Challenge 4: Quoth the Raven: “Encore” (700 words, exactly): Dig up your inner (so not the actual) E.A. Poe and write some gorgeous Gothic fiction with notions of inevitable death! Romance! Mental anguish! … where the narrator gets visited by a talking animal which may or may not have been (but most definitely is; the judges will notice) Megalosaurus bucklandii. For added difficulty, our dinosaur only knows words with ‘e’ in them. For contrast, your narrator can’t use any e’s in their own dialogue. Include in this story four kinds of tea, no two of which are in the same sentence!
My (a good word) Liz,
First of all, I am sorry for my unforgivably bad writing. You will know why it is that way soon.
I pray that you stay in good condition. I, I’m afraid, am not. I told you about magic that could grant I what I look for: a right body, a right… status. You know what I imply. I found a magician who can do that kind of magic.
I was too caught up in my joy of finding it that I got into a trap. This magician did not inform I about cost of his magic until I was… what I am now.
This magic cost I a lot of my vocabulary. I cannot say or work with a… I cannot say it right. It is past D and prior to F.
Doing this hurts I so much. I got what I wish but lost an important tool. I cannot say a drink I want if it’s not akin to Chai.
I’m sorry, my fantastic Tulip. My trip brought us a calamity I had not thought to occur.
I’m coming back now, partly finally full and partly in parts again.
…I cannot say who I am now, so call I…
P.S. I am sorry for moist on this. This hurts I so much that I cry a lot nowadays.
My (a word) Liz,
I don’t know what to say, only that I’m ill. I’ll stay in town of Cards until I’m not sick. I pray that Oolong will aid my condition.
This magic on I adds to my hurt day past day. I’m afraid that I’ll turn out bad.
Pray for my condition, my fantastic Tulip.
I don’t know what’s actually going on. I’m trying coming back although I’m still ill without a stop to it. During my trip to Light City, I found a giant, scaly animal who talks in words I lost, and only in words I lost. It has two giant foots, short arms and awfully long tooths. It said to I that I’ll pass away without coming back to you.
I don’t know if it was a hallucination or if it actually was with I. I don’t know much nowadays, I’m afraid.
My fantastic Tulip… I’m afraid of a lot nowadays. This magic on I adds to my hurt day past day still. I’m afraid I might actually pass away as this giant said. I cannot say if any of this is actually going on or just a bunch of hallucinations. I’m afraid that this magic has costs I’m only starting to pay, costs that I cannot pay.
Still, I’ll try coming back to you. I’m giving my word for it. I’ll bring you Matcha with I, as I told you I would prior to starting this trip that I now wish I hadn’t thought about at all any day.
My (a fantastic word) Liz,
I may not coming back to you. A man I bought Po Cha from will bring my things to you if I pass away too soon. This man’ll accompany I to you and knows your location if I pass away.
My fantastic Tulip… I’m so, so, so sorry about all of this pain that I’m bringing to you that words cannot show it. Words could not show how sorry I’m about all of this if I still had all words on my lips.
I’m so sorry for so much. I’m sorry that this will add to your pain, but I ask you to know that this might find you only past my own passing, so I want to say as much as I can with my lacking words so that nothing will follow I to what is past this living world.
I want you to know, my fantastic Tulip, that you lit my world up. I wouldn’t swap you to anything. I’m thankful for what I got and although our paths may go apart now. I’m thankful for having you.
If this is my last to you, know that you lit my world, my fantastic, brightly shining Tulip Star.
Yours till all is lost,