Yup, I'm still pimping Jason Evan's Clarity of Night contest.
Even if you don't choose to enter, please go read the extravaganza of sheer talent, the exhilarating variations on a theme. You'll find entries which are chilling and thrilling, brilliant and brave, funny and sad -- in every possible style and approach.
Jason deserves a world of credit for his generous encouragement by instituting these contests.
Here is my somewhat mediocre entry (and that is not false modesty but a fair assessment.)
All night I have stood by this narrow window and stared down at the Thames. No torch-lit barges, no revelry of lute and mandolin and song disturbed its course. The river runs dark as my damask gown, as cold as stone.
All night only moonlight troubled the waters like a sword...
A sword, not the axe. He will allow me that and no more. Such kingly courtesy...
Now dawn has stirred the ravens that strut and swoop about this fortress. I think they must feed on the silent curses of the condemned -- for they are fat and black...
A thousand days. A thousand days to dance and glitter like sunlight on a blade. A thousand days which end this May morning. I finger my necklace, the one he clasped about my neck with his own hands...
A bustle at the door. Footsteps ring slow across the floor. I turn as the Constable approaches. An uncouth man, but kind in his fashion. He jerks a bow and avoids my eyes. I notice his ruff and doublet are splatter-stained with red wine.
I clasp my hands at my waist and wait.
"Majesty," he says. He coughs and looks away.
"M'lady...Mistress Boleyn....'Tis time."