An extract from Samuel Rice

Something a bit different today, this photograph (along with many quiet foggy nights at the same train station) inspired a full novel! Currently there is about a third written and I'm working on the rest! Below is the opening chapter, a sneak preview if you will!

The wind whistles through the gaps in the metal, ducking beneath lights and rolling over steel. To the East the sky is clear, mulled wine clouds set against the grey blue of Earth’s walls. To the West a thick fog is creeping in, engulfing concrete and track as it tumbles forward. A girl stands alone in the centre of the platform. Her midnight hair dances in the wind. She silently stares into the oncoming fog, waiting. There is no need to look anywhere else, she knows there are no trains running through this station anymore. Still she stares out into nothing. A moment of lasting stillness finally passes and the fog begins to glow internally.

The girl does not stir, this unscheduled arrival is right on time. Her sight is locked on the approaching beam. No nerves flow through her body tonight, she knows what she must do and how it must be done. Soon a solid rustic train will burst through the fog and carry her on her journey, oh, but how sweet that journey will be. The train is piercing the fog now all the grooves are visible but the train does not stop, it has no reason to pause here, there are no people boarding and there haven’t been for some time. Suddenly the girl moves, so quick if you blinked you would miss it. She is running full pelt towards the moving carrier.

There is feeling in her still steady heart now. Recognition has set in, this is what she lives for and she doesn’t fear the risk anymore. Just as she approaches the platform edge she jumps and reaches for one of the groves in the trains exterior design. Fingers gripping tightly she is able to pull her body up and over the train. Landing on the roof with a softened thud the wind throws a curve ball and sends her skidding backwards towards the gap between the carriages. She inhales quick and hard, turning her foot so that the grips on the soles of her shoe catch those on the train. It doesn’t take much effort for her to stop, despite the wind playing rough tonight. The wind howls in dismay as it looses the battle.

“Jealous?” She whispers, her voice faint and tumbling softly through the air. She rearranges herself and finds the most comfortable place to sit a train roof has to offer. A flicker of light teases the shadows as she lights a cigarette. It’s going to be a long journey.

Further down the line there is a boy walking along the disused track. He has no reason to panic, no trains come this way anymore. Why would they?  She sees him a long while before he sees the train. She can smell him on the wind miles away. She was hoping he would move, but he hasn’t. He is going to freeze in shock, she just knows it. 

“For fucks sake, this is all I need!” She curses to herself and throws her cigarette down on the roof. The boy is still unaware when she begins to battle against the winds to reach the front of the train. He kicks a rock and sighs deeply as he does so, his gaze wanders and is caught by a faint glow in the distance. He squints but can’t make out a distinct shape, even on this clear night, it’s too far. She is sprinting now, almost at the front, she can see him clearly, he can’t see her, the train light is shinning right into his face. He realises too late that there is an unscheduled, incredibly large and deathly quiet train flying toward him, he freezes. Just like she knew he would. 

“Fucking typical!” She manages before she bolts from the roof and knocks him clear of the tracks. Within seconds she is back up and hurtling after the train. The boy is unconscious and she throws him onto the roof. She hopes he doesn’t roll off the other side, that would really make her angry. Instead he lands with a bone crunching thud and she grapples the side of the train to make her way back up. 

“Broken bones are better than dead at least.”

She would, no should, have left him but this stretch of track is deserted and no-one would find him unconscious and cold until it was too late. Later she will regret what she has to inevitably drag him through tonight, but she will worry about that later. Right now she has to realign his dislocated shoulder, at least it’ll bring him round quicker.

Samuel Rice Copyright of Lucy Marsh 16/07/2012

Rainbow Barrier

A story inspired by a picture which led to an illustration

"Look!" cried Harry from the back seat of the car. Jason turned ever so slightly to see why Harry was suddenly so excited after what seemed like hours of constant crying.
"Bow, bow!" Harry continued.
"Rainbow, yeah I see it." Jason replied.
"Isn't it beautiful Harry!" said their mother.
"Keep your eyes on the road please mum." Jason joked.
His mother lent over and slapped his thigh.
"Don't be so cheeky. Tell your brother about all the gold you can find at the end of a rainbow." she mocked.
"There is no gold." Jason stated bluntly. Harry was still consumed by the bright colours shining in through the rain droplets and onto his face. Both hands pressed against the window pane he was desperately trying to evade his seat belt.
"Calm down little man. You can't touch the rainbow."
"Why?" Harry shouted scrunching up his face. Jason caught his mum give him a look and instantly knew that he had opened a can of worms. Thinking fast he delved into the story of the rainbow barriers.

This is what Jason told Harry, a boy whose eyes were wide with wonder and ears open to every word.

When the world first began the elements were much more harsh to Earth than they are now. Winds uprooted trees daily, the sun baked the ground until it was cracked and shrivelled. Snow, frost and rain beat the earth, teasing it with moisture and thunder ruled the skies, striking down any trees missed by the winds with sharp electric lightning.
Seeing that the earth couldn't take much more of these abominable forces the Gods gathered to decide the fate of this one planet. Intellect ruled, the Gods were responsible for the elements and knew that they were each needed and could not be destroyed. The answer to their problems came from an unlikely source. Rain, as so named by the God of snow, frost and down pours, suggested the Gods make a number of barriers to prevent the severe weathering of Earth. Allowing the elements small passage to inject Earth with it's daily needs.
"This idea could work, you have inherited your father's intelligence!" Proclaimed the God of heat and sun.
And so, using a bow and arrow, Rain fired twists of beautiful colours into the sky all over Earth's surface.
"They shall remain hidden until Rain has visited and the God of sun illuminates their colours."
"And we shall call them Rain's bows, for he alone envisaged and created them."
From that day rainbows existed to hold back the sky and keep the elements from damaging the Earth. Sometimes, Rain is busy and the elements blow too strongly through the gaps, man has coped well with all that is thrown at them and the God's are proud of little Rain.
If you look closely enough, you can see a bit of the rainbows in every drop of Rain.

The illustration the story inspired:

Rainbow Barrier Copyright Lucy Marsh 29.01.13

Meat Feast

A fairy tale inspired by Philip Pullman and the Grimm brothers.

A butcher stood in the window of his shop looking out onto the vibrant, noisy street. People were dancing and shouting through the village preparing for the summer festival. But the butcher did not care for joining the throngs of people, instead he remained in his quiet shop window. His favourite cleaver had been stolen and now he could not enter the annual cleaver throwing tournament.

"Don't worry boss, it'll turn up!" said his assistant

"It's them at Meat Feast what done it. Jealous of my talent." The butcher mumbled back.

Meat Feast was the only other butchers in the village, on the other side of the river. He decided they must have taken it to scupper his chances of winning another cleaver throwing title.

"I have to take this hock down to Old Ma at the edge of the wood." the assistant said suddenly. 

This gave the butcher an idea and quicker than his assistant could blink he took the hock and dashed to the van. Old Ma was a crooked old woman who many whispered about and told of her twisted magic.

The butcher rapped on the door, out of breath with anticipation.

"What a surprise, the manager himself delivering to Old Ma!" The woman exclaimed at the sight of him.

"Afternoon Ma. Thought I would bring this fine piece of meat to you myself today."

"Thank you. One moment I shall fetch your payment." Old Ma replied.

"Actually Ma, I was hoping for a favour in place of money," the butcher began "my favourite cleaver has disappeared, I'm sure those lads at Meat Feast have stolen it. I was hoping you could help me out."

Old Ma looked long and hard at the butcher, he waited for her to answer patiently.

"What exactly is it that you want?" she eventually asked.

"I just want me cleaver back." he pleaded

"Then it shall be." she said and turned to retreat inside.

"Wait, is that it? Do you not need to do a spell?" The butcher asked puzzled.

"No. Just wait and see." she croaked and disappeared.

Feeling confused but confident in Old Ma's magic the butcher returned to his shop happy and hopeful.

Three days passed and it was the day of the festival, still there was no sign of the butchers cleaver.

"Stupid Old hag! She isn't magic at all!" The butcher raged. "I shall go and get my cleaver myself!" 

With that he ran from his shop all the way to Meat Feast, demanding they return his property. The butchers threw him out into the road, covering his apron in mud and laughed at him.

"We haven't got your battered old cleaver, ours are new and sharp." They shouted.

Furious and humiliated the butcher turned to the taverna and drank until darkness settled. Covered in dry mud he staggered through the crowds gathered around the village, weaving in and out of games and market stalls. Escaping the noise he crossed the fields towards his home. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his back and fell to the ground. His assistant was soon by his side.

"What were you doing wandering around in the dark!" he asked, panicked.

"My back!" The butcher shouted "Why does it hurt?"

"I struck you with your cleaver, you wandered into the target field old man!" his assistant replied.

"My cleaver? Why do you have it?" the butcher shouted.

"I wanted to win you a brand new one, like the ones at Meat Feast." the assistant admitted. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, it was to be a surprise!"

With this the butcher coughed and died in the arms of his assistant.

"All he wanted was his cleaver back." The assistant cried.

"And he got it, didn't he." a voice croaked in the darkness.

Meat Feast Copyright of Lucy Marsh 28.01.13