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Monday, May 20, 2013

Writing Challenge With Author, Asya Pekurovskaya!!

The Challenge:
In 2500 words or less, create a fairy tale!

The Result:
Tess, The Daughter of the Dwarves' King
By, Asya Pekurovskaya

There are days when everything crops up as stated by your wishes. The sun sends its gentle rays your way.  The buds of cherry tree branches develop into flowers right before your eyes, and the critters tip off their knitted hats, greeting you with reverence.

            Tim hurried up. Yet on his way he had to shake the paw of Ben, the crocodile, bow Humphrey the cat and catch up with the mouse Bertha, who dropped a velvet purse with blue lapis lazulites.

            In his pocket he carried a map of the area. In his backpack there was his favorite, ball- shaped donut filled with cherry jam.

            From time to time an idea popped up in his head that it would be marvelous to eat that donut right now. But apart from donut, he had nothing to eat. Yet he had a long way to go.

            You probably want to know where he was going.

            But, sad to say, he did not really know that himself. That is, he knew, of course, that he ought to find a colossal diamond, which was stored in the underground kingdom of the dwarves. But he had not the slightest idea of how to get there.

            He thought of the map, to be sure. However... although he had already learned to read and could read long book titles such as: "Get your spoonful of boon/ "With the fibs from Medoon," he had never had a chance to read a map.

            But things you have never done before, better not to start now, especially if they have an impact on your cherished journey.

            And Tim started to look for a passer-by who had had to deal with the map before.
           
            “I should have asked the crocodile Ben. He lives on the lake and promenades in the cherry alley every day. If he did not know how to read a map, he would have already get lost.

            Tim went after the crocodile, mentally, needless to say, and assured himself the crocodile had already made it home and, after putting on his bathing suit, taken a dip freestyle to the other shore.

            But the time to think about Ben, the crocodile, run out very quickly. Right before Tim’s eyes a butterfly fluttered in a strange pirouette.

            The butterfly moved its proboscis, then turned it into a tube and started spinning it like a ballerina.

            Tim stared at the butterfly, forgetting everything, including his backpack in which a donut was waiting for him filled with cherry jam. And the butterfly seems to catch sight of him, as well.

            And here is what happened next.

            Apparently, very tired, the butterfly–ballerina perched on an open flower of the cherry tree and stretched her antennas which turned to be delicate arms, in Tim’s direction.

            When the butterfly–ballerina’s arms reached out to Tim, they gently took his both hands and lifted off the ground.

            And they flew, picking up speed.

            “But I have absolutely no time for a flight. I am not promenading, I am escorting myself,” said Tim and looked displeased at his companion.

            “Why did you decide that I was promenading?” the butterfly–ballerina replied.

            “Yet our ways may not cross,” Tim said and immediately regretted it. After all, he wanted his ways to always cross with the ways of this beautiful butterfly–ballerina.

            “Why do they not cross?” the butterfly corrected him. “You're Tim, are not you? And if you guess my name, I will help you find the underground kingdom of the dwarves, and even show you the way to the magic diamond that ...”

            “But how do you know about the magic diamond? This is my very private secret,” interrupted Tim.

            “Akh, you do not think it straight and loose time,” the butterfly ballerina said in a melancholy voice.

            But instead of stopping to loose time, that is, instead of guessing the name of his companion, Tim started to carelessly compose a poem about her.

            And here is what he devised:

            To create a butterfly
            Someone modeled on the sly
            A dynamic flying shirt
            Trendy pants, TP, for short,
            Borrowed petals, light and awesome
            From the most entrancing blossom.

            And to demonstrate her gown,
            Baby circled twice her town:
            Paid a visit to her mates,
            Garbed both chic and up to date.

            Munched her breakfast at the daisies,
            Lunched with indolent and lazy
            Clovers. Then she turned her keel
            To bluebells for an evening meal.
           
            To complete her trying cruise
            Got prepared for a snooze:
            Funneled her fatigued proboscis,
            Mutely closed her wings, don’t ask us
            Why...

            But then something happened, causing Tim to immediately regret his careless distraction.

            His companion had disappeared, and he flew down rapidly, like a stone.

            He certainly got hurt, but not as much so as not to see that he landed downright on a flower bed, caught between two amazing, utterly exotic plants ...

            “What a pity the butterfly–ballerina will not see this beauty!” flashed through his mind. And when he got up to look more closely at the flowers, they seem to have bowed their heads towards him and kept gazing at him in response.

            Once again, Tim reminisced about the butterfly–ballerina. Only now did he realize that she looked at him the same way as these flowers, that is, not with her eyes, which he had not even noticed, but with her entire body.

            Only the entire body of this mysterious plant did not embrace its wings and proboscis like the body of butterfly–ballerina. All it had were leaves that were looking up, like pointed spears, and petals of pink and lilac color resembling those of a lily.

            As he glued his eyes to the remarkable plant, Tim noticed, in the very convergence of petals, yet another yellow flower, around which a fence of pistils grew which had all the hallmarks of a very dark lilac flower.

            “I've never seen flowers with such colorful eyes. But what if these are not flowers at all, but enchanted dwarves?”  Tim guessed. And as soon as he made this guess he noticed a brass plate, which denoted something in an unknown language.

            “Who could conceive hanging a sign that can not be read?” Tim said out loud.

            But as he expressed his astonishment, he detected a miniature table, on top of which someone dumped .... No, to grasp that was beyond Tim’s fancy. But it was exactly so. The plausible dwarf seem to have forgotten his ... reading glasses, on the table.

            “May I...?” Tim asked the dwarf, and, without waiting for an answer, reached for the glasses.

            The plausible owner of the magic glasses dropped no word in reply.

            “I can see you don’t mind,” Tim said and rushed to put on the glasses. But as soon as he mounted them on his nose, everything transformed around him.

            The sky acquired a pale lilac color, yet the flowers grew blue and white and started to emit some captivating smells. It even occurred to Tom  that flattering among the flowers was a silhouette of his beautiful butterfly–ballerina.

            And when he finally saw the brass plate, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The inscription read: “Passiflora, the flower of suffering.”

            “The flower of suffering,” Tim repeated like an echo, and the glasses flew from his nose.“Flowers can not cause suffering. And if there is an enchanted dwarf hiding in a flower, one needs to make sure he was no longer there.”

            But as soon as Tim pieced together the future fate of the enchanted and the plausible dwarf, a fence began to grow around them. And something was very strange.

            The space inside the fence was arranged in such a way that the bed with the Passiflora flowers was stretching along the path and turning right, whereas next to the bed there appeared a new path that curved left and stretched all the way to the summit.

            “If I do not follow the Passifora flowers I will avoid suffering,  Tim thought.

            “Then change your course to the left,”  Tim heard the same voice.

            He looked around. Not a soul was seen on all sides.
           
            “How will I climb this huge mountain? Besides, the kingdom of the dwarves is in the dungeon,” Tim replied.

            “So, you have already made your choice,” the voice continued calmly.

            “I made no choice. I am at a crossroads. Do not you see?

            An alarming silence fell over them.

            “Someone is trying me. It could be the glasses that returned from their exile. They must be magical,” Tim thought.

            “Akh, you do not think it straight and loose time,” the voice warned him.

            “Somewhere I have heard this warning,” Tim thought. 

            But it was too late. He fell down again, and when he landed, he immediately recognized the area.

            It was impossible not to recognize it. After all, Tim saw himself walking down the road that led from his own home.

            He was in a rush. Yet he had to shake the paw of Ben, the crocodile, bow Humphrey the cat and catch the mouse Bertha, who dropped a velvet purse with blue lapis lazulites.

            And when he fumbled the area map in his pocket and assured himself that his favorite, ball–shaped donut filled with cherry jam was still in his backpack, a very unhappy thought flashed in his mind.

            “I will never get to the underground kingdom of the dwarves and get a magic diamond. Instead of going forward, I came right back.

            “But you still have one more chance,” Tim heard the familiar voice.

            “How wonderful it is that magic glasses have not left me,” Tim thought.

            “If you prepare a new challenge for me, I will listen, I will waste no time and I will not miss anything. I even will agree to take the path to the left, although climbing a vertical trail is very difficult, almost imposs ...

            “We’ll check it now,” the glasses interrupted Tim, “Did you chat with the daughter of the Dwarves’ King?”

            “I conversed with the butterfly–ballerina. Is she the daughter...?”


            “You talked to her, not knowing her name, and did not even try to guess it,” the glasses hurried to continue, ignoring Tim’s question. “It was not polite and also quite annoying. After all, from your figuring out her name depended your joint destiny. Now the princess is imprisoned in the tower, and you have lost access to the diamond, which is locked in her casket.”

            “This is terrible! She needs help!  Promptly! But how could I reveal her name? Names are plentiful, and they are all different ... Her name is Tess!” Tim blurted.

            If he was told a moment ago that he could effortlessly guess the name of the unknown princess, he would have never believed it.

            “But who said I really had guessed her name?” flashed through Tim’s head.

            “Well, you guessed it right.  Now, there is very little you have to do. You will have to liberate the princess and find the key to her casket. Remember: the key is placed on the wrong side of one of the copper mirrors in the Kingdom of dwarves.

For More On Asya Pekurovskaya:
 

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