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Dulcet

The Bells of Harmony rang out, filling the air with its sweet reverberations. It reached Eleanor’s ears, and she stood up from the top step of the front porch. 

 “Mom!” she called out, but didn’t wait for a response or to tell her more. 

Welcome to The Word! Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem, painting, dance move—inspired by the word, dulcet, where does it take me? Where does it take you?

[ duhl-sit ]

Adjective

  1. Pleasant to the ear; melodious.
  2. Pleasant or agreeable to the eyes or the feelings; soothing.
  3. Archaic. Sweet to the taste or smell.

Let’s Write…

** Either a story beginning, a story ending, a piece of flash fiction, a poem, painting, dance move—inspired by the word, dulcet, where does it take me? Where does it take you?


The Bells of Harmony rang out, filling the air with its sweet reverberations. It reached Eleanor’s ears, and she stood up from the top step of the front porch. 

 “Mom!” she called out, but didn’t wait for a response or to tell her more. 

 Eleanor flung herself off the porch, skipping the three steps, and landing at a run on the paved path. As she ran toward the school, where the Bells of Harmony rang from, other teenagers joined the sprint. Some in front of her, some in back, some on the other side of the street. 

 The great school, Harmony Academy, only accepted a certain number of students, and on the day the bells rang, they would post their list of accepted students. To be a Harmony graduate, meant greatness, and Eleanor wanted nothing more. 

She felt it in her bones…

… and in her heaving breaths that it was her destiny. She’d join the ranks of the former Prime Minister, of famous authors, and painters, and architects. Ever since she knew of the Academy, Eleanor knew she’d walk the halls. 

 Eleanor reached the gate to the school, which was shut; but, hanging on the bars, there was a long piece of parchment encased behind glass in a wooden frame. 

 A crowd of hopeful students was already there, already reading the list for their names. Some cheered and leaped as they ran home to tell their parents or waited for the verdict on their friends. Others screamed and cried, while others left quietly head hanging low. 

 Eleanor reached the list and read with anxiety. She read it again, for she must have missed it. After the third pass, her heart falling, Eleanor had to conclude her name wasn’t there. Her destiny, her life, was over. 


Notes/Thoughts/Ideas

 I think this could be a great start to a story. We could lengthen it up a bit, describe Eleanor, and some of the other kids better. It could be a poignant scene to have them all interacting together in a game of soccer or something, and then the bells ring. After that moment, that group that we just saw as being so close, will now be separated.

 Then, there’s Eleanor. She feels destined for this school and for greatness itself. Yet, she doesn’t get in. So, I think there are two paths (and more!). 

 First, the next chapter or chapters describe her journey to weasel her way into the school somehow. Maybe through some great feat, perhaps through more ominous means like causing the other students to leave the school. It depends on the genre we want to write.

 The second path is for Eleanor to accept her place of not attending this Academy, perhaps seeing it for the great “separator” it is, and forging her own destiny of greatness without it. 

What do you think of Dulcet?

 Which path excites you the most? What genre? 

Leave your thoughts, your own story beginning/ending, flash-fiction, or whatever in the comments! Where did dulcet or my story take you?

If you liked this story, check out my podcast of short stories, More Than A Story.

Today’s word is from Dictionary.com.

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