Recent comments in /f/WritingPrompts

introverted_russian t1_j7v860x wrote

Reply to [WP] According to astronomy, wishes take thousands or even millions of years to arrive to the wishing stars. Today, wishes from people long past are starting to come true. by WorsCartoonist

"I have never seen such a large snake" Said the news reporter on 5news. Egh why not lets watch this bullshit report, it's most probably fake. I sit down with a cup of coffee in the morning to see whats going on. Not much is happening, except a large snake like head laying in the sand, most probably some project made by some architects or another mystery of the desert.

​

Fuck it, I don't have time for this I have to go to work and I am about to be late. 20 minutes later. Finally got to work, it's 9am. At least I am not late. The work place is a bit more crowded and chatty than normal but whatever maybe some drama happened again or people saw the stupid news report.

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Phewh, filed some reports and projects of, can have a quick donut break. My collegue Severino has been talking about the news report. At least it wasn't boring i guess.

​

What happened, suddenly people started to scream, I quickly look at what and ... huh ... The reporting is still being done but the snake head is gone. Well thats weird.

Oh no, what in the absolute hell is going on, how is it possible, a giant snake destroying a whole capital, so easily. I am not sure what to think. I hear someone weeping and crying repeating the words "Apep is here, we are all dead". ... Holy shit, since when did he come back, I thought father slayed him millinums ago.

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katpoker666 t1_j7v7hzh wrote

Reply to comment by Hairiest_Tubman in [TT] Theme Thursday - Earnest by AliciaWrites

Wow—such an intense, emotional piece with a lot of beautiful descriptions, Tubman. Eg: >> The doctor handed her over to me wrapped tightly in the pink-and-blue striped hospital blanket, her skin yellowed from jaundice.

It’s also incredible as a true story and feels very real. I hope everything is ok there as it sounds like an intense experience

The one crit I’d have and I struggle to crit this is that it’s more telling / observing than showing in spots. And feels a bit more passive than active. Like here I think you could just rephrase a few things to bring such an incredible story even more to life: >> In the delivery room Gemma had been crying the whole time, but stopped immediately as soon as the doctor gave her to me and I started talking to her. My wife was asleep, exhausted, but everyone in the room witnessed this, the obstetrician, two nurses, my-mother-in law. She remembered my voice. She knew she was safe.

And this was gorgeous: >> We are all written into the Grand Novel with just a few blank pages. Though few, our pages are important. They can’t be penned by Shakespeare or vicariously lived through your favorite streamer. Only you can write them.

Very well done!

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katpoker666 t1_j7v7eat wrote

Reply to comment by wordsonthewind in [TT] Theme Thursday - Earnest by AliciaWrites

What a charming story, words! I love how the lesson is brought out so subtly and yet well remembered.

You have so many gorgeous and descriptive details in here. Like: >> The words simmered at the tip of my tongue, a million little stories and excuses waiting to be unleashed.

The one small thing I’d say is the quote didn’t fully link back for me. Maybe in the little lies details and stuff, but not the happiness quote. That said, it was tough to shoehorn in!

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Starwhisker t1_j7v760c wrote

Reply to [WP] The first night of your 18th birthday, you wake up in the bed of someone attracted to you. It’s a well known phenomena, and the world has adjusted to it. You, however, have woken in a dark void. by P-o-t-a-t-o-o

Around you is pure black. You feel watched by a thousand eyes, somehow. Maybe that is what happens when the world has nowhere to send you, no person that cherishes you enough to set this strange phenomena in motion. You don't know what will happen next. Maybe you will die? It would be for the best, if you're this hopeless at only 18 years old.

You resign yourself to your obvious fate. Burying the hope you'd dared to feel the day prior. Harshly reprimanding it for its audacity to exist, when you should've known you were not worth anything. Especially the love of another.

You imagine what it will be like when you're old. With wrinkles and other signs of age making you even less attractive than you find yourself today. Not that you have much hope for your looks right now, either.

You imagine this for a while, but grow bored of it. The silence is deafening, in a strange way. You can't deny that you're a little concerned about when, where - no, if - you will wake up again.

The silence hums your name, but you can't hear it.

The darkness is warm, but you can't feel it.

The everything around you cradles you, in an attempt to grant you solace from your thoughts. But to you, it's all just empty nothingness. There is nothing here for you.

A sigh, and everything ends. You open your eyes to the same room you fell asleep in. The pitiful-looking, little calendar on your pale yellow wall tells you that it is indeed your birthday.

You didn't wake up with somebody else, unlike everyone you've ever met, known, heard of. You feel shame for something you felt powerless about. Perhaps it means something is wrong with you. You feel too empty to think about it.

A morning routine that could've matched anyone else's begins. Get dressed, brush your teeth. Forget to eat breakfast. Lament how pointless it is to go wherever you need to be going today. Leave the house anyway.

Nobody lives with you. Of course not. The only person remotely close to you is an old lady living next door. You've never been too good with people, but she's comforting in her slow pace and how she doesn't care much for anything outside her home.

Maybe you'll visit her today. As you've now learned, it's not like anyone is waiting for you.

She sits at the old table on the porch, waving at you from afar. She sees unusually well for an old lady. You wave back.

You exchange pleasantries. She invites you to sit down on the empty chair next to her, and you accept. You've never seen anyone with her, either, now that you think about it.

"What's with the long face, young one?" she asks. You don't really want to answer, but you do it anyway. Beginning with how it is your birthday, how you were supposed to wake up next to somebody today. Then you fall into a ramble, on how you were only met with that black nothingness. How you don't know why you expected any more. That you're disappointed anyway. By the end of it, you're crying on some old lady's porch.

The old lady hasn't interrupted you. She's a listener, not a talker, most of the time. Sometimes she will intently listen for hours, and then say nothing at all on the matter. She might offer you cookies, though. The cookies are good.

This time, the old lady gives you an answer.

"This phenomenon you speak of," she says, humming contently as she pours herself some tea.

"it was not around when I was your age. It did not stop anybody from finding our loved ones then. It will not stop you now."

She smiled, almost grinned. It was hard to tell - most of her teeth were missing.

"But I think you did find what's attracted to you. What loves you."

You only respond with a dry laugh. You don't know what else to say. She's sounding a little ridiculous. Nothing loves you.

For a while, neither of you say anything. She hums along to some tune of years gone by. Sips her tea. Then she briefly disappears into her home.

You wonder if you should leave. If you've overstayed your welcome. Maybe you have.

You get up, but just as you do, she returns. In her hands, she has a rectangular, flat box, a stack of papers, and a glass of water.

She sits down again, and you awkwardly sit down as well.

"You know, I used to be a little bit of a painter!" she exclaims. Giddy, almost. You don't know where this is going.

"Say, do you know how to mix black?"

You can't tell if it's a genuine question. You try to recall art classes from school, but it's all a blur.

"Well, most people just use black paint. I do, sometimes! But you can mix black. It's from all the colours here, you see. Red, blue, yellow. You can mix everything from combinations of those three, and if you use the same amount of all, you can have black, too."

She opens the box. It contains paints, as you've by now guessed, and an old paintbrush. She wets it with the glass of water, then hands it to you.

"Take some of this yellow, dear."

You comply, though you're not sure why you do.

"Good, put it on the paper. Any way you like."

You draw a circle. It's a little small.

"Now, take some of this blue. Paint it over the yellow."

You give the circle some blue. It's quite green now.

"And finally, this magenta... add it as well."

You do. The circle's colour has muddied now. It's not quite black; probably because you've used different amounts of the colours. You feel bad for making her black so ugly.

"There you are. As you can see, it is black now. I think black is quite the misunderstood colour."

She hums again.

"We love all colours, but say black is too dark. That it isn't creative. I disagree! Black is all colours. A strong black just means you have a good balance of everything important."

She nods to herself, content. You don't know what she means with any of this.

"You say all you saw was black, isn't that right? That must mean," she gets up now, and you worry she might stumble from how fast she's doing it. "that there was a lot of everything important. You can't be in many places at once when you wake up, so it just let you stay home."

You look at her in disbelief. You must look quite pathetic, not understanding what she's trying to get at. What was 'it' supposed to be?

"Everything was there, young one. Everything. The world itself was there. The world is no one person you can wake up next to. But it can let you wake up next to somebody that deserves your love. And it let you wake up with yourself."

She giggles again. So giddy, for an old lady. It's a little contagious, maybe. You get up, and she hugs you. She's never hugged you before, but it doesn't feel so bad. There's a smell of paint on her, of old wood, and warm cookies. A little bit of everything. You think it's good.

"The world loves you. Very much so, my dear."

She smiles her toothless smile. It's a nice smile, you think.

Then she lets go of you, patting your shoulder firmly. Pushing you, gently, away from the porch and into the morning sun.

"Now then. Go out there and love it back, won't you?"

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Nimss t1_j7uvvd1 wrote

Reply to [WP] According to astronomy, wishes take thousands or even millions of years to arrive to the wishing stars. Today, wishes from people long past are starting to come true. by WorsCartoonist

There was a sudden flash of light. Suddenly there was something. I slowly grew a consience, a sense of self during a time that could have been weeks or months, or just a few seconds. Time.

  • Wait, what the hell is time? In an extremely intense moment of growing panic I became aware of time moving forth, my own body and that the light wasn't just a light, but rather an image, containing other beings outside of my own body. I felt dirt under my nails and smelled the air, still fresh after last night's rain. I immediately knew that rain was something beautiful. Rain meant food. Water meant life.

I realized I must be alive again. Where was the beast that had slain me? I definitely died that night, and I vaugely remember seeing a star fall on the sky and wishing I could see another one before I died. I always liked the stars.

I heard a raised voice. It was a man. I looked down at my feet, wiggled my toes and then looked in the direction of the sound, smiling. He was not alone. There was a whole crowd of humans, very tall and very white. They did seem angry, but I never found out why. They had very odd clothing, and things on their head. It did not seem that their clothes would be very good to move around in. I also wondered which kind of animal they were made from, they must have been mighty beasts when they were alive.

  • Hello! I said, in the only language I knew. The crowd gasped in unison and took a step back. The man took a step forward and yelled even louder at me, though I did not understand him. I told him as much, which only resulted in more yelling. I looked over to the right of the yelling man, and in the distance I saw water shooting up from some kind of stone. It was incredible sight, so I immediately got up and ran towards it, noting the terrifying mountains with faces around me and the very long, flat stones on the ground on which a large flock of very odd animals, carrying humans around inside them, were going up and down, undecided on where to go. I quickly understood that they too must be looking for the magical water-stone. All living things drink water. So I went into their path and tried to make them turn towards the stone. They panicked and tried to avoid me, so I had to chase after them along the flat stones.

Suddenly I heard a woman yell, it was a beautiful sound among the screaming, fleeing animals, and I stopped in my tracks and looked behind me. That's when it all went black again.

Luckily, I quickly woke up this time. Down on me looked the most beautiful living thing I had ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon. She had a hair like a fire during a cold night, and her eyes were piercing me like no spear had ever done. She had no hair in her face, her skin was smooth and pale. She said something, and it was just as heavenly as I had imagined. Her voice was soft and kind, and it ran like honey down my ears. She held out her hand, and I put my hand in hers. I let her drag me up on my feet and realized that there was again a large crowd around us, but they were quiet now. Everything was quiet. The woman turned away from me and ran. The animals had stopped running around, and for the first time I noticed it was evening. I wished I could see her again. I looked up into the sky and saw a star fall.

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CCC_037 t1_j7unnyx wrote

Reply to [WP] The first night of your 18th birthday, you wake up in the bed of someone attracted to you. It’s a well known phenomena, and the world has adjusted to it. You, however, have woken in a dark void. by P-o-t-a-t-o-o

Darkness. Utter and complete.

Eternal. Untouchable.

I reach out to touch it anyhow. I feel... wood? Wood! There's wood! I can't see it in the dark, but it's not a void, it's just a dark box!

I shove on the wood above me, and it moves aside.

Light! Light... but no-one else around.

"Hello?" I call out as I look around. Stone walls. Flickering candles provide the only light. I look down - pillow. Blankets. A sleeping space.

A comfortable sleeping space in a coffin.

I look around. "Hello?" No response, but the softest of distant fluttering. Does this place have bats?

I'd specifically worn my best pyjamas for this. It's my bad luck that the bed was unoccupied just then, I guess. I get out of the coffin and turn around slowly. It looks like a room in the old Castle, but that place has been boarded up for years, ever since it was rumoured to be the home of...

...of a vampire.

The room is empty. I know the room is empty. Right up until I feel warm breath on the back of my neck and her voice says "Oh dear, you've seen more than you should have, haven't you, cutie pie?"

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