Quote:
Originally Posted by gmw
Was that so you could eat your own words? 
Sorry, couldn't resist. (I know, I should have.) I just had this vision of being unexpectedly trapped in a small hut with no food.
Do you think it was a matter of the isolation from other distractions? Of boredom? Or did the event itself offer inspiration? |
Good questions all.
I thought at first to entertain with a story that entailed spitting and roasting the handsome male guide on the fourth day of starvation, but no, there were provisions enough, though of the wilderness type and there was no guide.
It started as a skiing trip with four of my best girl friends. We had met in boarding school before University and were eager to reunite and get away for a while. When the weather shifted and was predicted to become very bad, two went back to the town for they had obligations but three of us stayed for the skiing was superb and we said to hell with it all, especially with the men in our lives. Nothing but trouble.
The hut was sized for about 15 people and so there was plenty of room with only two more couples there besides us. Wood was plentiful, and there was a small LNG tank for the stove. No electricity, but candles, small oil type lamps, and the fire.
My friends and I were very intense and very competitive and so we challenged each other once the weather totally closed us in. We would write. It could be poetry, music or literature. Letters did not count and were forbidden.
I wrote a novella, and a short story, a long poem about my mother in case I did die, and some poetic dribblings about my boy friend who was off in National Service and seemed unconcerned about my happiness. My friends did the equivalent.
The novella was published. The short story was later modified into serial form for a magazine.
My mother found the poem a few years later and cried. One day perhaps the day will come when it will be published. I don't ever want that day to come.