Stevie McCoy‘s #Nightgale Challenge, a four week creative writing challenge based on immortality and Romanticism. Today’s prompt was this:

 Immortality comes to you, you do not go to Immortality

Shelley- “Why dost thou pass away and leave our state, This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate?… No voice from sublimer world hath ever, To sage or poet these responses given – Therefore the name of God and ghosts and Heaven, Remain the records of their vain endeavour,”(Hymn To Intellectual Beauty)

(N.B. This piece is a sequel to A Cure for Death?, the piece which I wrote for Week 1 of the #Nightgale Challenge. I would advise you to read that first, if you haven’t already.)


Dinnertime Conversation

“Where were you today, Elisabeth?” Mother asks sternly, ladling stew onto our plates. She is seated at the table, chin resting in her cupped hands, staring out of the window.

“Elisabeth.” I nudge her, breaking her from the trance. “Mother asked you a question.”

She lifts her chin, her startling blue eyes focusing on my face. “At the Johnson house.” She replies, her voice low and almost sing-song as she recounts the tale. “Old Man Johnson is dying you know. I wanted to see what it was like.”

“Elisabeth!” Mother scolds. “What a thing to say! And I highly doubt that the Johnsons appreciated your company!”

“They did.” Elisabeth replies, eerily self-assured. “They said that all friends were welcome, and Old Man Johnson liked me.”

“I talked to the priest.” She continues, as Mother buries her face in her hands. “He said that Immortality comes to you, you do not go to it. He says that we’ll all be granted the gift of eternal life in Heaven.”

“And?” I prompt.

“I told him he was wrong.” She shrugs. “I don’t want eternal life in Heaven, I want it here. And I’m going to find a way to get it.”

Nightgale Challenge Week One: A Cure for Death?

5 Jan


Today is the first day of  Stevie McCoy‘s #Nightgale Challenge, a four week creative writing challenge based on immortality and Romanticism. Today’s prompt was this:

Through Hemlock

Keats: “That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim:”(Ode To A Nightingale)


A Cure for Death?

She is in the woods when I catch up to her, sitting cross-legged on the dusty ground, completely relaxed despite the scene that she has just caused. When she is in one of these moods she cares little about anything but her own disjointed thoughts.

“What are you doing?” I ask her, knowing already that the answer will be far from satisfactory but needing to ask regardless, desperate for even one small glimpse into the bizarre workings of her mind.

“Thinking.” She responds dreamily, her eyes fixed on some far off point in the distance, on something only she can see. “About death. It seems such a waste, doesn’t it? There must be some cure for it.”

“A cure…for death?” Even for her this is strange. Strange and even more unwarranted than usual.

“Yes.” She is impatient now, as she so often is when others fail to understand her. “Something right under our noses, no doubt. Probably a plant.” She pulls a leaf absently from the specimen beside her, twisting it between her slim fingers.

“Well, not that one!” I snap, impatient myself, tired of her inability to reside on the same planet as the rest of us. “That’s hemlock. It’s poisonous.”

“Oh?” She shrugs, unconcerned, and the leaf spirals to the ground. “No matter. Another one perhaps. There must be thousands of plants in here.”

And then she takes off again, a blur of dirty smock and unravelling pigtails as she disappears into the gloom. I sigh and sit on the ground in her place, picking up the discarded hemlock leaf. My sister, my wild, impulsive, untameable sister, may have a point. If there are plants in here which can kill, why should there not be some which grant eternal life?


Blogging Challenges

2 Jan

As I’m attempting to complete NaBloPoMo this month, I’ve spent the past couple of days trying to plan out my posts to keep myself on track. And what should I stumble upon while trawling the internet for inspiration but TWO creative writing challenges! The first is from Lady Antimony, whose Ghouls Galore challenge I took part in last October. The challenge is this:

Resolution Confusion!


You have 6 choices of ‘resolutions’ – it’s your job to twist them as you see fit, make it go wrong in the worst possible way! 
You have up to 750 words to do so.
You will post your entry on Tuesday the 10th of January.
The ‘Resolutions’

1: I will go on a diet and lose weight.
2: I will donate more money to charity.
3: I will work harder to get that promotion.
4: I will write that book and get published.
5: I will go to anger management classes.
6: I will drink less – alcohol, caffeine etc.
But as that’s only a one day challenge, I of course felt that I needed something else to keep the creative juices flowing. Again, Antimony helped me out here, her blog linking me to the #Nightgale challenge:

 4 stories, 200 words each, Thursdays in January

Immortality vs Mortality has been an intense topic through out the ages and especially with Romantic Poets. And I don’t mean romantic as in kisses, hearts, and flowers. I mean Romantic as in the time of Romanticism with William Blake, John Keats, and Percy Shelley. The time of Frankenstein and striving for the ellusive life everlasting through any means necessary.

As it will be a new year I decided that what better way to start it off than to embrace our fears and joys over our own mortality, isn’t that what everyone thinks about every new year? lol.

So for this Blog Challenge I issue you to create four stories 200 word minimum that includes a sort of journey or realization about immortality or the lack there of in striving for it.

In Keat’s poem Ode to a Nightingale  and Shelley’s Hymn To Intellectual Beauty they try to acquire or become one with  immortality in the following ways:

January 5th – PROMPT  Through Hemlock

Keats: “That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim:”(Ode To A Nightingale)

January 12th – PROMPT Immortality comes to you, you do not go to Immortality

Shelley- “Why dost thou pass away and leave our state, This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate?… No voice from sublimer world hath ever, To sage or poet these responses given – Therefore the name of God and ghosts and Heaven, Remain the records of their vain endeavour,”(Hymn To Intellectual Beauty)

January 19th – PROMPT To Die and become one with Nature

Keats – “Darkling I listen, for many a time, I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die;”(Ode To A Nightingale)

January 26th – PROMPT : Writing is Immortality

Keats – “But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retarts: Already with thee! Tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,”(Ode To a Nightingale)

So there you have it! Check back here on Thursday to read my first #Nightgale entry, and if you want to sign up for either of the challenges then do so by clicking on the links which I’ve provided!