|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Falling: Writing Prompt 7 Elmer was already fourteen years old, and had yet to give up hope. For the Cliff People, this was absurdly old to still cling to the fragile belief that there was something more out there. It never even occurred to most people that there might be something beyond straight up and down, beyond the frigid world high above the clouds. He couldn't admit defeat yet though, not without at least trying to see if Sean had been right all along.
Elmer sat cross legged at the top of the village, peering warily out over the edge. The village was set in the side of the world, a system of tunnels and caves winding its way into the side of the cliff. The village was darkest at its heart, deep in the cliff's side, the light gradually growing grayer and more natural where it leaked into the rooms and halls from outside. Beyond these outermost rooms there was nothing, just a sheer drop away into the clouds bel
LooLa's 100 Themes List1) Beginning
7) The First Time
9) Growing Up
13) Sea Glass
15) Fight or Flight
16) Skeletons in the Closet
17) Six Feet Under
21) Creative Visualization
22) New Growth
23) Flash Flood
25) Where No Man Has Gone Before
27) Over the Moon
28) Thin Ice
34) Night Light
43) Pearly Gates
48) Out of the Blue
49) Home Stretch
52) Time Travel
54) Treasure Map
57) Twenty-Four Hours
58) Abandon Ship
65) City Lights
70) Golden Years
Things Could Be Worse: WP 5 The sands billowed over the empty landscape, twisting into archaic shapes, golden against the blue sky. He blinks slowly, once, twice, three times. Well, he's alive. Which is good, right? Why can't he remember if that's good or not? He racks his brain, trying to come up with something, anything. Finally, a name wanders aimlessly across his brain.
Jack, Jack Brenner
Oh. His name, that's it. With that a thousand memories come swirling to the surface, the past weeks flashing before his eyes in a matter of seconds. Times were hard so he got the first job he could, as a crew man aboard a ship with a suspicious background. They roamed from port to port, gaining and unloading cargo, occasionally 'borrowing' items from passing ships. Until he came to one port these memories were fuzzier. Lying there on the sand, Jack had to scramble to hold on to the t
The Sinking: Writing Prompt 3 The sea's churn wildly, the entire island held motionless, breathless in preparation. A young girl stands facing her mother, eyes wide in terror. "What's going to happen mum?"
Her mother, distracted, rubs the little girls head absentmindedly, "Nothing dear, just another earthquake." The girl can tell it's a lie though; by the way her mother's voice cracks as she stammers out the statement, trying to sound reassuring.
She reaches out to grab her mother's hand, squeezing tightly. Around them, the waves churn, the land creaks, and the city waits. Her mother has been dreaming of this night for weeks, in her strange dreams of the future. Tonight their home will slip beneath the waves. "Momma, why us?" The girl whispers, clinging tighter to her mother, pressing her face to her mother's cloak and breathing in the scent of home.
"Long ago the great sea god was given rule over this land. Our country was once prosperous, but we have grown vain and
Miracle Cow-Writing Prompt 2Jim was lying down in the loft of the old barn, blinking past the straw tickling his nose. He and his dad had been up here for hours, watching their old cow, Betsy. Betsy had been pregnant for what seemed like an awfully long time now, and in the past week Dad had started coming up to the loft every night to watch and see if Betsy would have her baby. Jimmy had only been coming up to the loft the past two days, since it was the weekend. He couldn't stay up on school nights, but tonight was Saturday night. Tonight was special; surely everything good happened on Saturday night. That's what Jim's older sister had always told him at least.
Still, it was almost two in the morning and the only thing Betsy had done was eat. A lot. Jim almost reaches out to nudge his Dad and ask if he can go back to the house when he pauses. His Dad is fast asleep, leaning against a hay bale. Jim frowns at his father's sleeping form and turns back to staring intently at the cow. His dad is counting on him! He
Abandoned-Writing Prompt 1 Isabella's footsteps echo through the abandoned streets, desolate buildings leaning in above her. The cold night air pushes its way into her lungs, freezing her from the inside. Bone aching weariness gnaws at her, but still she pushes on. Somewhere in this abandoned city, someone has to be alive. She clings to that hope fiercely, because without it succumbing to the darkness flickering at the edge of her consciousness would be all too easy. It has been nearly a week since they left, everyone she knew, everyone she loves, everyone she hates. The memories of their flight still flicker before her eyes, obstructing her view of the present.
She stood on the street corner, sidling as close as she dared to a vendor to steal an apple. As her fingers closed around the red sphere the man turned to her, immediately growing red in the face and opening his mouth to say something. After a moment's thought, however, he stopped. "Take all you want, they'll bec
This Was Not Part Of The PlanHis feet slip quietly over the wood floor, hugging close to the wall to avoid any creaky floorboards. The room is dark, lit only by the city lights outside. Far below, twenty stories to be exact, cars rush past, always on a hurry to somewhere, even at this late hour. He surveys the room once more, checking for some sign of another person, an alarm, anything to give away his presence. No good. With the room clear he slips quietly over to the dresser, pulling drawers open quickly, supporting the underside so that it won't make a noise as he pulls it out. A quick rifling through reveals that this drawer contains nothing but socks and underwear. Very nice, frilly underwear. He's only human, so he can't help but stop to appreciate the high-class quality. No, focus. He needs to get in and out as quickly as possible.
The next drawer reveals nothing but folded jeans, and so it continues. Only clothing in this area. He continues on, pawing through the closet and bookshelves before reachin
Forging a New Fortune Her footsteps wound among the assorted collection of carts and horses, trying not to see what was going on around her. The little caravan stunk of poverty and pride, its people traveling entertainers, scraping whatever living they could get. Despite the desperate conditions the atmosphere was thriving, pulsing with life of a darker and more exciting sort than she encountered in her day to day life. Music blared, a combination of drums and a string instrument of some sort floated past her ears, accompanied by singing and harsh laughter. The young woman retreated further inside her thick velvet cloak, the hood shadowing a determined pale face framed in thick dark hair. She makes her way to a small cart on the edge of the gypsy's encampment, banging on the door with a closed fist.
"Lady Gynehva?" She calls out, her voice quiet. She clears her throat and tries again, "Lady Gynehva!" She calls, louder this time.
"Yes?" A tiny slat at the
Elementary, My Dear Sister."Come on Jenny!" Two young girls make their way down the street, Alice trailing reluctantly behind Jenny. The suburban street lays quiet and peaceful, it's the time of day when most people are either at work or napping, unless you happen to be a bored child on the last week of summer vacation. In the case of these two bored children, the thing to do on a quiet afternoon is find an adventure. Jenny, the younger of the two sisters, has borrowed a trench coat and magnifying glass from her father for the occasion. Her curly brown hair is held in place by a rubber band, her nose pressed within an inch of the magnifying glass, inspecting the sidewalk as she shuffles along.
Alice, the reluctant sidekick, follows along behind Jenny, her blond hair done in a slightly more stylish bob, a pad and pen clenched in one hand, a cell phone in the back pocket of her mini shorts. The last thing a thirteen year old girl wants to do is spend the day babysitting her kid sister, but somehow that's what Alic
Keep in Touch!