Picture Picture Song Prompt
Song: Loreena Mckennitt-The Highwayman
Picture 1: http://pinterest.com/pin/199495458463991642/
Picture 2: http://pinterest.com/pin/199495458463981215/
Word limit: Around 1000
Other limits: No dialogue, just description.
Extra Challenges: 1- Relate it to a trip to Ireland. 2- Relate it to the lyrics of the song.
Here is mine; don't read it until after you write yours if you plan on writing this prompt. If you do read it, tell me what you think, I love feedback. Thanks!
Picture 1: http://pinterest.com/pin/199495458463991642/
Picture 2: http://pinterest.com/pin/199495458463981215/
Word limit: Around 1000
Other limits: No dialogue, just description.
Extra Challenges: 1- Relate it to a trip to Ireland. 2- Relate it to the lyrics of the song.
Here is mine; don't read it until after you write yours if you plan on writing this prompt. If you do read it, tell me what you think, I love feedback. Thanks!
My mind wanders across the plains of Ireland as we speed along the moonlit road. I feel all-alone now that Mable has left for California. I would never have been to Ireland if it hadn’t been for Mable. I wouldn’t be here now with John. But I’m not thinking about the present, my mind reels now with memories.
We had always been friends, Mable and I. My mother worked for them and when we were young we used to play together. We didn’t know until we were older that there was any difference between us. It came as a shock when we learned that we weren’t supposed to be equal, because my skin was dark and hers was light.
Mable and I made a vow to each other in the summer when we were 11, to never leave each other alone. When my mother died later that year, I was going to be sent to an orphanage. Mable begged her mother to adopt me. She didn’t consent to that exactly, though now I look back I know she wanted to. She allowed me to stay if I worked as Mable’s maid and companion. Mable hated that I had to do work and didn’t let me do any cleaning in her room, doing it all herself.
Instead, we locked the door and spent that time together, laughing, reading fashion magazines, playing cat’s cradle and putting on mock plays with finger and hand puppets. When Mable turned 14, her father died and her mother went away to Ireland for an “extended vacation.”
On Mable’s 15th birthday, she received a letter from her mother with two tickets inside, one for me and one for her to join her in Ireland. We were to take a yearlong tour of the countryside with her. We got there just in time to learn that her mother was getting married to a rich Irishman, Mr. Gallagher the next week. That year was the best of my life; it was just Mable, Mr. Gallagher’s son (who was the same age as us), and I. We all became so close, closer than siblings.
It was the beginning of the end though when Mable decided she wanted to become an actress. She decided to try out for a play when we came back to New York. I remember we practiced together, John Gallagher read the part of her brother, and I of her stern mother. We had such fun together in the fields and forests of Ireland, just wandering. I remember that was the first time I had the fine clothes. I took off the last of my rags and maid’s clothes when I left America; my things were (and still are) just as fine as Mable’s.
When we got back to New York she got the part. I was so happy for her, and she was always smiling. She played in many plays, sometimes main part sometimes just as an extra. Then, she became involved with another actor. Walt was 20, three years older than Mable!
It wasn’t only that, I’d have been fine with it if it was just that. But he hit her. She would come home with bruises on her face and I would stay up with her until one or two in the morning while she cried, but she just crawled back to him the next day. Like a dog, blindly forgiving.
After her last performance, I was going to meet her in the alleyway behind the theatre. I was a bit late, as I had been caught in a throng going the other direction and had to take the long way around. I heard their voices, arguing about something. I rounded the corner just in time to see his fist come in contact with her jaw.
I just lost it; I jumped up and hit him in the back of the head. He turned and smashed me into the wall, yelling at me, calling me a dirty nigger. I managed to catch my breath for a moment and kick him in the back of the knee, making him double over. I then took up a bit of stray pipe and smashed it over his head, knocking him out.
I grabbed Mable and got out of there. The next day I sent a telegram to John and bought a train ticket to Long Island where he and Mr. and Mrs. Gallagher lived. We spent the summer there. I got the feeling that John and Mable spent a few nights together, but she was still hung up over Walt. I know I spent more than a few nights with him. Lying in the moonlight in the dewy grass, surrounded by trees, I could almost imagine that we were back in Ireland, lying in the grass counting stars and constellations.
At the end of the summer Mable revealed that she had received a letter from someone some time ago that had seen her act, he had invited her to come to Hollywood to be in the movies. That was five months ago. She left for California then. Four months ago John and I took off in his Automobile. Where? I don’t know. We just drive. We are about a day away from Chicago now if we don’t change course again.
We reach Chicago in three days. We decide to go see a movie, and when we go into the theatre not even knowing what we are watching, we are greeted by Mable’s face on the screen. We share a glance but just watch the film. We don’t speak as we leave the theatre; we just get in the car and go. I don’t try to wipe away the tears, one tear for each memory. I’m leaving all the memories behind; my mind is filling with thoughts of the future.
Neither of us say but we both know where we’re going, we’re going to Hollywood, to see Mandy. Mandy, who did better than all of us and went to live her dream.
Link: http://figment.com/books/337838-A-Star-in-the-Skys-of-Ire
Thank you all and happy writing!
~Page O'Hara~
Link: http://figment.com/books/337838-A-Star-in-the-Skys-of-Ire
Thank you all and happy writing!
~Page O'Hara~
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