halfshellvenus (
halfshellvenus) wrote2024-07-31 11:57 am
Entry tags:
Idol Mini: "Muireall"
Muireall
Idol Mini | week 4 | 260 words
Uncanny Valley (The point at which something realistic becomes wrong enough to be disturbing)
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Rory dreamed she came from the sea.
Her hair gleamed like burnished chestnut
as she waited on the shore,
her clothes dripping on the sand–
a summer storm for him alone.
Their eyes met across the distance,
he the question and she the answer.
A held-in breath, a leaping heartbeat,
and Rory felt his fortunes change.
He’d never wooed and never wed,
but found the courage to bring her home.
There, he fed her, warmed her, held her
until their searching was no more.
Words stolen by waves or the journey,
she understood naught but his earnest love.
He called her Muireall, for the ocean
that had swept through his very heart.
The surf thundered and the wind blew hollow
while each mapped the other’s ebbs and tides.
He was constant and she was playful.
They were magic spun from sea-foam and light.
For weeks, they lived as lovers
in his cottage by the cold North Sea.
Rory dared to dream of marriage,
of children– of bliss until the end of time.
But then one day, her eyes shone true:
black and depthless, they were not human,
and Rory could not hide a shiver.
He saw her realize that he knew.
She snatched her cloak from the door
and ran outside, his sad entreaties
(Muireall, it does not matter!)
slowing nothing in her stride.
She fled down to the water,
too far to hear his desperate cries.
Then she wrapped herself in her cloak (her skin),
and slipped silently back into the sea.
His sorrow filled the empty sky.
--/--
If you enjoyed this story, you can vote for it along with many other fine entries here
Idol Mini | week 4 | 260 words
Uncanny Valley (The point at which something realistic becomes wrong enough to be disturbing)
x-x-x-x-x
Rory dreamed she came from the sea.
Her hair gleamed like burnished chestnut
as she waited on the shore,
her clothes dripping on the sand–
a summer storm for him alone.
Their eyes met across the distance,
he the question and she the answer.
A held-in breath, a leaping heartbeat,
and Rory felt his fortunes change.
He’d never wooed and never wed,
but found the courage to bring her home.
There, he fed her, warmed her, held her
until their searching was no more.
Words stolen by waves or the journey,
she understood naught but his earnest love.
He called her Muireall, for the ocean
that had swept through his very heart.
The surf thundered and the wind blew hollow
while each mapped the other’s ebbs and tides.
He was constant and she was playful.
They were magic spun from sea-foam and light.
For weeks, they lived as lovers
in his cottage by the cold North Sea.
Rory dared to dream of marriage,
of children– of bliss until the end of time.
But then one day, her eyes shone true:
black and depthless, they were not human,
and Rory could not hide a shiver.
He saw her realize that he knew.
She snatched her cloak from the door
and ran outside, his sad entreaties
(Muireall, it does not matter!)
slowing nothing in her stride.
She fled down to the water,
too far to hear his desperate cries.
Then she wrapped herself in her cloak (her skin),
and slipped silently back into the sea.
His sorrow filled the empty sky.
--/--
If you enjoyed this story, you can vote for it along with many other fine entries here

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I don't do poems for Idol very often, but I started this as a story, and it was just clumsy. Stripping out the extraneous language was immediately easier, and I think it worked much better!
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Very well done.
Dan
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I love selkie stories that take it from the other angle - she was never coerced but it was still doomed.
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A tragic love, in the end. But so passionate while it lasted!
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Poor Rory, though. :( But of course, once she was found out, she knew she couldn't stay.
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And what a lovely name. 😉
I love it! I really, really love it!
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I kept looking for sea-related Scottish names, and variants of Muriel kept coming up, so it seems I was fated to use it!
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Really is a lovely story, K. ❤❤❤
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he the question and she the answer." That is pure soul love. Then you tell a great story, concluding with "His sorrow filled the empty sky", which is phenomenal and so wonderfully describes a broken heart. Plus, selkies - I have a real weakness for selkies.
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I struggled so with the last line for this poem, and when I abandoned my earlier attempts at the language and went in a completely different direction, that's when I knew it was finished.
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Trust this statement is a compliment.
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Have you ever seen Local Hero? I've always liked the mermaid understory in that movie.
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I'm glad you enjoyed this. :D
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- Erulisse (one L)
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