What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the inspiration word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just take your inspiration from that word.
This week’s inspiration word is: HORROR
I decided to keep the feel of my "Lagoon" story -- creating a bit of scare tactics for Annie and Abigail, except Abigail is the one who is literally stuck in the mud......
I started to feel the repulsive mud seep between my toes. I observed my surroundings, using only my memory of the woods. Just then, I remembered there was an elongated, green vine that looked like an elephant’s nose, but nothing surrounded me except this treacherous lake that was full of dirt and moss. My breath formed a smoke like ring around me because the night air was frigid. There was no moon reflection on the water and there was no sound to be heard - except for the echo of my silent cries.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
I Thought I Saw
Write On Wednesdays Exercise 20 - Write the words " I thought I saw" at the top of your page. Set a timer for 5 minutes. Write the first words that come into your head after the prompt. Don't take you pen off the page (or fingers off the keyboard). Stop only when the buzzer rings! Do this exercise over and over if you wish. Write beyond 5 minutes if you like, you can link it up as an extra post.
This is week 12 for me and I fell in love with this exercise. Though I do not have children, this piece was about me seeing my child in the future. Hope all of you will enjoy reading this as I did writing it.
This is week 12 for me and I fell in love with this exercise. Though I do not have children, this piece was about me seeing my child in the future. Hope all of you will enjoy reading this as I did writing it.
I thought I saw you smile as if it were for the first time. Your innocent cerulean eyes squinted beneath your nose as you beamed with delight. Tiny hands began to coil around mine – taking a hold of me as if you were troubled about the future. You were afraid of the dark – the gloomy night that surrounded you.
You thought you saw a monster; a gangly creature that hid beneath your bed. Nothing but dust bunnies and wild treasures of imagination lay underneath the surface of the floor. I scooped you up and placed you in my arms. I could feel the balminess of you heating every fiber of my heart. The scent of baby powder escaped from your skin and I breathed in every moment of innocence I had with you.
The night was still lengthy and quiet. Your sluggish eyes started to close and drift into a realm of imagination. I placed you back into your bed and watched as you gently snoozed. This was a moment that kept me awake, for I would be afraid of missing seconds with you.
You woke the next morning to convey your creative dreams – a bunny with elongated ears hopping to tell you about a dinosaur that came to town. I would giggle as you would embrace me with your character of life. Your skin glowed as the sun braced your face. I felt a sense of sorrow wash over me. I knew that someday I would have to let you go.
You would grow up to be a handsome young man. Perhaps an intellectual doctor or a painter that splashed romance on a canvas would be your profession of choice. You would dance into the arms of a lover and marry for the first time.
I thought I saw a boy who cached rays of sunshine in a bucket. A petite child with such a vast heart would embrace my world – a child that I would call my son.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Five Sentence Fiction - "Shenanigans"
What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the inspiration word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just take your inspiration from that word.
This week’s inspiration word is: SHENANIGANS
I am still developing the main concept of my fiction piece "Enraptured Lagoon" from Write Out Wednesday...... I love this word and tried my best to incorporate the meaning in my piece. :)
The August night air was clammy and damp; making it hard to breathe while rummaging through the forest. The clouds were beginning to bury the crescent moon and all I could think about was how my sister always teased me. There was constantly a raucous caused by Annie at birthday parties, fall festivals, and even last year at Donna Fowley’s wedding. I grew jaded of my sister’s pranks; especially since I always had to come rescue her when the jokes would go wrong. I had no means to salvage her from this incident.
This week’s inspiration word is: SHENANIGANS
I am still developing the main concept of my fiction piece "Enraptured Lagoon" from Write Out Wednesday...... I love this word and tried my best to incorporate the meaning in my piece. :)
The August night air was clammy and damp; making it hard to breathe while rummaging through the forest. The clouds were beginning to bury the crescent moon and all I could think about was how my sister always teased me. There was constantly a raucous caused by Annie at birthday parties, fall festivals, and even last year at Donna Fowley’s wedding. I grew jaded of my sister’s pranks; especially since I always had to come rescue her when the jokes would go wrong. I had no means to salvage her from this incident.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Enraptured Lagoon
My 11th week for the WOW exercises. This week we are to use the line "Sunshine in a cup" by Emily Dickenson and write what comes to mind.
Though I usually write poetry, I am trying to escape from my normal realm for awhile and write a bit of fiction. This is simple yet a bit mysterious. Hope you all will enjoy reading it as much as I did writing the first part of it......
It was the middle of August and the heat was beginning to diminish as the day grew concise. My older sister Annie wanted to take a dip in the lake before the sun went down. Of course I always had to go with Annie wherever she went. Though she was two years older than me, I was much more prudent and wise. Annie was considered to be sunshine in a cup - a ball of freshness one might say. She could never do anything that was sinful. But in reality, she would always end up in danger. I had to come salvage her most of the time. After all, she was my sister and I did love her.
“Enchanted Lake” is what people in town called the lake. Supposedly, if you swam in the lake for more than twenty minutes, a mermaid would emerge and grant you one wish. I’ve been swimming in the lake since I was five years old. I am now 15.
Annie was always the believer in mythical creatures. Though she had never seen this mermaid, she had one of her feelings today that she might catch a glimpse of her. I took her by the hand as we walked together towards the lake. Out of curiosity I asked her what she would wish for if she were to see this mermaid.
“I am going to wish to be with my secret love.” she said as she smiled with such ecstasy.
I scoffed and asked “Who might that be Annie?”
“Mr. Gabe. I saw him three times yesterday and each time I could see that he was interested in me.” Annie said to her sister Abigail.
“Annie, Mr. Gabe is nearing 25 years old. You are only 17. Mama would never hear of it!”
“Oh Abigail, you will soon find out what it is like to find love.”
I rolled my eyes and began to think about myself for a minute. If there was a mermaid and I did have the chance to make a wish, what would I wish for?
Though I usually write poetry, I am trying to escape from my normal realm for awhile and write a bit of fiction. This is simple yet a bit mysterious. Hope you all will enjoy reading it as much as I did writing the first part of it......
It was the middle of August and the heat was beginning to diminish as the day grew concise. My older sister Annie wanted to take a dip in the lake before the sun went down. Of course I always had to go with Annie wherever she went. Though she was two years older than me, I was much more prudent and wise. Annie was considered to be sunshine in a cup - a ball of freshness one might say. She could never do anything that was sinful. But in reality, she would always end up in danger. I had to come salvage her most of the time. After all, she was my sister and I did love her.
“Enchanted Lake” is what people in town called the lake. Supposedly, if you swam in the lake for more than twenty minutes, a mermaid would emerge and grant you one wish. I’ve been swimming in the lake since I was five years old. I am now 15.
Annie was always the believer in mythical creatures. Though she had never seen this mermaid, she had one of her feelings today that she might catch a glimpse of her. I took her by the hand as we walked together towards the lake. Out of curiosity I asked her what she would wish for if she were to see this mermaid.
“I am going to wish to be with my secret love.” she said as she smiled with such ecstasy.
I scoffed and asked “Who might that be Annie?”
“Mr. Gabe. I saw him three times yesterday and each time I could see that he was interested in me.” Annie said to her sister Abigail.
“Annie, Mr. Gabe is nearing 25 years old. You are only 17. Mama would never hear of it!”
“Oh Abigail, you will soon find out what it is like to find love.”
I rolled my eyes and began to think about myself for a minute. If there was a mermaid and I did have the chance to make a wish, what would I wish for?
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
The Clock Read Seven
My 10th entry to the WOW writing group has surfaced!! I began to write something similar to this when the "Clock winked" exercise came up, but I never posted it because I had little confidence. LOL. I have tweaked it a bit and tried to get out of my poetry escapades. I decided to use this piece for the "Make it Better" exercise. If you have any suggestions on how to keep my poetry voice when writing fiction, I am all ears. :)
The clock read seven.
His hands ruffled through the crispy leaves, while he was trying to find a spot to lay on. He beamed as he dipped his hands in his pockets. The pockets were full of dirt; grime that ran deeper into the core of the earth. It was his dirt he thought. His life was packed away in his pockets.
Another day of a tin can banged in the wind. It would fluctuate with the air stream, making a musical dance of a lonely life. Many people stopped, but never remained. Perhaps a penny may appear. “No, it is not time.” he thought to himself.
The chill in the air was beginning to accompany him. He designed a blanket of yellow and orange leaves; patching them all together creating a quilt of sunsets. His flesh was breaking due to the bitter winds, but his essence was cordial.
The cloudless atmosphere turned into a black hole of rain. He watched as people splashed their muddy life on his beard; a life that he chose not to return to.
His muddy tears dried but remained on his heart. “It is now time.” he said to himself. A young man appeared, drenched with pearls of water. “Let’s go dad.”
He glanced at his son’s watch, remembering when he bought it for him years ago. The golden exterior was beginning to fade, much like his sons life. Things were now changing.
The clock read seven.
The clock read seven.
His hands ruffled through the crispy leaves, while he was trying to find a spot to lay on. He beamed as he dipped his hands in his pockets. The pockets were full of dirt; grime that ran deeper into the core of the earth. It was his dirt he thought. His life was packed away in his pockets.
Another day of a tin can banged in the wind. It would fluctuate with the air stream, making a musical dance of a lonely life. Many people stopped, but never remained. Perhaps a penny may appear. “No, it is not time.” he thought to himself.
The chill in the air was beginning to accompany him. He designed a blanket of yellow and orange leaves; patching them all together creating a quilt of sunsets. His flesh was breaking due to the bitter winds, but his essence was cordial.
The cloudless atmosphere turned into a black hole of rain. He watched as people splashed their muddy life on his beard; a life that he chose not to return to.
His muddy tears dried but remained on his heart. “It is now time.” he said to himself. A young man appeared, drenched with pearls of water. “Let’s go dad.”
He glanced at his son’s watch, remembering when he bought it for him years ago. The golden exterior was beginning to fade, much like his sons life. Things were now changing.
The clock read seven.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Body Canvas
I believe this would be my 9th week with my WOW writing group. We are left we the option of chosing one of the previous exercises --- I took a little piece from every exercise and came up with this. I used alot of imagery - mainly from the "Go for a walk" exercise and "Sit under a tree" exercise and created a lump of metaphors for making love.
The color of red seeps from your fingertips - emerging the blood flow between us.
My body compels into your core - illuminating the orange peel of our essence.
The formation of sweat leaks out of our pours while creating a yellow hue of the sun.
The green earth is our backdrop; making the leaves expand as our bodies grow.
I see my features - my soul’s reflection in your sapphire eyes.
As the night begins to take command of the day, black surrounds us and we are left with a streaming pearl of light.
White is the pigment of our complexion that has been conducting music - a saxophone with notes of lilac jazz. It produces a soulful rhythm sound of cerise passion - sprinkled with specks of devotion on a canvas.
The color of red seeps from your fingertips - emerging the blood flow between us.
My body compels into your core - illuminating the orange peel of our essence.
The formation of sweat leaks out of our pours while creating a yellow hue of the sun.
The green earth is our backdrop; making the leaves expand as our bodies grow.
I see my features - my soul’s reflection in your sapphire eyes.
As the night begins to take command of the day, black surrounds us and we are left with a streaming pearl of light.
White is the pigment of our complexion that has been conducting music - a saxophone with notes of lilac jazz. It produces a soulful rhythm sound of cerise passion - sprinkled with specks of devotion on a canvas.
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