Janustory Wrap Up 2018

 
Another Janustory in the bag! I never really know where these stories will go until about midway through the month. I hope you have enjoyed my annual attempt to re-energize creativity and good writing habits. Because life is a journey with many twists and turns, I decided to include a photo of a staircase. Which way are you going? What will you find when you arrive?

1. Walking.
2. Bone-weary trekking.
3. Blisters have popped.
4. Sunrise lights boulders pearly.
5. Rain at last has ceased.
6. First farmhouse welcomes me with tea.
7. Desperate for news, trinkets are swept aside.
8. The family lines up to hear my tale.
9. Acrid smoke stings my eyes from the smoldering fire.
10. The baronial war is finally over, but not the famine.
11. Their narrow faces mirror mine as we commiserate over the harvest.
12. Mysterious fragrant blood-red flowers have been springing up where battles were fought.
13. The farmer worries as cattle, sheep, and goats are sickening in the fields.
14. His six children have been warned to stay close to the house and barn.
15. I’ve heard strange rumors of weird sights in copses that saw battle on misty nights.
16. The weary farmer confirms my growing fears and we discuss how to banish the troubled ghosts.
17. As the twilight gathers in the corners of the kitchen, we line up the banishing spell ingredients.
18. Jonathan, the young farmer, has rounded up some neighbors to assist in freeing their fields from these hauntings.
19. The ancient wisewoman who gave me the receipt to dispel ghosts and evil beings promised me it would work.
20. The oil-soaked torches are carefully lit as the men kiss their loved ones before we head to the ragged copse.
21. While walking across the freshly harvested fields, the uneven footing is very treacherous and we slow down to a careful crawl.
22. Hands shaking, I construct a small fire from broken ash, oak, and thorn twigs, managing to light it on the first try.
23. Into a dented iron cauldron, I swiftly pour each pre-measured ingredient following the exact order hastily written on a scrap of old parchment.
24. As the autumn stars begin to light the night’s darkness, I finish adding the last herbs, a thick greenish smoke pouring from the cauldron.
25. As the smoke tumbled over the cauldron’s sides and rippled oily into the scattering of trees, my stalwart comrades took up banging pots and buckets.
26. The spell fog purled through the tangled underbrush and swirled around our ankles as we shouted and pounded a fierce racket to scare the unquiet ghosts.
27. As we hooted and hollered ourselves hoarse, hundreds of pairs of angry wicked red eyes flickered up into the air, dancing ahead of the creeping greenish smoke.
28. The stalwart rustic souls continued with their motley cacophony as the twinkling crimson eyes sharpened and began to dash erratically through the trees ahead of the spell fog.
29. In one perfectly choreographed fluid motion, the sparking scarlet eyes swirl and spin into a fiery red tornado and reverse course toward our determined band of weary, frightened defenders.
30. The wisewoman’s treacherous spell smoke seemed only to deeply enrage the hideous tormented spirits as we fled bumbling and stumbling through the thin trees, running for our tiny precious lives.
31. Now as a cloud-streaked dawn shimmers peach golden on the horizon, I lie stretched and broken on the cold rocky ground as a red-eyed demon devours me, beginning with my toes.