Good morning! Today I have an excerpt from a 695-word story called MOONY HILL by Dana Gaar up for critique. The excerpt gives a taste of the beginning and end, and she envisioned it as a picture book but says that may change. If you have the time, please give it a read and offer any advice or constructive criticism you may have. If you're interested in having a query, synopsis, or excerpt posted on Lit Rambles for critique, check out my contribute page.
ETA: At Dana's request, I've posted the full story.
MOONY HILL
By Dana Gaar
Walking to a party over Moony Hill
Where trees are blushing and autumn’s revealed
In the hollow below, in the late night air
Tables covered with drinks and plenty of fare
A bonfire is roaring
to lessen the chill
But we’ve all
heard the legend of Moony Hill
Spun by our fathers
in the full moon light
Tales of old man Moony
and his mean old wife
The rumor is wild and the tale it is tall
A time after summer, before the snow fall
They lived back in the woods
at the top of a rise
And fought night and day
for most of their lives.
Legend’s not clear
what happened to him
But she was found headless
where daylight is dim
The hill remained quiet
for a day and a year
When the harvest moon rose,
we thought we could hear. . .
Some say it’s a panther
at times we hear wail
Though seen many nights
by those who dare tell
Alone before dusk,
you may do what you will
Her head in her hands,
she haunts twilight till
But the stories are old
and it’s been a long time
Things parents made up
to get children to mind
Though it’s quite dark, it won’t be that bad
Let’s not be afraid, there’s fun to be had
A moonlit ride in a wagon of hay
A quiver and shiver at the coyote’s bay
Legs that dangled when the night owl screeched
Were quickly pulled up and tucked underneath
The wind would howl
and the bushes would wiggle
Bringing squeals and shrieks
that turned into giggles
The graveyard crept by
in a ‘lay in wait’ manner
While the hair on our necks
belied our brave banter
Roasting wienies on sticks
round the great open blaze
Dark phantoms behind
danced in long fiery waves
Burnt to a crisp
were a dozen marshmallows
Glancing over our shoulders
at strange moving shadows
Wearing sly little grins
we poked and we picked
Deliciously soaked
in the hour of the witch
At the end of the night when the haunting was done
We banded together as though we were one
Walking home from the party back over the hill
We laughed at the things that gave us a chill
But black is the color of autumn at night
Different shades of the same creep around in moonlight
Sounds are so different when light’s not around
They’re louder and closer and fearfully bound
Hearts jumped in our chests
when we heard the low moan,
Was it animal, wind, or the trees that had groaned?
Impossible to tell if imagined or real
We all drew in close, hushing our squeal
Some looked to the left others looked to the right
Wishing for home with all of our might
The air was quite fluffy, like clouds on the ground
We could not see up, we could not see down
When you look hard enough
the darkness takes form
Like clouds in the sky
on a cool autumn morn
Is that moss hanging down in the trees just ahead
Or giant black bats about to be fed?
We teased each other with a joke and a dare
Cringing with dread, but in love with the scare
Just about then
as we rounded the curve
We heard a far wail
and there went our nerve
Is that? Oh my! You think it could it be?
Go see! No way! Please go before me!
The legend of old no longer a lark
Lady Moony’s arrived so we must depart!
With the swoop of a bat,
we missed not a beat
The only thing left
was the dust from our feet!
Running and screaming does not require balance
Tripping, not falling, now that takes some talent!
Did you see? Yes, I saw! Though he shook his head no.
Was it her? Yes, I’m sure! I felt her so close!
We gasped and we panted and started to slow
With hands on our knees, a thought started to grow
Of all the night’s spooks and whimsical ghosts
We find, after all, we’d scared ourselves most!
Dana Gaar