Good morning one and all. this morning I only glared at the alarm clock when it went off. I didn’t feel the need to slap it’s buttons until it gave me as many extra minutes as it could spare. That counts as progress, right? Yeah i don’t think mornings will ever be my thing. Still they are necessary so let’s press on. Ready for the morning prompt? Good, let’s dive in.
Not bad, I kind of want to know what happened to the town and who these people are who are invading it. Might be fun to find out.
Wednesday, May 4th: Ribbons hung down in long lines, every color of the rainbow represented.
Ribbons hung down in long lines, every color of the rainbow represented. They wandered through the silent town, marveling at the preparation that was clearly underway. In addition to the ribbons, there were painted masks. They were carved from the gourds they saw growing wild around the city as they made their journey north into the mountains.
Each mask was fitted with ribbons so that it could be worn on the face. They were laid out on tables at various locations along the street. Each of the masks was brightly colored and featured at least one exaggerated feature. Some sported enormous hooked noses while others had great big bulging eyes. Some had ears fitted to the side of another wise normal looking head. Each ear was as big as the central face mask and often oddly misshapen. The shapes varied so Peter was not certain of they were designed to represent anything other than big ears. Some hat large mouths. The mouths too varied. Some were thin lipped but enormous, others had bulging lips. Many had long drooping tongues as well.
They were arranged by characteristic. All of the large noses were on one table all of the large mouths, regardless of variety on another. It was oddly unsettling to be stared at by so many painted eyes. The ribbons fluttered in the breeze that slipped down the mountains. It carried the scent of snow. They were high enough in altitude now that even after long summer days, the nights felt as though they still belonged to winter.
Dave leaned over. “Where is everyone,” he asked. His voice, normally loud and brash was modified to a stage whisper. The words still bounced off of the stone making everyone in their group wince.
Peter shook his head and shrugged, not wanting to say anything. The stones around them bounced back their words turning whispers into shouts. They proceeded forward, eyes out for any people. Thee was movement a plenty with the constantly shifting ribbons, but there were no people. They reached the center of town and found themselves standing in a vast plaza. The rainbow ribbons stayed in the streets and lining the buildings so there was less movement there.
Instead of tables filled with masks there were now tables laden with food. It was a feast laid out for no one. Scents from the prepared dishes reached their nostrils. It smelled tantalizingly good.
‘And fresh,’ Peter thought. It it had been abandoned, it hadn’t been abandoned for long.
“Maybe part of the ceremony takes place outside of town and then they return for feasting?” Peter ventured. Now that they were in the courtyard voices bounced less through the open space.
There were nods. “No one touch the food,” Douglas said. He was the closest thing they had to a leader since the accident. “I wouldn’t want to come back from mass to find someone had eaten my Christmas supper.”
There were halfhearted smiles as they all kept clear of the tables. While the food smelled good there was something strange about seeing the town dressed up for a party and the square prepared for a feast when there were no people.
“No animals either,” Peter realized.
He looked around. There was nothing, no birds, no dogs, nothing. He felt a tightening in his belly. Something was wrong.
Ten til Midnight 