Dancers - #writephoto

Dancers – #writephoto

The Wicker Three

A metallic taste caught my attention and a bright white afterglow in my eyes caused me to squint, but the next thing, as I slowly regained my senses, was the blurred outline of three wicker figures that stood in front of me.

The effects of the blinding flash started to fade away, but my senses were still a muddle. I stuck my tongue out and tried to wipe the taste on to my hand, but got nothing but a touch of cold saliva. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment and then opened them. My focus returned and although dazed the sight of the wooden outlines pressed into my mind.

My heart started to race,  my face painfully strained, and my eyes wide open. There were my three teachers, well, at least what was left of them.

“Oh God, what did I do! They just asked me to add some colour!”

I dashed closer, looked around them and saw only the delicate weave of branches and vines. A mountain of experience wrapped up and forever lost in a dance of wood.

Glancing around me and straining my eyes into the distance there was no one in sight, and this was perhaps a good thing. My mind racing first to what I would tell the elders.

“You took me on! I didn’t even want to train… No! I should not complain. I will speak the truth!”

It was the tradition I was told and I could be famous… Well, I reckon I will have fame now! Even if I didn’t want it.

I guess I had mixed the die of eve, with the green of oak. I can’t remember, I wasn’t really paying attention and they were so into their dance. A funny dance I thought at that, but I guess they will be remembered for it.

Looking over their wooden stances, it was a though their motions still flowed through them, swaying, holding hands, and a sensation of awe was projected, as though they were leaning back and forward whilst they took in the sun.

I shall call it a monument and although it wasn’t exactly what they were looking for, we all know the risks of magic. And it is not the first time such a thing has happened.

They look gracious, and will forever be remembered as wise teachers, noble folk and perhaps a little unfortunate.

Balzizar! His smile, wrinkles of experience and soft white beard popped up in my mind. Gentle, wise and forgiving. I will talk to him first. He is always understanding and didn’t particularly get along with them. A better person to start with than any.

Now I must dash and tell the others!



This is a short story written for Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt