Writing Pilates

My lovely sister picked our writing exercise this week. View the surroundings from a new vantage point. To see her version please click here. And so without further ado…

View the Surroundings from a New Vantage Point

Bosomella was in darkness. Near darkness at least. Tiny pricks of light broke through the sequined coin purse, making her prison look like a star crusted strip of sky. The purse bounced along to the rhythm of a pony’s footfalls and soft tufts of the beast’s hair kept poking though, prodding her in the back. Miss Borka must have lived a fair distance from Madam Beautific’s School of Princessdom, for they journeyed through the entire day and into the night. The smell of glurk blossoms sweetened the air and occasionally the pony shivered as the roar of gnashly beasts echoed against stone walls. Perhaps they traveled through the mountains or down a canyon or into one of those terrible walled monasteries. But there was definitely stone at their backs.

They trudged on. And not even the thought of the gnashly beasts snuffling after their footprints could divert Bosomella from the frantic circle of her thoughts. A slave… Just like her grandmother. A slave, until she completed her task. A slave. But with such a task… Bomomella pressed her hand hard into her mouth hoping that the wretched Miss Borka would somehow fail to hear her weeping.