Rhodes and an eclipse
May. 5th, 2023 06:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lobelia321I am going on holiday to Pefkos on the Greek island of Rhodes tomorrow! It is my first solo holiday in all the sixty years of my life on Earth. I've been on hols with others. I've been on research trips and conference trips by myself. But never on an actual beach holiday.
So I have to get All The Assignments done before I fly. Here's my latest assignment, this one from the follow-up course to Dean Wesley's Smith's Writing in Depth course, the Writing Into the Dark course. The brief: 500 words of an opening, no dialogue, no action, a character and a solar eclipse.
Erica sat in her garden. It was four in the afternoon and the garden was still bathed in sun. By six or seven, the sun would have moved to the back, away from the wooden table and bench. In preparation for its movement, Erica had placed her folding chair at the very rear, right next to the conservatory where the grass was high and ants crawled across the hot paving stones. Yellow flowers whose names she didn't know crowded into the shaded bit under the birch tree.
A frog plopped into the pond that she'd made out of an old Belfast sink. She could see it from where she was sitting, underneath the rose bush, her naked feet on an upturned bicycle basket, a mug of milky tea balanced on the left arm of her chair. She hadn't bothered to dig a hole for the sink, just plonked it on the earth by the fig tree and waited for vegetation and wildlife to take over.
Her black cat stood at the edge of the pond, with its front paws on the rim of the sink and its back legs stretched long. Somewhere behind her, in the unweeded undergrowth, came the rustling of a hedgehog.
Erica took a sip from her tea. She'd forgotten to put the sugar in but couldn't be bothered getting up. An ant hurried across her shin. It felt like a little feathery kiss. She remembered when she used to lie face-down in the grass, among the sour smells of the soil, blades of grass tickling her nose, all manner of critters climbing over and around her, humming in her ears, biting her arms. Now that she was sixty she found that lying on the ground gave her an ache in her hip that could last for weeks. She preferred the folding chair.
She squinted at her phone. It was hard to see the video in this sunlight. She held the hand with the mug above it to shade the display. The video showed the solar eclipse that was happening across the world right now. Right now but not right here. It was eleven a.m. in the United States. People crowded onto balconies and rooftops and parking lots, all with dark glasses on their faces, some with pieces of cardboard that had one pierced hole in them. The light, as far as she could tell, was a dusky orange colour. She'd have thought an eclipse would plunge everything into total darkness but seemingly that wasn't so.
Odd to think that half-way round the planet from England, far away from her terraced house and garden in eastern Cambridge, there was a major celestial event happening. And all the while, here she sat, with nothing happening at all. Nothing much ever happened in her life. An ant on her leg, milk in her tea, sun glaring off her phone, the cat pouncing on something, a wasp trundling past her face -- that was about the extent of her life.
Orig fic. Whoa.
So I have to get All The Assignments done before I fly. Here's my latest assignment, this one from the follow-up course to Dean Wesley's Smith's Writing in Depth course, the Writing Into the Dark course. The brief: 500 words of an opening, no dialogue, no action, a character and a solar eclipse.
Erica sat in her garden. It was four in the afternoon and the garden was still bathed in sun. By six or seven, the sun would have moved to the back, away from the wooden table and bench. In preparation for its movement, Erica had placed her folding chair at the very rear, right next to the conservatory where the grass was high and ants crawled across the hot paving stones. Yellow flowers whose names she didn't know crowded into the shaded bit under the birch tree.
A frog plopped into the pond that she'd made out of an old Belfast sink. She could see it from where she was sitting, underneath the rose bush, her naked feet on an upturned bicycle basket, a mug of milky tea balanced on the left arm of her chair. She hadn't bothered to dig a hole for the sink, just plonked it on the earth by the fig tree and waited for vegetation and wildlife to take over.
Her black cat stood at the edge of the pond, with its front paws on the rim of the sink and its back legs stretched long. Somewhere behind her, in the unweeded undergrowth, came the rustling of a hedgehog.
Erica took a sip from her tea. She'd forgotten to put the sugar in but couldn't be bothered getting up. An ant hurried across her shin. It felt like a little feathery kiss. She remembered when she used to lie face-down in the grass, among the sour smells of the soil, blades of grass tickling her nose, all manner of critters climbing over and around her, humming in her ears, biting her arms. Now that she was sixty she found that lying on the ground gave her an ache in her hip that could last for weeks. She preferred the folding chair.
She squinted at her phone. It was hard to see the video in this sunlight. She held the hand with the mug above it to shade the display. The video showed the solar eclipse that was happening across the world right now. Right now but not right here. It was eleven a.m. in the United States. People crowded onto balconies and rooftops and parking lots, all with dark glasses on their faces, some with pieces of cardboard that had one pierced hole in them. The light, as far as she could tell, was a dusky orange colour. She'd have thought an eclipse would plunge everything into total darkness but seemingly that wasn't so.
Odd to think that half-way round the planet from England, far away from her terraced house and garden in eastern Cambridge, there was a major celestial event happening. And all the while, here she sat, with nothing happening at all. Nothing much ever happened in her life. An ant on her leg, milk in her tea, sun glaring off her phone, the cat pouncing on something, a wasp trundling past her face -- that was about the extent of her life.
Orig fic. Whoa.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-05 05:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-09 09:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-09 05:53 pm (UTC)I did enjoy the day at Rhodes a lot. In addition to the visit to the acropolis of Lindos, we spent time in the old town of Rhodes (where the ship docked) and toured the Palace of the Grand Masters with a really great guide, a woman who was born there and whose parents worked on the archaeological reconstructions; it was super interesting to learn about the 20th century history as well as the medieval history.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-09 06:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-09 07:26 pm (UTC)The Viking line is Norwegian and the officers and ship crew are generally Norwegian, but the (enormous) hospitality crew was nearly all Asian (a lot of Thai and Vietnamese, but really a mix) or African, and the musicians were mostly eastern European. There wasn't bingo, but there was a trivia quiz that was actually quite hard; there was a lot of music and some dances, for sure; and definitely a pool, and several hot tubs. It had the feel of an upscale hotel, with many bars, and piano music in the atrium, and history lectures (which were alas mostly a disappointment).
Viking markets mostly to 55+ US Americans (children are not allowed), though there were many people from various European countries and a few South Americans and Canadians, and a few dozen somewhat younger passengers also. We may be old (my six-decade birthday is this September, and B is 9 years older than I am) but we are much more physically fit than most people our ages, I think, and so discovering a "strenuous" rated excursion was e.g. just up the stairs to the Lindos Acropolis was a little jarring.
(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-14 03:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-05 08:57 pm (UTC)I hope you have a great holiday. I have travelled solo a fair bit and (whisper it) it's actually often more fun than in company. Have a wonderful time. Bon voyage! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-09 09:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-05 11:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-09 09:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2023-05-09 11:49 am (UTC)Sounds wonderful. Glad you had a great trip.