In late February, I received an email detailing rules for a homeschool writing contest. The contest was five dollars and I decided to enter, because why not? I submitted The Choice, a story I’ve already published but my entry was updated.
The awards night was tonight, though I already knew who won. This was more of an opportunity to share our work (if we were the winners).
I can’t handle building up anymore, so here’s the big reveal.
I’m proud of this metal, and I got a certificate too, but it’s got my name on it so no sharing. I have also decided to make this post with my updated entry. I’m also going to leave the other entry up as a comparison for the two. I guess it could be considered a form of posterity or just an interesting comparison of how minute details can make a story better.
The Choice – Wysteria Campion
When I was a child, I was given a choice. I sat at a table, a single light shining down on me, the rest of the room in pitch darkness outside the pool of light. In front of me lay a brown, leather backed volume, with ancient parchment inside, and to its right lay a simple fountain pen which was lying on top of a piece of paper. I was told to choose the Book or the pen to determine my destiny. To choose my path and my life. I was allowed to pick up each object, and I picked up the book.
Inside to my dismay, was page upon page of mathematical theorems. Numbers and charts in aged ink filled the parchment which crinkled as I turned the page. The parchment was yellowed and I marveled at how they remained intact. The ink was dried and in perfect condition. No pages stuck together, there were no blots, just perfectly straight lines of cursive letters and numbers in two-inch margins, straight as a ruler. I attempted to read the small script accompanying several of the problems, but my head swam as they described processes that left the realm of words and into the world of single numbers and letters. I closed my eyes and sighed. I shut the book and smelled it, expecting the pleasing smell of an old book, but instead coughing at the dust that was shoved into my lungs. I stroked the cover, but the rough surface was rigid, cold, and unpleasant. I set it down. This book was not for me.
I then picked up the pen and rested it on the paper. It was warm and I gripped it tightly. My brain had thought to move the pen, but before my hand could execute the order, I saw visions. I stood on the ocean waters, the churning water calm only beneath my feet. I looked up to see a four-masted ship rose on tall waves, which crashed back into the water, threatening to break the ship. I could hear the creaking and moaning of the boards, the howls, and shouts of the sailors above the wind and water. Thunder crackled and lightning flashed, and I blinked rapidly as the light engulfed me.
I was standing next to a fat old king, in the grandstand of a tournament. The knights below shimmered in the noon sun, their horses pawing restlessly on the ground. The crowd placing bets, and cheering before the joust begins. As the knights ran together, they rattled and clanked, the horse’s hooves pounded the dry ground sending dust into the air. The crowd went silent and then a cheer as one of the knights is thrown from his horse, onto the ground. I began to clap and cheer when the sun was obscured by a large object.
I was drawn up to the shape, captured by a bright green light, floating up to the object. I was dropped in a white sterile room, robots whirled around, probing here, repairing there, even cleaning the already pristine floor. A man in a shiny silver space suit walked up to me and handed me a set of similar garb. I stepped into it and we walked into what was obviously the cockpit. I sat next to the man, who was clearly the captain.
“All ready for launch?” he asked his crew.
I tugged on his sleeve and asked, “What’s out there?”
He laughed. “The great unknown.” And the ship lurched forward, and the pinpoints of light visible through the window became bright streak-like ribbons, and the entire cockpit became white.
Multiple colors, images, feelings, sounds, and smells raced past me. I felt worlds built from dust rise and fall. Kingdoms conquer and thrive; people live their lives, ; weather changed on a whim. Skies fall and empires rise, spreading like an infestation upon an unknown planet, just to have it destroyed by an unknown voice. All of these sensations rushed upon me and everything turned black.
I blinked and I was back in my chair, in the pool of light lit by the lamp. The pen still hadn’t made a mark on the clean page. I wrote a few words on the page, and left it for all to see:
“I choose the pen.”
I hope you enjoyed!! Original Post: The Choice
