top of page

Writing Extract: Madala's Grace

The opening moments of a story I intended to write for my postgraduate before deciding to write parTy instead. A project fully mapped in my mind, just not on the page.

 

It’s a strange sensation, to burn and freeze at the same time. The blisters on my hands, face, and exposed feet burned with the fire of the sun while my bones shook with cold. The only part of my skin that didn’t burn was glued by ice to the book I clung to my chest.

 

The pursuit of the book was what saved my life, of that much I was certain. I’d finally been permitted access to the most ancient, sacred texts. It was no coincidence that it was that day the Fingers crushed my home.

 

There was water in my mouth, the salt of it stung fresh blisters inside my cheeks. I rolled my head and regurgitated into the rush of water. My raft creaked, the solid ice threatening to split in two. Through my closed eyelids, crusted by sea salt, I relived the moment the Fingers fell. The distant creak that rolled to a thundering crush. Screams drowned first by the sound of shattering ice and then by the water that filled their mouths.

 

I forced my eyes open. The ice that had glued them shut threatened to tear my eyelids apart, but I managed it. The sky above me was grey. Dark clouds covered the sky in all directions, making solar navigation impossible. I would need to rely on landmarks to guide myself south.

 

As I carefully glanced either side of myself, careful not to rock my ice raft, I noticed there were no landmarks. There was no town square. No library. No poultry farms. No land to speak of. Just ice. A slurry of water and ice had swallowed my home. No. It has crushed my home.

 

The library was designed so that all the windows faced North, towards the Fingers. Small windows were dotted East and West to allow greater sunlight, but North was the building’s main focus. Five enormous ice tendrils, reaching into the sky, protecting Cuticus Point from the ancient evil that lay beyond.

 

People must be warned. I couldn’t do that lying down, drifting, and lost with nought but an ancient tome to guide me.


Thumbnail for Madala's Grace first extract

コメント


bottom of page