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Possibly the start of a new story. I wrote this in my notebook as part of my daily writing pages whilst having lunch at work.

It was a memory of the light that they grasped at. A legend that had been passed by word of mouth over dinner tables, camp fires, and beer sodden bars. The tale gradually became more spectacular as it was slowly embellished into its legendary status. It was as if it needed to grow more fantastical as the generations passed and those that had been present to witness had now taken their memories to the grave. An ordinary folk tale would not inspire or motivate, but a glowing legend of days past kept the hope alive for its future return.

As with all legends, the older it grew the more people came to take it with a pinch of salt. A wonderful fairy tale that had formed part of their cultural tradition. The story still inspired hope and patriotism but only through a metaphorical message, any kernels of thought that believed that it could possibly be true had long since died as the modern, industrial age steam-rolled in.

The memory now only resides in dusty, hidden tomes or among the lucky few who happened upon it having almost faded into obscurity. But with all fantastical stories that now rest, sleeping within memories darkness, this one would soon awake and claw its way back out of the depths once again.

Reviews

[Marie]

This could be a story by itself--the legends that rise and become reality, then fairy tales, then die--but wait to be reborn...