October, means the beginning of autumn. Leaves falling and of course the whole landscape turning into this beautiful and colourful landscape! So your mission this month is to write a colourful story. Will you succeed in this mission? Or will all the colour be your downfall? Let’s see what you guys come up with!
by Ciara BlackColours had always been a source of great interest for Sienna. She was named after one, and she’d always had a deep curiosity as to why, of all the colours in the world, her parents had chosen that one to name her. Perhaps it had been because it was such a prominent colour in the paintings of the Renaissance – her parents were big fans of art. Or maybe it went further back than that, to the original artworks created by humans smearing earthy tones on rock walls by the light of a warm fire.
Even more interesting was the idea of the colour of emotion. Warmth, like fire, brings the colours of orange and yellow, while blues and whites send a shiver of cold up the spine. Anger could make people see red, the harshest form of warm, like the boiling blood within their veins. Tears of sadness mimic the frozen feeling deep inside of feeling entirely blue. The queasy feeling of green inside her stomach mimicked the tinge in her cheeks when she had eaten something too old. To Sienna, black was the most interesting colour of all. The absence of colour, the absence of light, the mood of people when hope or happiness was extinguished. Yet also the colour that fuels the fire as coal, the colour that is flicked off the side in ash to remind you there once was light. In paint, the opposite of in light – all colours combined, blended together to make the darkest colour of all. Sienna liked to think of black in terms of paint rather than light. If black were all colours, then she could see colour through more than her emotion, through more than her name. In paint, the absence of light was the only light she could see. by Polaris BlackI first met Gilderoy Lockhart when I worked at Twilfitt and Tatting's before he became a celebrity. He used to love to look at the most stylish and expensive robes even though he couldn’t afford them. He was good looking with a terrific smile and, not surprisingly, I always tried to make myself available whenever he came to window shop. Over time I learned he had considered a career as an Obliviator but now was a writer with big plans. He knew he would be really famous someday, and when he was, he wanted me to create an exclusive line of clothing for him.
His first foray into the world of the published was inspired. He had been interviewing witches for their best housekeeping tips, hoping to sell the idea of a free lance advice column to Barnabas Cuffe, editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet. At the last minute he decided to pitch the idea of a compendium of household remedies to Obscurus Books and the rest is history. We both became really famous for his robes. I designed the ones he wore for book covers. I made him robes for all occasions in all the colors of the rainbow including forget-me-not blue, lavender, turquoise, mauve, lurid pink, deep plum, jade green, and midnight blue. When he went on tour to promote his books he would return with exotic fabrics in vibrant colors for me to add to his collection. I often made him museum quality dress robes that he allowed me to display in the shop whenever he didn’t have an imminent need for them. The last time I saw him was just before he went to teach at Hogwarts. He stopped by the shop to bring me a copy of his latest book, Magical Me, which he signed with his famous peacock quill. He told me he was delighted that as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts he could require each one of his students to purchase seven of his books. I started thinking of new color combinations despite myself. I kept reading about the terrible year they were having at Hogwarts. It’s hard to believe he sustained such a terrible injury and even harder to believe the nasty rumors that have been circulating. But the hardest thing for me to believe is that Guilderoy Lockhart is living in St. Mungo’s in a pale grey straight-jacket. |
Short Story ChallengesEvery month there will be an short story challenge where anyone from any house can submit their short stories related to the theme of the month! Check out the following brilliant submissions to read them all! Archives
June 2015
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