Thursday, January 17, 2013
I realized this morning that I had no idea what to blog about today. Usually I already have a post planned out in my head the night before but today...
So, what better to write about when you've nothing to write about? The fact that you've nothing to write about perhaps? Life in this neck of the woods is pretty boring right about now. Nothing fancy pants here.
Then it hit me; I haven't done a creative writing exercise in a while....meh, here goes nothing. I'm going to make this up as I go. No topic, nothing....Prepare for the spaz attack.
Florkin collapsed against the stone wall and slowly slid to the floor, broken down and defeated; despair oozing from every pore of his body. He had failed his people. What was left of his Kingdom would soon be at war as King Flindell wanted to take his place as King and join their two lands as one. He couldn't blame Flindell, Florb was slowly becoming an inhabitable country. The trees were dying, water was diminishing, Florbanites everywhere were dying faster than they could keep track of. Soon, there would be nothing left.
What did Flindell want with Florkin's kingdom though? This is what he couldn't figure out. His lands had been hit the hardest. His people were ill and there were virtually no resources left; what could Flindell possibly want with such a barren land? How could Florkin justify losing even more lives in battle? Yet his people were adamant, they did not want to surrender. Flindell had a terrible reputation as King and no one wanted to be under his rule.
Flindell fell back behind his ranks, he could feel it coming and he didn't want to be seen. He was ill, but he couldn't let his people know this. They would rebel and kill him while he was weak. He was hated throughout his lands and was deemed a tyrant that would not allow basic florbanite rights and created new laws on a whim. Flindell felt as though it was the only way to keep everyone alert, aware, and ultimately under his control. He was notorious for murdering those that disobeyed his orders and broke his laws.
Florkin's land had been rumored to have a special plant that could heal him. He wanted it, no needed it and would go to any lengths to obtain it. Flindell had become obsessed with getting his hands on this plant. Finally, he couldn't keep it in any longer, looked around and saw no one. Relieved, he allowed himself to let his guard down as he double over in pain as a rumbling cough made it's way through his chest shaking his entire body and spewing blood at his feet. He was getting worse.
Though Flindell thought he was alone, someone had seen and heard. Word spread through the troops as they marched on. A plan began to form.
Florkin and his men, numbering no more than fifty ruefully watched Flindell and his troops approach. Their number at least tripled his and all looked healthy. This was it. He and his men had accepted their fate, but refused to go down without a fight. As they drew their weapons to prepare for this slaughter, something strange happened. Flindell's men drew their weapons, then turned against him. He went down easily and his men cheered in victory.
Ok, you can probably tell that I'm already tired of writing this...I'm taking the easy way out. The two lands ended up banding together anyways and Flindell's people allowed Florkin to be their King. They replenished his kingdom, blah blah blah, happy ending.
The best part is probably that it's over
Yup, I tried to tell you people,
I frequently question my sanity. This story is actually pretty normal for me. I once wrote about non-perishable food items that fell in love romeo and juliet style (one was a fruitcake and the other was a marshmellow...obviously their families clashed and they weren't allowed to be in love), tried to take over the world, thwart super heros with egg beaters, and then both died a terrible death of drowning in strawberry soda.