Author Topic: A short experience; Writing exercise  (Read 1352 times)

BearKnight

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A short experience; Writing exercise
« on: August 09, 2016, 03:05:00 PM »
Decided to make a post (unsure if it has been done) where we each describe an experience, regardless of it being fictional etc, or from which point of view.

basically just a descriptive writing experiment.

My heart is pounding like war-drums echoing through my mind like a vast canyon, my heart resting at the bottom of this bottomless pit of welling emotions.

I know he's looking at me because his perfect lips are moving as his dazzling eyes trace my expression. Oh God. They're like diamonds, but more precious. I'm losing it.
     "John?" he says, like a warm hand squeezing my heart gently...
     "Sorry.. what did you say?". I try to pass it off like I have countless times. Good God, I love him so much but it burns. It burns like fire that I can't tell him. I can't tell anyone.



Lady Grey

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Re: A short experience; Writing exercise
« Reply #1 on: August 09, 2016, 05:07:36 PM »
Ooh, I think this is really cool! :D
The things that inspire me to write are usually little bits like this that pop into my head. :)

comrade_general

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Re: A short experience; Writing exercise
« Reply #2 on: August 09, 2016, 08:35:19 PM »
Is this a coming out of the closet thing?
I'd be more apathetic if I weren't so lethargic.

Jubal

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Re: A short experience; Writing exercise
« Reply #3 on: August 09, 2016, 09:11:14 PM »
I don't think so, CG, but if you need to use it for that feel free :)
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

comrade_general

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Re: A short experience; Writing exercise
« Reply #4 on: August 09, 2016, 09:12:08 PM »
Just seems like it from what BK wrote.
I'd be more apathetic if I weren't so lethargic.

BearKnight

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Re: A short experience; Writing exercise
« Reply #5 on: August 10, 2016, 07:02:28 AM »
Nah :P although perhaps do some writing here?

The clanging of hammers and billowing bellows resonated through the cavernous depths of Black-soot bay. Fire and smoke plumed from chimneys and furnaces throughout the hold, rooms and corridors carved out of the center of the mountain.

Ghulmar watched as the large stone doors that provided the safety and solitude of the stronghold opened wide, mechanisms clinking and clanking as the thick stone slabs parted from each other gradually, the prestigious crests that adorned them representing each of the proud dwarfen clans. A large formation of immigrants trampled through the gates, their brows furrowed and feet bleeding as their tattered boots grated against the rough ground of the caves. Ghulmar spat on the sorry sight and turned his back to them as they entered the citadel, hungry mouths and weakened bodies. A stain against the honour of his proud line. Never would he accept this to be his fate.

Lady Grey

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Re: A short experience; Writing exercise
« Reply #6 on: October 18, 2016, 10:55:23 PM »
'I try to move as silently as possible, feeling all too aware that my motions are still detectable. I feel the shallow breaths I cannot help catching in my chest, and the flow of blood increasing in my cheeks. An unpleasant spreading of heat burns up my face, underneath my lower eyelids and I try desperately to fight the urge to screw up my eyes, tears forming unwillingly in them. I tuck my chin further into my chest, feeling my own soft hair brushing over my collarbones, causing me to shudder as I hurry on.
As I reach the doorway, a wave of release washes over me, manifesting itself as an odd tingling sensation. As I walk into the safe space, I inhale deeply, the scent of millions of pages yet to be read comforts me. I lift my head at last.'

Jubal

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Re: A short experience; Writing exercise
« Reply #7 on: January 01, 2018, 11:58:22 PM »
The embers guttered, belching out little wisps of grey into the dying air of the evening. She sat quietly, arms loose but hands closed tight, unmoving except for an occasional slow blink and a gentle, slow furrowing of the brow.

Her face was gouged with shadows beyond her years; another night she had slept ill, and the dreams were becoming a pounding, slow fear. If they were dreams, the ones where her sleeping self saw the end of the grey roads that her waking self saw open and stretch into the distance. Tired, deep into her bones, her eyes slunk down into the embers.

Much in her was still pained by who she was becoming, but she closed her eyes and let the pain flow into her all the same. She opened them, and saw the embers again, wreathed in their last halos of ash-flakes, little red angry angels dying in a world of grey. She spoke into the darkness, for no ears but her own.

"I desire no pain, but I do not deny it. In frost, it drives me to the flame. I seek no revenge... but I demand a reckoning."

She opened her hands. Two more coals. She let them fall onto the embers, gave a wry, shadowed smile, filled her lungs with the fast-cooling air - and breathed life into the flame.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Caradìlis

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Re: A short experience; Writing exercise
« Reply #8 on: January 02, 2018, 08:40:15 AM »
Silence, only the ticking sounds of the clock are echoing through the room. I close my eyes and breathe. It has been a long time since I have last heard silence. It feels like an eternity. I can feel the air rush trough my lungs, fresh and clean and it feels like I have not breathed in ages. You forget how to do that. Everyone is bustling around, there is noise and chatter everywhere and the clocks are silent. Time seems to last forever and it is crushing me.
But now, there is silence. Now, I can breathe. I am alone, wrapped in the familiar sound of nothingness. My eyes are still closed, my mind still focused on my breathing. I will not think of days gone by. Right now, I am only here. Right here, where I belong.
Silence, only the ticking sounds of the clock are echoing through the room. Time is moving forward again. I smile gently. I breathe deeply. Finally, I am home.
"Those who don't beieve in magic will never find it." - Roald Dahl

Jubal

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Re: A short experience; Writing exercise
« Reply #9 on: January 11, 2018, 11:02:49 PM »
A more upbeat one:

Quote
One thought remained, and one alone.

Up.

Through the tunnels, a rattling, a pull and a whine and a drag against the gravity behind.

Up.

Breaking the grass-line, whipped by plant leaves, air in vortexes whirling and wheeling.

Up.

Toward the canopy, hurtling, fighting, strong through the wind, the air moulding and bending to our will.

Up.

And onward, and out; as the world stretched out below, onward and away to everywhere, we soared. Onward, and onward, and onward, our home in the sky-bound eternities of the cloudscape, our dreams roared like thunder and our hopes bright as lightning. We had found our sky, our destiny - and our home.
The duke, the wanderer, the philosopher, the mariner, the warrior, the strategist, the storyteller, the wizard, the wayfarer...

Caradìlis

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Re: A short experience; Writing exercise
« Reply #10 on: January 12, 2018, 10:50:00 AM »
Bare and brown, the forest's branches sway in the light breeze heralding her approach. They have been waiting for her. She turns to look around. Ice and snow are melting away, the water seeping into the thawing earth. The icicles that formed in her absence, hanging from trees and rocks, alike now drip clear molten drops and the rivers are running merrily again. They are glad to be free once more. They are glad to see her again, she knows. They have missed her for so long. She kneels to the ground. It feels good to be home, to breathe the fresh air of the skies again. But something is missing. Something they have all been waiting for. Gently, she places her hand on the forest floor and all around her, the world awakes from her winter's sleep. The grass is growing, sprouting fresh green blades, the trees sprout leaves of green and blossoms in white and pink and apricot and wildflowers lift their heads from their long sleep to greet her. And up in the trees the birds now sing: "Welcome our Lady Spring!"
« Last Edit: January 12, 2018, 10:58:52 AM by Caradìlis »
"Those who don't beieve in magic will never find it." - Roald Dahl