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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Mystery
- Published: 09/17/2016
Island Tales
Born 1966, F, from Hamilton, CanadaIsland Tales
by
Deborah Eker
I am introducing the reader to an enormous island off the coast of Spain. A colony of writers lives on one side of its seemingly pristine terrain. A lighthouse stands on a promontory with jagged cliffs on the island’s north-end. As the lighthouse keeper guides sailors across the wild ocean, he is the seafarers’ best friend. Writers who comprise the colony have left their friends and families to write in peace. Peace they have found among the island’s foliage, shrubs, and trees. Another island nearby is a mystery of creation. It begs the question of whether there was ever any habitation. Nearby this island is another island that is not so serene. An island that should best be not seen. Read on to learn the details of the lighthouse and of these islands without fail. You will find them an interesting tale.
The Lighthouse on the Island is located on coastal cliffs of a high rocky promontory. The keeper can tell many an interesting story. The building is fastened into the escarpment with gigantic nails. A lonely job it is, attractive only to males. It is a very high building reaching up into the stars. Not only boat captains see it, but also drivers in their cars. From the entrance, stairs lead to the living quarters of the keeper. Neon lights flash over waters for many miles around. Boats can sail past the lighthouse knowing they are safe and sound. It is located not far from a village where the keeper can buy provisions. He needs a steady supply of food because he has to make important decisions. Boat captains know his appearance and his name. They know his instructions will always be the same. The lighthouse has also been a witness to sea battles and wars. Cannonballs and hand grenades have in the walls left gigantic sores. High winds and sharks have provided many a watery grave. Smooth gliding cliffs have no perch for a sailor to use in order to himself save. Once upon a time, pirates hijacked the lighthouse and captured the lighthouse keeper. He was only rescued when a stray villager snuck in and activated the beeper. The seas hold stories of adventure and mystery. While he is watching from his perch in the sky, the keeper has seen all kinds of history.
The Island is located off the coast of Spain. To most observers it looks like pristine terrain. It sits in the North Atlantic Ocean alone and forlorn. In the winter its wind swept and rain torn. But in the summer it looks virgin and lush. With tall trees, shrubs, and bushes like a brush. Sailing on a ship past it flowers we see. Some people who plant flowers live there it seems to me. The problem is we viewers never see a soul. We do see wildlife including the mole. So who lives there? It is a refuge for writers who to live on it dare. They live in cottages alone and get together to write and share. Like birds of a feather these people have to live away from daily distractions in order to write. In their lost souls they share a common plight. They all share a harsh despair ridden past. The scope for writing about it is vast. One lady is writing her memoir of incest. Her tragic story is only one example of what is written by the rest. A man left civilization long ago and feels homeless. His writings speak of sorrow and loneliness. Another man broke an engagement to please his widowed mother. Then his mother betrayed him by finding and marrying another. One lady is writing about her devastating divorce. Her ex-husband married immediately and felt no remorse. Another lady’s only daughter died young of meningitis. Now she is all alone and crippled with rheumatoid arthritis. When a story is written readers want to know what went wrong. That is why writers write the same sorrowful song.
The Mystery Island is an isolated island surrounded by the sea. There is no human habitation that I can see. One area contains a leafy green forest. Its lush green foliage would be a sight for many a tourist. Scattered here and there are metal cases. Of hermits who may have lived here there are traces. Dominating the centre is a rather gruesome marble edifice. Steps, platforms, and chains attest to its use for human and animal sacrifice. Absence of spires and crosses indicate a pre-Christian religion. We see places of worship that are signs of pagan fascination. Little temples and decorations on the hills show us a land with fantasy beliefs. We also see scattered around human and animal bas-reliefs. In another part of the forest we see a building resembling a mausoleum. It is surrounded by a graveyard that is overgrown with an arboretum. Is this an island where fairies and nymphs and leprechauns did once thrive? We see insects and bees hovering over a bee hive. Surrounding it is the wild, wavy, shark-ridden ocean whose blue waters resemble a woman’s cosmetic lotion. Wooden structures on the coast indicate the docks of a seafaring nation. Obviously this island has known human habitation. Maybe it was destroyed by a natural disaster. Like Atlantis the legendary land of the sea which was the lost continent that sank faster and faster. How human habitation disappeared from this island we will likely never know. Its mysterious story is probably buried in the sea below. We also see a mountain that resembles a volcano that has died. Did its lava overflow and cover the countryside? Was this a pagan nation that to its gods did not behave? So that they decided to eliminate the population with an oceanic tidal wave. In the water by the coast we see no ships or boats. Just as in the interior of the island we see no grazing cows or goats.
The Island of Depravity is the mysterious island of depravity, pushed up from the ocean by sheer force of gravity. It is an isolated island surrounded by a blood red sea, that sometimes takes on the colour of yellow pee. No humans or animals appear to inhabit this gruesome land. Those who may once have were driven out by an angry god’s hand. Deep crevices in the barren soil indicate destruction by an earthquake. Just like dead trees knotted together, hanging over a foul-smelling body of water that cannot be called a lake. Dominating the centre is a monstrous marble edifice. Steps, platforms, and chains attest, to its use for human and animal sacrifice. They are strewn with human and animal entrails, of feces, skin, bones, and blood, decaying in the hot sun and the dirty mud. Whoever and whatever lived here worshipped flesh-eating beasts that chewed up humans and animals as part of their daily feast. Absence of crosses and spires indicate a non-Christian faith just as a dirty, barren earth implies a civilization of humans, animals, and other strange creatures as thin as wraiths. We see signs of worship that are signs of pagan beliefs. Temples and decorations on hillsides that show, grotesque human and animal bas-reliefs. In amongst the dead trees there is a dark, grey, marble building resembling a mausoleum. It is surrounded by a broken and unkempt grave yard that is overgrown with a weed strewn arboretum. Bats and crows circle the entire island overhead, indicating that the island is the site of something dead. Sharks and strange sea monsters are in the island’s ocean waiting for unsuspecting souls to provide them with a tasty meal that is a source of much satisfaction.
Is this an island where devils, vampires, werewolves, witches and all manner of Frankenstein-like monsters did thrive? Is this an island where humans dressed in black might still be alive? When one looks closer one sees that a civilization does still exist,hidden by the blackness of the building, the sky, and the constant mist. Wooden structures on the coast indicate the docks of a seafaring nation. Its whole story is waiting to be explored with fascination. A land where time and space has become intertwined. Where pagans, Goths, monsters, and pirates reside, in more than one’s mind. There is also a mountain that resembles a volcano that has died. As human sacrifice is prevalent many persons were brought up to the volcano’s mouth and were thrown inside. Many others willingly sacrificed themselves and jumped with pride. The lava often overflows and covers the countryside. Just as the ocean often has tidal waves that spill onto the land
far and wide.
This island has never known anything but death and destruction. But for some it beckons as a place of seduction. Its blackness pervades everything on it and around it,but this does not discourage those who come because the type of life that they will live there, does not necessarily differ from where they are from. Monsters whether real or imaginary may exist within us or in our mind. For some persons the island is a place for those monsters to find.
Island Tales(Deborah Eker)
Island Tales
by
Deborah Eker
I am introducing the reader to an enormous island off the coast of Spain. A colony of writers lives on one side of its seemingly pristine terrain. A lighthouse stands on a promontory with jagged cliffs on the island’s north-end. As the lighthouse keeper guides sailors across the wild ocean, he is the seafarers’ best friend. Writers who comprise the colony have left their friends and families to write in peace. Peace they have found among the island’s foliage, shrubs, and trees. Another island nearby is a mystery of creation. It begs the question of whether there was ever any habitation. Nearby this island is another island that is not so serene. An island that should best be not seen. Read on to learn the details of the lighthouse and of these islands without fail. You will find them an interesting tale.
The Lighthouse on the Island is located on coastal cliffs of a high rocky promontory. The keeper can tell many an interesting story. The building is fastened into the escarpment with gigantic nails. A lonely job it is, attractive only to males. It is a very high building reaching up into the stars. Not only boat captains see it, but also drivers in their cars. From the entrance, stairs lead to the living quarters of the keeper. Neon lights flash over waters for many miles around. Boats can sail past the lighthouse knowing they are safe and sound. It is located not far from a village where the keeper can buy provisions. He needs a steady supply of food because he has to make important decisions. Boat captains know his appearance and his name. They know his instructions will always be the same. The lighthouse has also been a witness to sea battles and wars. Cannonballs and hand grenades have in the walls left gigantic sores. High winds and sharks have provided many a watery grave. Smooth gliding cliffs have no perch for a sailor to use in order to himself save. Once upon a time, pirates hijacked the lighthouse and captured the lighthouse keeper. He was only rescued when a stray villager snuck in and activated the beeper. The seas hold stories of adventure and mystery. While he is watching from his perch in the sky, the keeper has seen all kinds of history.
The Island is located off the coast of Spain. To most observers it looks like pristine terrain. It sits in the North Atlantic Ocean alone and forlorn. In the winter its wind swept and rain torn. But in the summer it looks virgin and lush. With tall trees, shrubs, and bushes like a brush. Sailing on a ship past it flowers we see. Some people who plant flowers live there it seems to me. The problem is we viewers never see a soul. We do see wildlife including the mole. So who lives there? It is a refuge for writers who to live on it dare. They live in cottages alone and get together to write and share. Like birds of a feather these people have to live away from daily distractions in order to write. In their lost souls they share a common plight. They all share a harsh despair ridden past. The scope for writing about it is vast. One lady is writing her memoir of incest. Her tragic story is only one example of what is written by the rest. A man left civilization long ago and feels homeless. His writings speak of sorrow and loneliness. Another man broke an engagement to please his widowed mother. Then his mother betrayed him by finding and marrying another. One lady is writing about her devastating divorce. Her ex-husband married immediately and felt no remorse. Another lady’s only daughter died young of meningitis. Now she is all alone and crippled with rheumatoid arthritis. When a story is written readers want to know what went wrong. That is why writers write the same sorrowful song.
The Mystery Island is an isolated island surrounded by the sea. There is no human habitation that I can see. One area contains a leafy green forest. Its lush green foliage would be a sight for many a tourist. Scattered here and there are metal cases. Of hermits who may have lived here there are traces. Dominating the centre is a rather gruesome marble edifice. Steps, platforms, and chains attest to its use for human and animal sacrifice. Absence of spires and crosses indicate a pre-Christian religion. We see places of worship that are signs of pagan fascination. Little temples and decorations on the hills show us a land with fantasy beliefs. We also see scattered around human and animal bas-reliefs. In another part of the forest we see a building resembling a mausoleum. It is surrounded by a graveyard that is overgrown with an arboretum. Is this an island where fairies and nymphs and leprechauns did once thrive? We see insects and bees hovering over a bee hive. Surrounding it is the wild, wavy, shark-ridden ocean whose blue waters resemble a woman’s cosmetic lotion. Wooden structures on the coast indicate the docks of a seafaring nation. Obviously this island has known human habitation. Maybe it was destroyed by a natural disaster. Like Atlantis the legendary land of the sea which was the lost continent that sank faster and faster. How human habitation disappeared from this island we will likely never know. Its mysterious story is probably buried in the sea below. We also see a mountain that resembles a volcano that has died. Did its lava overflow and cover the countryside? Was this a pagan nation that to its gods did not behave? So that they decided to eliminate the population with an oceanic tidal wave. In the water by the coast we see no ships or boats. Just as in the interior of the island we see no grazing cows or goats.
The Island of Depravity is the mysterious island of depravity, pushed up from the ocean by sheer force of gravity. It is an isolated island surrounded by a blood red sea, that sometimes takes on the colour of yellow pee. No humans or animals appear to inhabit this gruesome land. Those who may once have were driven out by an angry god’s hand. Deep crevices in the barren soil indicate destruction by an earthquake. Just like dead trees knotted together, hanging over a foul-smelling body of water that cannot be called a lake. Dominating the centre is a monstrous marble edifice. Steps, platforms, and chains attest, to its use for human and animal sacrifice. They are strewn with human and animal entrails, of feces, skin, bones, and blood, decaying in the hot sun and the dirty mud. Whoever and whatever lived here worshipped flesh-eating beasts that chewed up humans and animals as part of their daily feast. Absence of crosses and spires indicate a non-Christian faith just as a dirty, barren earth implies a civilization of humans, animals, and other strange creatures as thin as wraiths. We see signs of worship that are signs of pagan beliefs. Temples and decorations on hillsides that show, grotesque human and animal bas-reliefs. In amongst the dead trees there is a dark, grey, marble building resembling a mausoleum. It is surrounded by a broken and unkempt grave yard that is overgrown with a weed strewn arboretum. Bats and crows circle the entire island overhead, indicating that the island is the site of something dead. Sharks and strange sea monsters are in the island’s ocean waiting for unsuspecting souls to provide them with a tasty meal that is a source of much satisfaction.
Is this an island where devils, vampires, werewolves, witches and all manner of Frankenstein-like monsters did thrive? Is this an island where humans dressed in black might still be alive? When one looks closer one sees that a civilization does still exist,hidden by the blackness of the building, the sky, and the constant mist. Wooden structures on the coast indicate the docks of a seafaring nation. Its whole story is waiting to be explored with fascination. A land where time and space has become intertwined. Where pagans, Goths, monsters, and pirates reside, in more than one’s mind. There is also a mountain that resembles a volcano that has died. As human sacrifice is prevalent many persons were brought up to the volcano’s mouth and were thrown inside. Many others willingly sacrificed themselves and jumped with pride. The lava often overflows and covers the countryside. Just as the ocean often has tidal waves that spill onto the land
far and wide.
This island has never known anything but death and destruction. But for some it beckons as a place of seduction. Its blackness pervades everything on it and around it,but this does not discourage those who come because the type of life that they will live there, does not necessarily differ from where they are from. Monsters whether real or imaginary may exist within us or in our mind. For some persons the island is a place for those monsters to find.
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