This weeks writing task was to write a 400 word story focusing on detail. which is hard in short stories as.. well you only have so many words to play with.
The sun set outside the cabin. The sunlight barely reached the windows through the trees though, not this far into the woods. There was just enough of a hint of the dying day seeping through the window that Vera knew the sun was setting.
Last evening, she had sat at the top of the cliffs watching the sun paint the sky in purple and pinks. The soft colours were quite a contrast from the dark shadow of the woods below. Vera had watched until the last rays had been swallowed up in the night. She knew her way around the woods nearly as well as her brothers. She didn’t need much more than the soft moonlight to find her way back home. Her mother hadn’t been too pleased with her when she finally walked through the doors. But Vera could see the city from the cliffs. She didn’t know which one was his house but she knew he lived there in Farvell.
Timothy, the blacksmith’s son.
Tonight, Vera wasn’t at the cliffs. Her older brothers had returned and so she was home, by the fireside leaning against the old worn down armchair. Their mother was sitting in it, listening to her sons describe their recent trip to the capital city. The Baige Island traders had been visiting Farvell and had brought their many mysterious wares with them. Vera’s oldest brother, Darian, handed their mother a soft pink candle. It was the same shade of pink as the sky had been painted the previous night. The candle was carved into a mermaid sitting on a rock, a typical creation for the Baige Islanders. Vera’s mother reached out an old wrinkled hand and took the candle from Darian. A smile wrinkling her face just like her old weathered hand. Vera smiled as she watched her mother trace the mermaid’s hair.
“Vera, this is for you,” Darian said as he turned to her. He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a dagger. It wasn’t his dagger. This one had a purple crystal on the handle. A purple sapphire. Darian smiled cheekily as he handed it to her. As he did, the firelight caught on the blade and Vera saw what looked like an inscription. “For my Vera. Love Timothy.”
Vera smiled as well. It was a beautiful dagger. And the blacksmith’s son had made it just for her. She was Timothy’s Vera.