Getting used to existing as — near as he could figure — a ghost, was odd at first for the Scottish mage. A jovial man, he missed the excitement of being part of and even instigating high drama in the human condition; since his transformation, the energy needed to work his will on the physical realm was exhausting.
He became a watcher instead, randomly sliding like a sigh from one scenario to the next, noticed only by the most perceptive as a dappling through summer shade, the rattle of autumn leaves across wooded dirt paths, or the glittering space between frosty bursts of winter wind.
Decades passed, and through his loneliness, the Scotsman developed a small spark of empathy for those he observed, often returning to the sewer walkway beneath the robber-baron’s mansion to contemplate in detached, logical reflection of what life might mean to others.
It would have remained detached reflection, had not a young man, a folklorist with a shaggy mop of hair, rangy limbs, a keen intelligence and sharp ambition, accompanied by a sense of reckless adventure, entered his realm by taking up a mallet and chisel to strike his brass plaque from the wall, sending it and half the tunnel tumbling.
The young man had caught the plaque before it slithered into the quickly moving sewer water, read aloud most of the runes inscribed, and just like that, the two men were sharing space in the half-realm created by the mage’s spell.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2022)
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “STRIKE”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories
Dang! I was just enjoying the description of his new existence and then along comes a folklorist. And a twist.
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Turning it back to its origins…?
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My first through here was of the Fae, though I might be biased….
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There’s magic and the mystic woven throughout this series. So your impulse was spot on!
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I don’t pretend to understand the story. But I think we all have a reaction on first read of a SSS.
We all are detached and lonely – wandering and wondering what life means to others and to ourselves. No rescue insight.
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I’m glad you’re able to connect…that’s the most important thing!
This is the 14th week of writing 2 posts a week for this serial story. I keep having to go back to remember details, Lol. I’m curious to see how it holds together as a whole — with a few tweaks — once I write the concluding post. 🤔
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I seem to be simpatico with Doug, for me, my ‘damn! I wish I’d come up with that’ line is: …’sliding like a sigh”
Such a simple four words, but so evocative!
half-realm? all-right! lets hear more!
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Stop by tomorrow & see!
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WOW…good story, and for some reason I’m fixated on the “spark of empathy”–I can relate to that, which I found can be fanned into greater flame 🙂
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Yes, but gently…gently. 😉
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Duly noted.
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You’re taking us, and them, on such a grand adventure!
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A dead Scotsman in a ghost story, Liz?
Nah, that’s stretching credulity too far!
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From dark star to mere shadow, to dead Scotsman? Why not? 😉😂
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I like that twist! And I also like the idea of him being a watcher, with just hints of his presence available to those who notice. I’ve often wondered if that isn’t the way things work……
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(Yeah, had to bring the side story back to the main event. Flip!!)
In some ways, we can all be watchers. And the question becomes about how to influence toward the greater good. Perhaps?
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Such great use of language, Liz. You carry the reader along beautifully.
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Thank you, Jenne!
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you make me want to travel…to the highlands
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I like these sixes for this reason, Liz! You can dip in and out of all sorts of different realms in such a short time, and feel like you’ve spent a lot longer there! Fabulous!
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So many opportunities…
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The Scottish mage continues. Reading those runes shows the power of words.
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Oh I like that lesson!
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Liz, I already told you but let me once again: I love the neuron synapsis of your brain cells.
And…absolutely what Doug said!
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Thank you! (Bzzt…snap!)
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In awe of this inspired passage, Liz. ‘He became a watcher instead, randomly sliding like a sigh from one scenario to the next, noticed only by the most perceptive as a dappling through summer shade, the rattle of autumn leaves across wooded dirt paths, or the glittering space between frosty bursts of winter wind.’ Yours is a rare talent. I mean it in the best possible way when I say I don’t care where this saga is going as long as I van read gems like this along the way.
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Thank you so much, Doug. I’m glad you’re enjoying the journey! ❤
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