Open Question: What do you think of the prologue of my story?
The prologue is written in present tense, whereas the rest of the novel is written in past tense (so don’t let that put you off.) What do you think of the prologue?
PROLOGUE
The sweet symphonic melody of singing birds erupts, signally a process as old as time itself. The sun?s iridescent rays fall upon the assembly of uplifted faces, each squinting against the light, eager in anticipation for the renewing of life. The fresh aroma of spring is light in the air. Hundreds of people stand in a circular arrangement, each hand or arm connected, in the same place their ancestors once stood, waiting for the same thing.
Necks craned toward the sky, the crowd becomes restless. This is unusual; it should not take this long. It should start when the birds croon their song and end just as suddenly. The children fidget and tug at their parent?s arms; the adults begin to murmur amongst themselves, worry etched on their faces; the elders exchange silent glares and purse their lips.
Then, as natural as the seasons change and grass grows, the clouds part and the annual Harvest begins. A single shining rock hurtles from the heavens and takes its place in soft grass, only the sharpest eyes catching the movement. A child shrieks with joy but is held back by his mother. To the gathered crowd, it is immediately obvious what the object is, and more follow suit. The sky glitters as the small metallic buds fall to earth. It is a delicate type of falling, almost like floating, though quick as wink. The birds continue singing and not one bud lands outside the circle.
A woman stands with her husband, her arm wrapped around his. As she stands in the circle formation, she realises that one of these, one of these tiny buds holds her unblossomed baby. Only protocol and custom stops her from running forward and cupping the tiny bud in her hands. Instead, she stares in wonder, overcome with the greatest sense of awe. The birds cease their song and the buds rest in the grass with finality, an expected thirty in total.
She is astonished she can feel such love for something barely larger than a pea. This bud has become an extension of herself. She knows the bud will grow and as it does, so will her love for it, until, when her heart feels like exploding, the bud will blossom.

Mon, 24 Aug 2009 07:08:19 GMT
Open Question: anyone know what to do about someone that has heart disease and diabetes, and seems really weak?
he has a hard time going outside, when it’s warm out. he gets really weak. he also has arthritis in his back and can’t stand for too long.

Sun, 23 Aug 2009 19:37:29 GMT

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