Tag Archives: writing prompt
Result of this prompt courtesy of “Part Wild”:I knew I was in the wrong place, where dust settles and moats of light relax in the air. The Attic, an altar for the forgotten where you can consume the oxigen around you to clear fearful and frazzled thoughts. The only thing to think carefully of now is the sense of someone watching you and how you may feel when at any moment your spine feels as if it will rise from your skin, a bland pit releasing itself from fruit. It is time to taste fire.
Result of this writing prompt:
I’m fighting to keep from losing my inner peace, which has made a beneficial dent in the metal of my life. Fight or Flight…it is such an incredible decision to be either a steel warrior or to make like a bird and fly far away from it all on the first wind. But the wind has caught fire and now is wreaking havoc, a dark cloud forever following me.
It’s time to break the spell, to stop the crows from tearing at my wounds until my world is wet and red with emptiness and despair. I have chosen to finally taste fire.
From this writing prompt:
I didn’t expect him here, a glint of starshine between my eyes and my own comet to make a wish on.
He paints his dreams in the shadows of his studio, laid out from what the maze of his mind might look like: paint, canvas, india ink, brushes all a forest of protection, as if he thought angered Gods might try to strike him as punishment for not forming their divine likenesses first and foremost. Salvador Dali possesses his work, with surrealist curves and smooth bright colors, but the grey palor of worry seeps into his face. He knows now that my love for him isn’t enough for him to keep on creating…and I have not said one word.
The result of this prompt:
She stared at her reflection in the silver spoon.
A moment with simple eyes and a relaxed mouth.
Only to reflect, reflect, reflect.
Bitten lower lip and slow thought process…
She came about, silver and round with a new awareness.
The introspection is almost over and slowly it drips down into the world that is made of water.
Results of writing prompt from here :
I’m hiding from myself in darkness with amber eyes. They only lie in wait if I make the slightest noise, the other part of the time they ignore what may lurk in THEIR own darkness. Darkness is a funny thing…it is not ALL dark if you look close enough you can sense the tiniest point of light. Next to nothing other than that. I let it lead me sometimes to other parts of my mind, digging up uselessness and dusting off quiet wonders. Nothing is as it seems there, which can be good….we go blind as we get closer to the truth.
My result of this prompt called “Night”:
At night, I can hear the owls and their wisdom, the darkness of their world. In between the grey-ness of mine and theirs, I see my own light neat with bursts of wonder. My world opens up with them, hoots and rustles. I often wonder how far ahead they can see since darkness can be stifling and how they can sense a blockage in front of them…or how they can see their next evening meal in hope that the meal is in proximity. I have never doubted their hunting skills in the dark.