Author Topic: Drivel  (Read 1597 times)

Offline Terrasque

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Drivel
« on: October 24, 2007, 11:11:51 PM »
Write a scene in roughly five paragraphs.  It can be any genre you desire.  I don't know how well this will turn out, but I thought it would be fun. :D

Here are the rules:

1. Write it in five paragraphs, no more, no less.
2. Each new start of dialog counts as a paragraph!
3. Use your own work and try not to copy others' entries.
4. Have fun with this, so I don't feel like a complete failure. ;)


First one!  Yeah! ::)

She stared at his back as he stood before her.  Could it be him?  She knew it was him – it had to be him.  He turned to face her, and she gasped in faint horror; holding her breath as she looked upon his now rampant face.  His raging eyes softened as they came to rest on her, a heavy sadness rising in them.

Maybe it was love that pushed her, maybe something else, but she slowly stepped toward him, reaching her hand out to him.  His eyes flashed, and he swiveled his head, snorting thick vapor from his nasal canal, which glowed and cracked inside like hot embers, in an attempt to scare her away.  He didn’t want it; inside he wished he could wrap his arms around her and feel hers around him, but he did not want her to see him like this.

She remained unfazed, reaching her delicate hand up and placing it on the stripped bear skull that now graphed onto his own skull, replacing the lower half of his gaunt face.  He closed his eyes and pressed his muzzle against her palm, lifting his own hand to cover hers, but ultimately deciding against it.  He looked at her, his deep, piercing blue eyes entrapping hers as they always did, and she smiled – no longer fearing.

Growling softly, his eyes filled again with sadness and longing, making her heart sink to her heels.  They both knew they could never be together now.  She almost wished she had listened to her gut and ran when he first lunged down to save her, but instantly forgot that wish as he carefully pulled her into him; squeezing her tightly.  She wrapped her arms around his lean body, and breathed in the last remnants of his sweet smell that remained on his tattered clothes.

“What have they done to you?” she whispered, hot tears filling her clenched eyes, and he tightened his protective embrace around her.

   – an abridged excerpt from a book I’m writing, Cry Fall.


If you’d like to help me with this book, please visit this thread! http://www.mywriterscircle.com/index.php?topic=10934.0
« Last Edit: October 24, 2007, 11:25:28 PM by Terrasque »
Words are the only bullets in truth's bandoleer.  And poets are the snipers.

I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affection and the truth of Imagination -- What the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -- whether it existed before or not.