There was none of the usual crisp cleanliness about the moonlight. It entered the coast-guard's cottage in the way that warm breath becomes visible on a cold night; a presence which comes from nowhere, hovers in the air like phosphorescence for a moment before it disperses and lets the blackness rule...
Outside, rising winds chased clouds which raced from their grasp like naughty children evading bed time. But there was no fun attached to their game. Instead, a sense of foreboding was tangible in the air that night.
Thanks go to Tess and Andrew Wyeth for their inspiration at Mag 144
Oh, I really like the imagery of breath becoming visible on cold nights.
ReplyDeleteForeboding, indeed.
We, and a lot of others, went through that a week or two ago...
ReplyDeleteSo evocative...you took me there...
ReplyDeleteGood descriptive writing.
ReplyDeleteI think you took Wyeth to where he wanted you to go!
ReplyDeletehi a great introduction to a haunting story.
ReplyDeleteso aptly described what I have seen on a cold windy night here in the moonlit mountains
ReplyDeleteWhat makes us sense more than just a little weather from the mother storm coming ashore. Your description opens the question.
ReplyDeleteI love how you are able to alter the image to suit your story. A squall should feel dark and foreboding--images of 'A Perfect Storm' in this. Well penned.
ReplyDeleteThanks...But that sounds back to front, for it's altering the image that nudges me into writing words that fit!
DeleteChilling ... you were able to alter Wyeth to suit your own poetic direction. Loved it!!
ReplyDelete"Naughty children avoiding bedtime" cool, and they have the giggles?!
ReplyDeleteDare I say that I preferred your illustration to the original? You're so lucky to be able to marry poetry and art.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the compliment RR - I think altering the balance of the composition did the trick, then using a darker palette provided the menace. :)
DeleteEnjoyed this... so creative!
ReplyDeleteThis one drew me right in...and I love what you did with the artwork, too.
ReplyDeleteGreat job.
=)
I do not know why, but suddenly, I am drawn back to Daphne du Maurier and her Frenchman's Creek....
ReplyDeleteOh my- it was certainly real for me!
ReplyDeletea little nip and tuck and the whole mood changes! Nicely done... the impending storm is definitely felt!
ReplyDeleteAn intense write Jinksy! :-)
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your imagery.
ReplyDeleteWell penned Jinksy - I want more...
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
Brrrrr....I'm getting chills just siting here! Lovely description!
ReplyDeleteIt was a dark and stormy...you surely took me there. And yes, those are coat pegs, hangnails are likely found on hands. however, I adjusted some words and twisted a bit. :)
ReplyDeleteKeep the lighthouse burning!
ReplyDelete