This week, you have one to two hundred (100-200) words to write a scene that incorporates song lyrics. Your characters might be singing, a song might be playing in the background, or maybe some lyrics make for great dialogue. Do what you will; don't forget to credit the song and artist at the end of the post (that does not go toward your word count) and if you think it's a song someone else on the blog won't know, include a link to all the lyrics for the readers to see. Happy lyrical writing to all!
See how many ways you can rewrite a song.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Overview #4 - Random Word
This week was an exercise in interesting. I liked it a lot. I actually wrote some poetry - and, oddly enough, was inspired later to just write a poem in the most inopportune place, while driving my car - and even though it wasn't good poetry, I recaptured some of my former grasp on images and metaphors. It was fun seeing how the two of us came up with very different interpretations of the random words we used. I did my best to try to come up with a use for the word beyond the most obvious one. Had I posted "endless" on heavy noir, I'm sure there would have been something about the characters from The Sandman. It was good to see what we could come up with.
This exercise really helped me deal with writer's block, with coming up with something random and new and fresh every time. I noticed that different scenes had predominant characteristics, such as dialogue, or description, or characterization, and I tried to go for a twist as often as possible. The snippets I wrote, I realize, encapsulate my basic approach to a short story - it has a technical focus, usually, and I try to give it a twist. It was a learning experience as a writer. I'm glad to see I can still write original fiction.
This exercise really helped me deal with writer's block, with coming up with something random and new and fresh every time. I noticed that different scenes had predominant characteristics, such as dialogue, or description, or characterization, and I tried to go for a twist as often as possible. The snippets I wrote, I realize, encapsulate my basic approach to a short story - it has a technical focus, usually, and I try to give it a twist. It was a learning experience as a writer. I'm glad to see I can still write original fiction.
Viewing
“So nice of you to come to the viewing,” Henrietta said, her tone anything but gracious.
Chris inclined his head politely, straightened his tie, stepped into the line. It was a sobering sight, a queue of humans dressed in black, snaking through the funeral parlor like a misplaced oriental dragon. All to see his grandfather.
Chris stepped up to the casket leaned down and pressed a kiss to the old man’s cold, unfeeling brow.
“I did it, Grandpa,” he said. “I did it for you.” He laid a box down on the soft white satin of the casket. Chris wouldn’t be at the funeral, but the rest of the family didn’t know that. As far as they were concerned, he was the stubborn child who grandfather had loved, who’d spurned grandfather’s care and dropped out of school, wasted his potential and all his relatives sacrificed for him.
Chris hadn’t wasted anything. Grandfather was the only one who knew that. When Chris swept past Aunt Henrietta, he flashed her a sarcastic smile. If someone dared open the box - for most people didn’t leave gifts till the funeral - they would find the heart of a dragon inside.
Chris had joined the Order.
Chris inclined his head politely, straightened his tie, stepped into the line. It was a sobering sight, a queue of humans dressed in black, snaking through the funeral parlor like a misplaced oriental dragon. All to see his grandfather.
Chris stepped up to the casket leaned down and pressed a kiss to the old man’s cold, unfeeling brow.
“I did it, Grandpa,” he said. “I did it for you.” He laid a box down on the soft white satin of the casket. Chris wouldn’t be at the funeral, but the rest of the family didn’t know that. As far as they were concerned, he was the stubborn child who grandfather had loved, who’d spurned grandfather’s care and dropped out of school, wasted his potential and all his relatives sacrificed for him.
Chris hadn’t wasted anything. Grandfather was the only one who knew that. When Chris swept past Aunt Henrietta, he flashed her a sarcastic smile. If someone dared open the box - for most people didn’t leave gifts till the funeral - they would find the heart of a dragon inside.
Chris had joined the Order.
Overview #4 Random word
Well I had fun this week, I worked mostly on prose but I got a poem out there after being inspired. I'll admit that I have a angst streak running through my writing at present, but sometimes angst makes for great plot and is a good vehicle to express your characters personality. Though I know I should be careful not to let it get to angsty, after all, who wants to read depressing, angry stuff all the time.
I enjoyed working with a new story line, it just started from the random oneword, but it seemed to fit with the random words during the week.
I sill need to work on grammar, but the content of my writing I feel is improving. I liked seeing the different takes that each of us had on a word. I know that even if we went like that for a long time, we would never have the same idea for how to treat each word.
I think by using the random words, this really creates opportunities for new stories to develop. The possible story in the Cathedral, the continuing story of Kim and David, the mysterious singer. I really had a good time this week. I love how one word can bring about an entire story.
(Next week is to you Master)
I enjoyed working with a new story line, it just started from the random oneword, but it seemed to fit with the random words during the week.
I sill need to work on grammar, but the content of my writing I feel is improving. I liked seeing the different takes that each of us had on a word. I know that even if we went like that for a long time, we would never have the same idea for how to treat each word.
I think by using the random words, this really creates opportunities for new stories to develop. The possible story in the Cathedral, the continuing story of Kim and David, the mysterious singer. I really had a good time this week. I love how one word can bring about an entire story.
(Next week is to you Master)
Viewing
Kim looked up at David as if viewing him for the first time. She was utterly confused. She had been surprised when he had pulled the power to her computer but was shocked when he had kissed her.
David smiled his quirky little smile, his hand resting gently on Kim's shoulder, breaking into a grin openly when Kim's mouth opened and closed a few times without making a sound. This was one of the first time that he had ever seen his friend speechless.
Kim raised a hand to her lips, as if to assure herself that what she had felt was real. She had never expected anything like this from David, after all he was handsome, he fit in more with the others than with her, and at times Kim did not know why he stuck around, why he was not repulsed.
In a flash, everything in the world was gone except for him, there was nothing except his bright eyes looking down on her. David watched her for a few minutes, trying to gauge her reaction. He sighed a little in relief when she smiled at him.
Gently moving her hand away from her mouth David leaned in for another kiss.
David smiled his quirky little smile, his hand resting gently on Kim's shoulder, breaking into a grin openly when Kim's mouth opened and closed a few times without making a sound. This was one of the first time that he had ever seen his friend speechless.
Kim raised a hand to her lips, as if to assure herself that what she had felt was real. She had never expected anything like this from David, after all he was handsome, he fit in more with the others than with her, and at times Kim did not know why he stuck around, why he was not repulsed.
In a flash, everything in the world was gone except for him, there was nothing except his bright eyes looking down on her. David watched her for a few minutes, trying to gauge her reaction. He sighed a little in relief when she smiled at him.
Gently moving her hand away from her mouth David leaned in for another kiss.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Care
Kim shrugged, "Why should I care?" She chewed her gum, staring at the computer screen in front of her.
“Don't you care about anything anymore?” David was getting frustrated, it would be near impossible to get through to her at this point.
“Again, can you give me a reason why I should? Anytime I care about anything it is perverted, or destroyed, turned against me.” Kim continued to type away at her keyboard. She as putting the finishing touches on a new program.
Kim continued before David could try to reason with her. “All my life I have been looked down on, despised, made fun of. Why do you think I live in my computer, why do you think that I am what I am. Simply put, I have ceased to care. About people, about anything at all.”
David placed a hand on her shoulder, and she shrugged out from under it. “Why are you here David? Really?”
David sighed and looked around, There was no way that he was getting through to her, without doing something drastic.
“Kim...”
“Just go away David, it's better this way.”
“No.”
David reached around and yanked the power cord from the wall. When Kim looked up at him in shock, he kissed her.
“Don't you care about anything anymore?” David was getting frustrated, it would be near impossible to get through to her at this point.
“Again, can you give me a reason why I should? Anytime I care about anything it is perverted, or destroyed, turned against me.” Kim continued to type away at her keyboard. She as putting the finishing touches on a new program.
Kim continued before David could try to reason with her. “All my life I have been looked down on, despised, made fun of. Why do you think I live in my computer, why do you think that I am what I am. Simply put, I have ceased to care. About people, about anything at all.”
David placed a hand on her shoulder, and she shrugged out from under it. “Why are you here David? Really?”
David sighed and looked around, There was no way that he was getting through to her, without doing something drastic.
“Kim...”
“Just go away David, it's better this way.”
“No.”
David reached around and yanked the power cord from the wall. When Kim looked up at him in shock, he kissed her.
Care
“It says the package is in care of me,” Roger said.
Tyler resisted the urge to heave a frustrated sigh and met his roommate’s gaze. “ ‘In care of’ does not mean subject to the search and inspection of’.”
Roger cast a careless glance at the open package and said, “What are you, a lawyer?”
“Nothing of the sort.” Tyler reached out and picked up the package. He checked its contents with deft, easy motions, ensuring that nothing had been damaged or unduly disturbed. “Did you take anything?”
“No.”
Tyler picked up the magazine and weighed it in his hand. “Then why am I missing two bullets?”
Roger’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell? How would you know I took some?”
Tyler slammed the magazine into the gun, cocked it with smoothly.. “Like I said, I’m not a lawyer. In fact, I’m nothing like one.”
“What are you, then?” Roger’s tone was flippant.
“A man who is easily annoyed by his roommates.” Tyler fired. The bullet hit, right between the eyes, but then he was a good shot. He stepped over Roger’s corpse and opened the front door. Several black-clad, armed men spilled into the apartment.
Tyler said, “Burn it all.”
Tyler resisted the urge to heave a frustrated sigh and met his roommate’s gaze. “ ‘In care of’ does not mean subject to the search and inspection of’.”
Roger cast a careless glance at the open package and said, “What are you, a lawyer?”
“Nothing of the sort.” Tyler reached out and picked up the package. He checked its contents with deft, easy motions, ensuring that nothing had been damaged or unduly disturbed. “Did you take anything?”
“No.”
Tyler picked up the magazine and weighed it in his hand. “Then why am I missing two bullets?”
Roger’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell? How would you know I took some?”
Tyler slammed the magazine into the gun, cocked it with smoothly.. “Like I said, I’m not a lawyer. In fact, I’m nothing like one.”
“What are you, then?” Roger’s tone was flippant.
“A man who is easily annoyed by his roommates.” Tyler fired. The bullet hit, right between the eyes, but then he was a good shot. He stepped over Roger’s corpse and opened the front door. Several black-clad, armed men spilled into the apartment.
Tyler said, “Burn it all.”
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Vain
“Your efforts have been in vain, good sir,” the nameless knight said.
From his spot on the ground, Valerian wasn’t sure the knight’s boastful tone had any merit. Granted, the man outweighed him, but that was mostly the armor, and Valerian wasn’t dead. Or disarmed. He swung his staff up and drove it straight into the knight’s midsection. The man let out an ungainly, pig-like squeak and toppled over like a felled siege tower. The sound of metal hitting the grass was strangely satisfying.
Valerian took his time climbing to his feet and dusting himself off. Then he went to stand over his attacker. He peered down into the knight’s dazed face, amused at the terror he saw when the knight realized his struggle to stand was, indeed, in vain.
“Perhaps, Sir Culligan, you’ll wait and ask a man’s name before you attempt to accost him in such a manner,” Valerian said. He tugged down the collar of his cloak so the knight could see the heavy ruby brooch all of the king’s sons wore, and the horror that blossomed on the knight’s face was gratifying.
“Now, if you would be so kind as to point me toward Amesbury.”
(200 on the nose)
From his spot on the ground, Valerian wasn’t sure the knight’s boastful tone had any merit. Granted, the man outweighed him, but that was mostly the armor, and Valerian wasn’t dead. Or disarmed. He swung his staff up and drove it straight into the knight’s midsection. The man let out an ungainly, pig-like squeak and toppled over like a felled siege tower. The sound of metal hitting the grass was strangely satisfying.
Valerian took his time climbing to his feet and dusting himself off. Then he went to stand over his attacker. He peered down into the knight’s dazed face, amused at the terror he saw when the knight realized his struggle to stand was, indeed, in vain.
“Perhaps, Sir Culligan, you’ll wait and ask a man’s name before you attempt to accost him in such a manner,” Valerian said. He tugged down the collar of his cloak so the knight could see the heavy ruby brooch all of the king’s sons wore, and the horror that blossomed on the knight’s face was gratifying.
“Now, if you would be so kind as to point me toward Amesbury.”
(200 on the nose)
Suspend
"I'm going to suspend you," Captain Jeffries said, "until IA is done investigating this case."
Detective Quinn nodded. "Of course. I'll just give you these, then." He placed his badge and sidearm on the table, saluted sarcastically, and walked out of the Captain's office. Tonight he was going to get rip-roaring drunk, call all of his old high school friends in a fit of stupidity, and then see about getting a new job in the morning. His partner had stabbed him in the back for the last time.
Detective Quinn nodded. "Of course. I'll just give you these, then." He placed his badge and sidearm on the table, saluted sarcastically, and walked out of the Captain's office. Tonight he was going to get rip-roaring drunk, call all of his old high school friends in a fit of stupidity, and then see about getting a new job in the morning. His partner had stabbed him in the back for the last time.
Suspend
Suspended... I never thought that I would hear that word, after all there was no trace, how could they have known it was me. I bet she just picked someone, anyone to blame it on, and she happened to pick me. I know she had her suspicions about the powder incident, but she had no lasting effects, I mean how was I supposed to know she was allergic to Maple pollen. And honestly, do they really think this is going to stop me. I can do anything from anywhere as long as I have a computer available. I can hack any system, I can change anything I want. Hell I might just give her straight F's for the rest of her school career.
The could not have known, and this will never appear on my record at any time.
(This is the new word from oneword.)
The could not have known, and this will never appear on my record at any time.
(This is the new word from oneword.)
Vain
Jill was vain and Kim knew it. She had the perfect body and the perfect face. Jill was always concerned about her appearance, checking herself at least ten times a day in her locker mirror to make sure that her make-up was perfect.
Kim watched from across the quad as Jill dusted powder all over her face, and smiled. Revenge is oh so sweet.
Kim was not even average by society standards, she was not pretty in even the loosest sense of the word, she had lank mousy brown hair and dull brown eyes, she had a bad complexion and she was not thin like the others. She was however a genius. This was the lot in life she had been designated to, having little personal contact she lived in the computer systems. She had hacked the schools database and had learned Jill's locker combination, there she had replaced part of her Ivory face powder with itching powder, just before first period of the day.
It was now lunch and Jill was at her locker, trying desperately to cover up the redness which her itching had awoken in her skin.
Kim smiled, she could hear Jill's scream from the second floor girls restroom.
(Ahhh revenge, word count came out at 200)
Kim watched from across the quad as Jill dusted powder all over her face, and smiled. Revenge is oh so sweet.
Kim was not even average by society standards, she was not pretty in even the loosest sense of the word, she had lank mousy brown hair and dull brown eyes, she had a bad complexion and she was not thin like the others. She was however a genius. This was the lot in life she had been designated to, having little personal contact she lived in the computer systems. She had hacked the schools database and had learned Jill's locker combination, there she had replaced part of her Ivory face powder with itching powder, just before first period of the day.
It was now lunch and Jill was at her locker, trying desperately to cover up the redness which her itching had awoken in her skin.
Kim smiled, she could hear Jill's scream from the second floor girls restroom.
(Ahhh revenge, word count came out at 200)
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Solo
Dime qué haría de mis días,
quien soñaría si no estas.
Cómo podría respirar el aire, lejos de ti.
Cuando no estas aquí.
Solo por ti, caminaría
en la infinidad.
Afrontaría
contigo la eternidad.
Solo por tí...
The seductively gentle voice washed over her, pulling her into it's depths, hypnotizing her. She would follow that voice into the fire's of hell itself.
Alastrina craned her neck to get a glimpse of the singer, but he was in shadows, the only thing visible was the flash of his smile, as his lips poured forth the soul snaring melody. There was a crush of bodies around the stage, and there was no getting through it.
Alastrina felt as if she had heard this voice before, as if it echoed in her soul, begging her to remember a past life. The translation slowly came to her.
Tell me what I would do
With my days
Who could dream
If you weren't there
How could I
Breathe the
Air, far from you
When you're not here
Only for you
I would walk
Into infinity
I would face
Eternity with you
Only for you
She had to find him, his voice called to her.
Remember.
(The song featured above is Solo por Ti, by Josh Groban. MMM that man can sing.
by the way, I don't know where this one came from or where it is going.)
quien soñaría si no estas.
Cómo podría respirar el aire, lejos de ti.
Cuando no estas aquí.
Solo por ti, caminaría
en la infinidad.
Afrontaría
contigo la eternidad.
Solo por tí...
The seductively gentle voice washed over her, pulling her into it's depths, hypnotizing her. She would follow that voice into the fire's of hell itself.
Alastrina craned her neck to get a glimpse of the singer, but he was in shadows, the only thing visible was the flash of his smile, as his lips poured forth the soul snaring melody. There was a crush of bodies around the stage, and there was no getting through it.
Alastrina felt as if she had heard this voice before, as if it echoed in her soul, begging her to remember a past life. The translation slowly came to her.
Tell me what I would do
With my days
Who could dream
If you weren't there
How could I
Breathe the
Air, far from you
When you're not here
Only for you
I would walk
Into infinity
I would face
Eternity with you
Only for you
She had to find him, his voice called to her.
Remember.
(The song featured above is Solo por Ti, by Josh Groban. MMM that man can sing.
by the way, I don't know where this one came from or where it is going.)
Solo
“Flying solo tonight, Maxwell?”
“Funny, Chang, unbelievably so.” He tugged on his gloves, tightened his scarf, checked his flight goggles.
“You can’t blame me - you chose your own name.” Chang looked older now, with short hair, but his face was as severe and serious as he’d been when he was sixteen. Walker might have suspected he’d cut his ponytail in response to Maxwell’s repeated taunts that he was the way he was because his ponytail was too tight, but Chang didn’t seem the like type who would be ruffled by something like that.
“That I did.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I’m flying solo tonight.”
The corner of Chang’s mouth curved up in a genuine smile. “Always evasive and yet never lying.”
Maxwell’s smile might have been sunny on someone else who didn’t have those shadows in his eyes. “What can I say? I was Maxwell’s demon.”
Chang sang, voice surprisingly melodic, “Six feet down at age twenty-five.”
Maxwell nudged his shoulder playfully. “I didn’t think you were the type.”
“I have culture,” Chang said.
“That’s what you to call it.”
“So, Maxwell’s demon rides again?”
“The God of Death is back from hell.”
(Word count: 200 on the nose, references to Shin Kidousenki Gundam Wing; lyrics from The Ballad of Maxwell Demon by Shudder to Think)
“Funny, Chang, unbelievably so.” He tugged on his gloves, tightened his scarf, checked his flight goggles.
“You can’t blame me - you chose your own name.” Chang looked older now, with short hair, but his face was as severe and serious as he’d been when he was sixteen. Walker might have suspected he’d cut his ponytail in response to Maxwell’s repeated taunts that he was the way he was because his ponytail was too tight, but Chang didn’t seem the like type who would be ruffled by something like that.
“That I did.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I’m flying solo tonight.”
The corner of Chang’s mouth curved up in a genuine smile. “Always evasive and yet never lying.”
Maxwell’s smile might have been sunny on someone else who didn’t have those shadows in his eyes. “What can I say? I was Maxwell’s demon.”
Chang sang, voice surprisingly melodic, “Six feet down at age twenty-five.”
Maxwell nudged his shoulder playfully. “I didn’t think you were the type.”
“I have culture,” Chang said.
“That’s what you to call it.”
“So, Maxwell’s demon rides again?”
“The God of Death is back from hell.”
(Word count: 200 on the nose, references to Shin Kidousenki Gundam Wing; lyrics from The Ballad of Maxwell Demon by Shudder to Think)
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
The Rules v. 1.2
All right! So far so good - we're doing well with the rules, adjusting them as necessary and whatnot. I'd just like to add an additional note about the tags and other references:
1. Tags/labels: we've added two new tags, "poetry" and "prose". Please use these tags (and you'll use either one of these tags for every post that isn't an overview, project assignment, or other administrative matter) whenever you post. Hopefully the number of poetry posts will grow as time goes on, but in the meantime there's nothing wrong if the "prose" tag has an overwhelming number of posts. There is an edit post function that allows a poster to go through and add the same tag to multiple posts, so if you feel it ought to be done, do it. As a general rule, try not to mess with someone else's tags, even though right now all the members here are administrators. A little friendly reminder or suggestion about a new tag or necessary tag is perfectly in order and should not be met with offense. In the writing section, the "dialogue" tag has also been added. Not every post will be about characterization, especially if it's a random character with whom the writer never works again, and projects may arise that focus on dialogue, so if a post doesn't focus much on characterization or description (i.e. of a place) see if the dialogue tag fits. Some days, the only tags that might apply are "random" and "prose", and that's fine.
2. References: if at any time a writer references what may be copyrighted material (i.e. song lyrics or something beyond fandom) go ahead and put a note of it in the post somewhere. We're all non-profit here, and some references like to books or shows are obviously copyrighted, but for a reference or allusion that's clear, we'd best throw in the answer (maybe at the bottom so as not to spoil the surprise), not only as a sort of CYA measure but also so other readers who are curious about the reference can find it easily and decide whether or not the allusion was apropos.
3. Drafts: if you do save a draft of a piece that you eventually post, make sure you delete the draft of the piece once you're done working with it so as to save space on the server. If you're confused about this, check the 'edit post' function or leave a message in the comment section and we'll get back to you.
1. Tags/labels: we've added two new tags, "poetry" and "prose". Please use these tags (and you'll use either one of these tags for every post that isn't an overview, project assignment, or other administrative matter) whenever you post. Hopefully the number of poetry posts will grow as time goes on, but in the meantime there's nothing wrong if the "prose" tag has an overwhelming number of posts. There is an edit post function that allows a poster to go through and add the same tag to multiple posts, so if you feel it ought to be done, do it. As a general rule, try not to mess with someone else's tags, even though right now all the members here are administrators. A little friendly reminder or suggestion about a new tag or necessary tag is perfectly in order and should not be met with offense. In the writing section, the "dialogue" tag has also been added. Not every post will be about characterization, especially if it's a random character with whom the writer never works again, and projects may arise that focus on dialogue, so if a post doesn't focus much on characterization or description (i.e. of a place) see if the dialogue tag fits. Some days, the only tags that might apply are "random" and "prose", and that's fine.
2. References: if at any time a writer references what may be copyrighted material (i.e. song lyrics or something beyond fandom) go ahead and put a note of it in the post somewhere. We're all non-profit here, and some references like to books or shows are obviously copyrighted, but for a reference or allusion that's clear, we'd best throw in the answer (maybe at the bottom so as not to spoil the surprise), not only as a sort of CYA measure but also so other readers who are curious about the reference can find it easily and decide whether or not the allusion was apropos.
3. Drafts: if you do save a draft of a piece that you eventually post, make sure you delete the draft of the piece once you're done working with it so as to save space on the server. If you're confused about this, check the 'edit post' function or leave a message in the comment section and we'll get back to you.
Cathedral
“Cathedral,” Cyrus said, “from the original Greek kathedra, stolen by the Romans and misspelled into cathedra, meaning seat, as in the seat or throne of the actual bishop, which resided in a specific church. Cathedral by itself is a misnomer - the proper name of this building is cathedral church.”
“Thanks for the lesson in etymology, oh Akashic Brother mine,” Morgan said, and dragged a finger up her forearm, tracing the blood tattoos, choosing. Magic whispered in the air as she drew a spear from her skin and spun it in the air. “That’s not why we’re here.”
“Such a cliché, in a cathedral like this,” Lyle said, and shifted his modified night-vision goggles. The exterior of the building sported stained glass windows and the flying buttresses of gothic nightmares. The interior had been bombed and was little more than a husk, the floor strewn with the remains of pews, cushions, quire seats.
“Cliché how?” Cyrus asked.
Selene sang softly, off-key, “You live in a church where you sleep with voodoo dolls.”
All four of them stared at the nest of rags that served as a bed; it was surrounded by voodoo dolls.
“Rogue mages,” Morgan said, and threw.
(Word count: 200 on the nose; oblique and vague reference to White Wolf's Mage: The Awakening; lyrics from Sarah McLachlan's "Building a Mystery")
“Thanks for the lesson in etymology, oh Akashic Brother mine,” Morgan said, and dragged a finger up her forearm, tracing the blood tattoos, choosing. Magic whispered in the air as she drew a spear from her skin and spun it in the air. “That’s not why we’re here.”
“Such a cliché, in a cathedral like this,” Lyle said, and shifted his modified night-vision goggles. The exterior of the building sported stained glass windows and the flying buttresses of gothic nightmares. The interior had been bombed and was little more than a husk, the floor strewn with the remains of pews, cushions, quire seats.
“Cliché how?” Cyrus asked.
Selene sang softly, off-key, “You live in a church where you sleep with voodoo dolls.”
All four of them stared at the nest of rags that served as a bed; it was surrounded by voodoo dolls.
“Rogue mages,” Morgan said, and threw.
(Word count: 200 on the nose; oblique and vague reference to White Wolf's Mage: The Awakening; lyrics from Sarah McLachlan's "Building a Mystery")
Cathedral
Whispers echoed through the ancient cathedral, ghosts of ages past and promises of the future.
Amara ran her fingers over the worn stonework and gazed up in wonder at the impossibly high ceilings, they defied gravity. The pews were of dark stained and scarred wood, the cushions were threadbare and deteriorating.
Amara jumped ever so slightly when the bells tolled out the hours, it was twilight. Nervous, Amara backed up, she had no idea that anyone was here, it had looked abandoned from the front.
Stepping back Amara let out a small scream as she stepped out onto nothing. Wide eyed, Amara pinwheeled her arms, trying to regain her balance when a hand came out of no where and grabbed her wrist.
Amara felt herself pulled forward, away from the gaping darkness below her; into a solid chest.
Gasping she had wrapped her arms around the person before her, trying to steady herself. When she had control over herself she looked up, and into the most piercing green eyes she had ever seen. The smile matched the twinkle of amusement in the handsome face before her.
"That was a close one," the stranger said, pulling Amara away from the stairs.
Amara ran her fingers over the worn stonework and gazed up in wonder at the impossibly high ceilings, they defied gravity. The pews were of dark stained and scarred wood, the cushions were threadbare and deteriorating.
Amara jumped ever so slightly when the bells tolled out the hours, it was twilight. Nervous, Amara backed up, she had no idea that anyone was here, it had looked abandoned from the front.
Stepping back Amara let out a small scream as she stepped out onto nothing. Wide eyed, Amara pinwheeled her arms, trying to regain her balance when a hand came out of no where and grabbed her wrist.
Amara felt herself pulled forward, away from the gaping darkness below her; into a solid chest.
Gasping she had wrapped her arms around the person before her, trying to steady herself. When she had control over herself she looked up, and into the most piercing green eyes she had ever seen. The smile matched the twinkle of amusement in the handsome face before her.
"That was a close one," the stranger said, pulling Amara away from the stairs.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Convertible
"It's a convertible," Joe said proudly.
Jesse stared at the lumpy sofa-turned-futon and nodded. "Thanks, mate, I really appreciate it."
Joe peered closer. "Dude, you have a black eye."
Jesse ducked back out of Joe's reach. "Mobbed by fans. It's no big deal." He dropped his duffel bag on the floor. "Thanks again."
Joe nodded and headed for the door. "Sleep well. Stop any burglars for me."
Jesse laughed. "If you think I can."
Jesse stared at the lumpy sofa-turned-futon and nodded. "Thanks, mate, I really appreciate it."
Joe peered closer. "Dude, you have a black eye."
Jesse ducked back out of Joe's reach. "Mobbed by fans. It's no big deal." He dropped his duffel bag on the floor. "Thanks again."
Joe nodded and headed for the door. "Sleep well. Stop any burglars for me."
Jesse laughed. "If you think I can."
Convertible
The convertible flew down the highway faster than was safe, faster than she could see. She couldn't see anyway, her tears were coming to thick to be able to make out much of the road through the windshield. She was fleeing, trying to escape the pain of all that was behind her, she didn't know if she could get far enough away to make a difference, to be able to put it all behind her.
Endless
(Authors note: poem for poem my friend, and it turned out to be 100 words on the nose, though I was not trying for that.)
He promised me an endless summer,
but all I have is winter, barren and cold
He promised me rainbows and pots of gold,
and all I got was a patch of thorns.
He promised to make me fly, together forever,
my wings are broken beyond repair.
He promised me a dream,
I got the nightmare.
He promised a soul for a soul,
He sent a wraith.
He promised inspiration,
There was only a cloud of confusion.
He promised laughter,
he left tears behind.
He promised me trust,
he lied.
He promised me an endless summer,
but all I have is winter, barren and cold
He promised me rainbows and pots of gold,
and all I got was a patch of thorns.
He promised to make me fly, together forever,
my wings are broken beyond repair.
He promised me a dream,
I got the nightmare.
He promised a soul for a soul,
He sent a wraith.
He promised inspiration,
There was only a cloud of confusion.
He promised laughter,
he left tears behind.
He promised me trust,
he lied.
Endless
Endless rain to drench a ray of sunshine,
Soaked through to the bone and shivering,
Trembling, teeth clenched to stave off the sobs,
Breath locked in his throat surceases sound.
Head tipped back
As rivulets trace lines, stories, poems down his skin,
The trip-hammer of raindrops on his face
Is the too-fast rhythm in his chest.
Fall on my heart
He sings,
On the wound of my heart
And it drips, fire-brand ache, a gash through living flesh.
He prays,
Let me forget
All of the hate
All of the sadness.
When the clouds scatter like birds
At the sound of gunfire
He’ll wish he’d had metal
And his choice of lightning.
(Word count comes in at 115; lyrics cribbed off of X Japan's Endless Rain)
Soaked through to the bone and shivering,
Trembling, teeth clenched to stave off the sobs,
Breath locked in his throat surceases sound.
Head tipped back
As rivulets trace lines, stories, poems down his skin,
The trip-hammer of raindrops on his face
Is the too-fast rhythm in his chest.
Fall on my heart
He sings,
On the wound of my heart
And it drips, fire-brand ache, a gash through living flesh.
He prays,
Let me forget
All of the hate
All of the sadness.
When the clouds scatter like birds
At the sound of gunfire
He’ll wish he’d had metal
And his choice of lightning.
(Word count comes in at 115; lyrics cribbed off of X Japan's Endless Rain)
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