Ok, so this is the strangest story I’ve ever written, not necessarily due to the plot but due to the style I wrote it in… I hope you can understand it—if not, feedback please! 🙂 Parts of it only makes any sense if you read it in light of the fact that a lot of the words are meant to give you more of the feeling of what I’m talking about, rather than me straight-out saying it in the English language. Lol it’s kinda crazy, so don’t be afraid to laugh if you think it’s funny…
Back in time to a land of faraway places…
Known a lady she in a palace she swayed in the spiky mountains by the tragical sea. A queen she strode, as a ruler of high security, chosen to lead this radical land with a cocky range of authority. Beholden to a service of a life, and never to let the brothers run and knock her free. Forward on she soared the towns to work on land but never out. The ocean held bones baking wild, greasy ships in the deepest places. Whales dove to knock the over in went round the citizens.
Long before Brown the king loved by queen he floated his blood at sea. Pesterings fought kingdom to sail but she caught and jailed simpletons. Ocean hangs alone for her dead king.
Dwelled a man young and chilled, raging for adventure far off and free. Before him maiden gone his soul for love swallowed his cheer.
“Wenda, dear,” gave Man,” with me to ghastly sea, to far-off land, to new and prodigal life full and bright–with me?”
Wenda swelled, “Wholly, no, Queen Hairna faces we to track us so!”
“Escape, yes, we bid ours gone we stake. But no right she fight for stony fate.”
“Chisel bite!” flailed Wenda. “Off into cold not out!”
Man bored in dreams flawed up and trusting on cheek Wenda he peck gentler. “Courses chop running fire my heart one all the feelings–go or no, eternal sun and stars drift as my love shifts constant scratching crumbs. Marry or no, eyes have you never I to fever off from pinnacle gaze.”
Wenda swooped in gasping stare fallen away clenched teeth and hands. Water ices cheeks, freezing pose. Wind and mirth shoot, “Queen Hairna I but rising churned and quaked before. Chisel bite! To tragical sea in haste of dropping calls must I and you–for, yes, loves still me.” Wenda deepens whole, “Stills me love from you, John Barley.”
John glided teeth, “So love is bound in fear—so rest we go in hastily runnings we create.”
Kind they sailed gruntled ship of grandfather John before queen’s time, piking darkest night cloaked grim. John roughed up the rough till fine to bob over swarms of fish and sharks and vitality. Voyaged fair, no rain nor shrieks in dome of earth, yet light from tower caught and stormed the queen.
Ordered she the servants out. Grunting wide in novelties trumping plans of their visits and wielding she their fate self-willing, flaky, puffed, and sore. Efforts flung servants out on tragical sea.
Mothers and fathers woke crazed, searching for couple and crying for charity. Hours traced days flipping into weeks caught none by kingdom servants, the man and maiden bold and jumping out of holes.
Hit rock of land John proud Wenda sore. Scribbling out of wonders, waking to dawn shifting wild and green. Up went they to garden jungle forest, whatever was lying vividly pure—land nourishing so long not seen. Leaping hearts shiny beach man and maiden rushing on.
“Light,” drifted Wenda, petting trees and grinning at oozing sand.
Her arm John pestered shot eyes away from land. “Ship of queen now birthed in sight!” sprang he.
“Chisel bite!” crinkled she. “Pirates, yea—queen? Nay! Feathered up in jewels all day.”
Fingered Man towards tippy flag of queen and quality.
Wenda smudged, then balled fist and eyes. “Queen Hairna bolts at charming days to slay. Hide or dash must we—to flee! Strike over else trumped chins below.”
John charged, “Gaze on at sea of tragical fate. Rants storms to fracture queen and ship!”
Hovered clouds as said no speckled hope but windy dread. Clutched Wenda fierce, harried to John, “Run!”
“Wholly, yea, my dear,” lowered Man, “fly into green, still for me.”
Rushing Wenda wide, “Strut far from queen; now you dash—with me!”
“Nay! Rescue I the queen, for knowledge hoards about the tragical sea barrels in me.”
Narrowness of John cracked Maiden, so boggled now she squelched away.
Nettling rain, graphic light, jutting roars—on heart of John slammed. On grandfather ship to queen’s, dodged he power of storm. Spindling round in alacrity, sailed he the ship, water drowning eyes and legs.
On blinked Wenda shore beneath junky feet but lost from serenity. Glimpsed ship of John dawdling up to ship of queen. Over brushed the storm on Maiden’s sight, fear fled her behind rock. Far to sea stretched John knowledge to queen. Beasty waves splintered speech of John, crippling ships, and widened Maiden to behold.
Turned Queen to crew, “Pluck fast away!” Scuffled they the queen toward land on kingdom ship, forward crashing, breaking ship, but not humanity. Queen and crew hugging land and green pouring relief.
Tragical sea pained remaining vitality, dipping well to center earth—Grandfather’s ship and John the same.
Met Wenda contorting into ghastly illness. Shoulder rattled Queen Hairna gentler. “Plop,” gave she, “on trusty rock with me.”
On did they, Maiden tipsy and frowning. Toward tragical sea they stared, blinded both by washing eyes.
Littled up and crazed, Hairna played, “Man and sea clink together as beasts.”
Wenda chilled, “Chisel bite, my queen—law’s whole deepness feel I now. Grip I the grief you motioned to Brown the king.”
“Law I fixed,” steadied Queen, “but play I now allow. Before me grief gentles, grief fondles. Before me that sea floods into tranquility.”