Hire
Writers
Editors
Home Tour About Read What's New Help Forums Join
My Account Login
Shop
Save
Support
E
Book
Store
Learn
About
Jesus
  

Win A Publishing Package HERE            

The HOME for Christian writers! The Home for Christian Writers!
The Official Writing Challenge

BACK TO
CHALLENGE
MAIN

INSTRUCTIONS

how it works
submission rules
guidelines for
choosing a level

ENTRIES

submit your entry
read current entries
read past entries
challenge winners



Our Daily Devotional HERE
Place it on your site or
receive it daily by email.





TRUST JESUS TODAY

TRY THE TEST



Share
how it works   Submit

Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Writing a Letter (handwritten correspondence) (10/21/10)

TITLE: THE SUNSET
By mick dawson
10/26/10


 LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
 SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
 ADD TO MY FAVORITES

To my dearest Yomannin,

It is I, Iloku. I am not sure if this epistle will reach you. If it does, be assured, it will be my final one. As I am no seaman, I can only say that I write this from a lonely atoll off the southern coast of Vindavia. It is the result of a shipwreck aboard a Soravian merchant vessel.

I have roved my whole life Yomannin, since I left my homeland of Nusalle. The years that have passed since you last saw me have been eventful. In my travels, I have learned three more languages, such as that of the desert tribes of the Dabal B’quese, Pendaran and the guttural tongue of the Nezlanders. My sword has seen work as a caravan guard, mercenary and bodyguard to the wealthy. I have travelled all over the world and could write for the rest of my days on the wonders I have seen.

The adventures during my life have been many, as have been the women I have known. My heart has raced with the thrill of both and they have almost made me smile…almost, but I could never wash that tavern girl in Caliet from my mind. Aye Yomannin, it is you I have thought about this whole time. Each night, as I lay my head on a stone in the bush, or on a wealthier day; in rented lodgings, I have a great emptiness that could never be filled no matter how much coin I carry in my purse, mead with which I fill my belly, or the warmth of someone else’s touch.

I know that I was never closer to you than a fleeting acquaintance. I had hoped it could be more, but we both know that I could never return to Nusalle. I was a bitter disappointment to my father. Nusalle would welcome me with open arms if I was a swordsman the equal of my father, “The Great Barrand!” Unfortunately, his fame has left me in the shadows.

The reason I write to you Yomannin, is that I realise now that I love you and always have. I know this will be my last eve on this world. I tried to gather more ink from the octopi here. A curious little one with blue rings has bitten me. My vision blurs as I write and I begin to shake. Who would have thought that death could come in such beauty?

It is good to have someone to say goodbye to. The sunset here is the most beautiful I have seen and I cannot think of anyone other than you who I would wish to share it with.

I know you would never return the affections of the penniless wretch you once knew. No doubt you are married by now with a family and have long forgotten me. Just please allow me the delusion of what might have been as the light dims in my eyes.

Goodbye Yomannin, no man has ever loved a woman more before.

Iloku.

He rolled the parchment tightly and drained the last of his bottle of Pendaran rum, before placing it inside. Throwing the bottle into the surf, he gathered his legs in his arms, beginning to shiver with the coming night. The horizon was no longer distinct; just colours in his watery vision, yet still beautiful as he could make out the orange and red above, and the black beneath of what had to be the dusk sea.

His left hand dropped onto the sand, palm turned upwards. For the first time in years, a smile crossed his features as he imagined Yomannin slid her hand into his. The sky turned greyer so gradually, that he could not discern whether it was due to the coming night or his grasp on life was slipping away.

Iloku’s smile broadened. None of it mattered. He had found what few did during their lifetime—true love. The thought sustained him for the rest of his life as the world receded from his mind.


The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.


This article has been read 471 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Shann Hall-LochmannVanBennekom 10/30/10
What a beautiful love story. I enjoyed every word of this.
Lyn Churchyard10/31/10
A good story and definitely on topic. I could almost visualise Iloku's adventures. The descriptions were very good, especially
I only have one negative thing to say... did you have to kill him off?
Jan Ackerson 11/01/10
You've definitely got the fantasy 'voice' down pat.

I'm wondering how happy she'll be with all his other women, if she should ever get this letter...

This was unique for this week, and that's much appreciated.
Scarlett Farr 11/01/10
I really enjoyed this story. You have great imagination that flows onto the paper with ease.
Lollie Hofer 11/01/10
What a unique approach to this week's topic. Dramatic, sad, visual. Well done.
Barbara Lynn Culler11/04/10
This was so colorfully written and dramatic. I like your descriptions and use of old country terminology. Good job!