Today Pegman took us to Pripyat, Ukraine. Years ago I met a Greek couple who had been affected by the Chernobyl Disaster. Although they were elderly, they were frailer than their age warranted. “Chernobyl,” the husband said, “was a very bad thing.” I’m dedicating this story to them.
Oh, such a racket! Men shouting, babies whimpering, feet stomping, horns honking, dogs barking!
The eerie sound of gears grinding to a halt.
“Enough noise to wake the dead,” someone said. But the dead did not wake up.
Thirty-two years later the bodies are no longer counted because after all this time
there is no proof The Disaster caused the aches and pains that drag people toward death then allow them to plunge into darkness.
No proof?
For nine days heat from the fire spilled poison up into the sky where it drifted like a bevy of black angels hiding inside the wind.
How far? Who knows?
Tourists come to view the remains of our town, snap pictures of themselves in front of the decaying Ferris wheel, dust-covered dolls hiding behind gas masks, empty beds, blackened toys.
But no one can take a selfie beside the acrid scent of destruction.
Wow, stunning work. Such a powerful story, both lyrical and tragic.
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Thanks, Karen. I swore I wouldn’t do Pegman or Friday Fictioneers until I got far inside editing my novel but I just couldn’t resist. Thanks for posting an interesting site to write about! Happy Saturday.
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So glad you are here! I hope the editing goes well. That’s an exciting place to be! Looking forward to hearing more about this project. Happy Saturday to you!
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🙂 Will keep you posted after I climb over the brick wall called plot!
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Lol, I hear you!
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great image of black angels hiding inside the wind.
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Thanks, Josh.
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Powerful – the tourist part was sobering
And nice dedication to the couple you knew (so sad)
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Thanks. They were very sobering in the telling of their story.
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This was brilliant, Alicia. One of your best.
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Thanks, Dale! Maybe taking a couple weeks break from Pegman and FF sharpened my brain a bit. One can always hope!
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Well it sure didn’t hurt 😉
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Bitter, biting. The contrast between experiencing the tragedy, suffering through it, and being told the suffering’s cause wasnt provable. And then the tourists getting cheap thrills, taking selfies in the ashes. Powerful.
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Thank you. Did you hear about the people taking selfies at the Holocaust memorial? Standing on their heads with their feet on the monuments? Jumping from stone to stone? Such bad behavior.
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I can’t “like” this post. It’s too tragic. But, wow, it is an amazing and powerful piece of writing.
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That means a lot coming from you. Thanks.
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That’s a powerful polemic you’ve written, Lish, with some memorable images.
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Thanks, I think.
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Dear Lish
It was certainly meant positively!
Your piece isn’t so much a story, though, as a dramatization of some of the consequences of the Chernobyl disaster. Polemic seemed a more accurate description. And there is some powerful writing there. Two examples that I particularly liked were
‘“Enough noise to wake the dead,” someone said. But the dead did not wake up.’ and
‘where it drifted like a bevy of black angels hiding inside the wind.’
Glad to here you’re deep in revising your novel – that must be very satisfying. But I hope you find time to squeeze in the occasional FF or WPS story!
With best wishes
Penny
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Oh, yes, I see what you mean. Thanks for returning. I’m in the throws of “nothing” right now. As in What DO my characters want? Why IS one of my main characters (the raven shapeshifter) doing among the Indians? What? When? Where? Why? The best part is the woman who last edited the entire novel said there’s but one big revision and a couple of tweaks before the novel will be ready to submit. Apparently, I’m very good at scenes and dialogue. That’s a plus.
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Working out motivations is what I’m doing as well, with ‘The dove on the pergola.’ It’s tricky, and it needs to be right. Go with your instinct as to what feels right, Lish!
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