Thursday, April 26, 2012

Sherlock... again

I haven't posted in a couple days and this is because I was working on a music video idea. Here it is!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmTZF9C1-qU&feature=youtu.be

Never really made anything like that before so I was super proud just to have finished it in the first place.
And because this is a writing blog, I think I might have found another piece to the Reichenbach puzzle. Moffat keeps saying that people are missing a clue. Well, while editing my video (admittedly frame-by-frame) I noticed something strange about Sherlock's ear. The picture's not the best but if you look close, it appears to be some sort of pull away skin suggesting that this is either a masked cadaver or perhaps a dummy alltogether. Or.... maybe I'm just reading into clever misleads that the genius Moffat planted. Either way, what's your theory on how Sherlock survived?


Look at his ear!

Sunday, April 22, 2012

4/22 - How Sherlock Surived the Reichenbach Fall (with Doctor Who)

I know I did one of these a long time ago but I love these two storylines too darn much to leave them alone! And so, how Sherlock survived his fall.

----
The Doctor scowled as he tossed a towel over to the dark-haired man. "First River, now you! I'm not going to be catch all of you every time you decide to jump off a building."
"Have you prepared the Teselecta?" Sherlock asked as he pulled himeslf out of the library swimming pool.
"They want to scan you again to make sure they've got the angles of your face right."
"And you're sure no one watching will be able to tell?"
"If they so much as blink, they'll miss it." He smiled as though enjoying a private joke and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
Tossing his soaked coat aside, the consulting detective approached the near copy of himself. "Captain Carter," he looked the robot in the eye where he assumed the man sat, "Once you're inside, a woman named Molly Hooper pull you aside. She knows what's going on. Are you ready?"
Inside the Teselecta, Carter nodded. "We've got some blood pre-loaded into the right side of the skull to burst open on impact. Your Miss Hooper will need to make sure it matches your records."
The Doctor stepped in between the two Sherlocks waving his hand impatiently, "Yes, yes, let's get this over with. You," he pointed to the Sherlock on his right, "Strap yourself in!" Rubbing his hands together in a maniacal manner, the Doctor rushed to the main console as the Teselecta-Sherlock positioned itself in front of the TARDIS doors.
"Come on, Sexy!" He yelled as the TARDIS turned itself over in mid-air till the doors pointed down. "I'm about to turn off the gravity."
The Teselecta braced itself against the doorframe and Sherlock buckled into one of the seats. "Do it!"
The Doctor flipped a set of switches and the lights inside the TARDIS burned red. The doors slid open of their own accord and the Teselecta dangled out above the street.
"I'll be seeing you, Doctor" Captain Carter said before the crew of the justice vehicle plummeted to the sidewalk below.
Sherlock felt a strange curiosity as he saw his own head smash against the pavement. The drop was too short to cause any real damage to the machine but as he watched he could see the robot's head shifting to mimic the injury. Her stomach twisted as he saw John stagger over. "Shut the doors." He turned away.
The Doctor gave the dark-haired man a sympathetic smile before transporting to the rooftop above. "Are you alright?"
"Fine." With the gravity restored, Sherlock freed himself from the restraints.
"When will you tell him?"
"When I'm sure it's safe." Sherlock said, face straight and stubbornly free of emotion "You're one to talk. You didn't tell your friends you were alive either."
The Doctor shrugged in his tweed. His favorite defensive gesture. "I knew River would do it for me." The Time Lord frowned when Sherlock reclaimed the phone he'd tossed aside earlier.
"Didn't want to get it wet." Sherlock explained as he walked over to Moriarty's body. He looked back at the Doctor and saw him frown, "Oh, perhaps I should mention, I'm not the one who shot him."
"Didn't say you were." The Doctor joined his side, "What are you going to do?"
"My coffin will need a body and I can't let his friends know he's dead yet." Sherlock ruffled through the consulting criminal's clothes until he found the man's phone. "I have to make sure that no one will ever threaten John or the others again."

------

Yep, Imma leave it there :)

Saturday, April 21, 2012

4/21 Twilight crossed with the Hunger Games?

I've seen a meme recently that said, "What if we took all the characters from Twilight and put them in the Hunger Games?" Well.... THAT SOUNDS LIKE AN AWESOME IDEA TO ME! :D
Since this is one of my mini writing excersizes, I won't do a full cast swap. Just seeing how long Bella would last..... >:3



Bella pressed her sweating palms up against the thick glass. Edward would come. Alice would've seen what these people were about to put her through. She'd tell Edward and he would save her. He always saved her.

Bella jumped when the platform began to rise. A sprawling grass field stretched out with the cornucopia sitting squarely in the middle of it all, a temptation for early departure. Bella shivered as she looked around at the other twenty three tributes. Several of them were looking her way. She wrapped her arms around herself in shivered. Somewhere above it all, a deep voice started to count down.

Ten... Nine...

"Edward!"

The others snickered. Bella sunk down so that she sat in place. Knees tucked up underneath her chin, she wrapped her arms around her legs. He'd find her. No matter how hard the Capitol tried to keep them apart, he'd find a way to get to her.

Eight... Seven...

"Bella."

Her head whipped around at the sound of her name. Just out of arm's reach, Edward stood in the middle of the field. Bella's smile faded when she saw straight through him to the trees beyond. Another one of those pesky visions.

Six... Five...

"Bella, get to your feet."

She obeyed.

"When the countdown finishes, run as fast as you can towards the trees."

Four... Three...

 "I'm scared, Edward." Bella said. She shuffled to the edge of the platform. Leaning over to get closer, her right foot slipped out from under her and she tumbled forward.

Claudius shook his head when the cannon sounded. "I don't think we've had a Tribute get off early since the sixty-eighth Hunger Games."

"Can't say I'm surprised." Caesar said, "You could tell the pressure was getting to her and she had the lowest ranking out of all the Tributes."


(I tried my best to write Bella seriously but I don't think it worked out....
It wasn't as good as I hoped but oh well XD)

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Quarantine Chapter 1

Remember how I said I wasn't going to post sections of my story on here? HAHAHAHA!!! Let's be honest, no one's really reading this anyways. And I've been working on this all day and don't really want to do a little prompt. WoohoOoOOoOOOoo! I've submitted the Prologue already so if you didn't check it out yet, DO IT! It is super intense and awesome!



Chapter 1



            The loud screech of the morning alarm barely made Nira stir. Grumbling, she flipped over on her thin mattress, stuffing the off-white pillow into her ears to try and block out the noise. It didn’t work.

“Are you going to sleep all day?”

Nira’s head lulled up from the safety of her dreams to look at the small screen beside the door. Green eyes set in a grey disapproving face stared back at her. His middle aged scowl always accompanied the wakeup call these days.

“Good morning to you too, Avin.” Nira rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes, “Did you sleep well?”

He ignored the question. “Ever since you got close to that boy, you’ve let yourself slip in your work. If you’re not careful, you’re going to end up getting caught.”

Nira nodded as though she were hanging on every syllable, but in reality his words became nothing more than a jumble of sound as he prattled on about the consequences of mixing classes. She walked over to the chipped mirror beside the monitor. The smudges on her cheeks remained defiant, surviving a harsh hand scrubbing.   

            “Yes, Avin.” She pulled her brown hair back into a tight ponytail, “Anything you say.”

            An unappreciative grunt was the only response to her sarcasm.

Nira chuckled, walking over to the screen. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring you your breakfast right away. Same as usual, right?” Without waiting for a response, she switched the monitor off. Aching muscles stretched as she pulled out her black jumpsuit. Soft lavender bruises just beginning to turn yellow dotted her arms and legs. Pacing around the cramped living quarters in tight circles to get her blood flowing, she flipped several yellow switches above the pull-out toilet.

A crackling sound fizzed through the room before a young man’s voice bled through, “Good morning, citizen. This is day—” the voice turned mechanically female “—Three eight seven nine two—” the man’s voice returned “—of Quarantine. Sectors one and two are having difficulties with their water recycling so all the Dispo water rations will be cut in half until their stations can be returned to working capacity.”

Nira felt her stomach curl in on itself as though it were taking a preemptive strike against starvation. She went to switch off the depressing broadcast but Doctor Parson hadn’t quite finished.

“I am dismayed to announce that an Asset in sector four—” Nira glanced to the faded black four over her own doorframe “—has misplaced his key. I would advise anyone who has seen it to quickly inform the nearest Guard. I cannot fully express my dismay over this unfortunate loss. The keys have always stood as a symbol for what can be grown out of nothing but hard work. Until tomorrow, may God have mercy on our souls.” 

The transmission fizzled out to a monotonous drone and Nira switched it off before it could gnaw into her allotted patience for the day. Parson’s message was thinly veiled. An Asset losing a key was like her misplacing her own arms after work. The white-dressed uppities guarded those keys with their pride. Whoever was stupid enough to steal it wouldn’t be able to hide for long.

Nira rubbed the back of her neck as she checked through her messages. She ignored the text about the water rationing, going straight for the private messages: two from her advisor, Carolynn, one from Mac, which she promptly deleted, and one from Derek, the only decent Asset in the entire compound. She smiled at Derek’s name, opening the video file.

Derek’s young, pale pixilated face grinned at her wide enough to make the skin around his blue eyes crinkle. “Sorry I’ve been away so long. I—” Something clanked in the background and his head spun around. His body grew tense as he turned back to the screen. He tugged at his white collar. “I didn’t mean to be. I have something for you.” His smile returned but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve reserved a spot for you in the hall outside the plant fields. I’ll meet you there later today.”

            He reached towards the screen and the image switched off. She checked the data again and saw that the message recorded only a few moments before. She’d barely missed him. Tugging her black jumpsuit into a more comfortable layout on her body, she stuck her left hand into a slot beside the door. A lever clamped it down into place and she could hear the faint buzzing of a scanner.

“Disposable number two six eight eight nine three,” said the same mechanical female voice from the announcement, “your work time quota has been raised from fourteen to sixteen hours. Have a healthy day.”

The machine inside unclamped her hand. The faded brown door gave a soft hiss before swinging wide enough for her to squeeze through. Nira joined the shuffling of the other black-clad Dispos as they trudged through cement corridors towards the serving hall. Their barely concealed scowls and tears, and their drooping shoulders said they’d all had their shifts increased, or maybe it was the lowering of the water rations. She licked her lips at the thought.

“Nira!” A young man shouted somewhere behind her. Mac.

Her insides twisted and she tried to slip through the mass of bodies before the owner of the voice could catch up with her. Why couldn’t he just ever leave her alone?

“Nira, wait for me.”

She was almost to the entrance of the serving hall when a hand clamped around her upper arm. She tried to shrivel away from the touch but the panting teen kept her in place.

“Didn’t you hear me calling for you?” he asked. His flaming red hair and bright blue eyes made him look deceptively innocent. If it wasn’t for the intense body order that accompanied him, he would’ve been quite nice to look at. “You know that I always wait for you in the mornings.”

“I’m busy, Mac.” Nira said, “What do you want?”

His freckled smile drooped but she refused to acknowledge the twinge of guilt. She’d learned not to show weakness in front of him. His grip tightened on her shoulder. She couldn’t hold back the wince when she felt his fingertips digging into her arm.  

“Sorry,” Mac said, letting her go. His smile returned, “See you again soon.”

Nira shuddered, glancing through the mass of grey and black bodies against the dull brown walls. Though the white Assets rarely mingled with the Guards and Dispos, Derek’s message replayed in the back of her mind. He’d looked, almost, scared. With a sigh, she pushed her way through the clamoring crowd up to the counter. She set her left hand in another scanner. Even with the vents that kept the air circulating, the amount of bodies in the tiny space made her start to sweat.

The female dressed in black behind the counter didn’t even look in Nira’s direction. She was tall and blonde, perhaps nineteen. Nira’s nose curled when the older woman pulled out a plate of odd, lumpy green-beige sludge. It looked like all the scraps over the past week had become sentient and formed together to do battle with her stomach lining.

“The water?”

The blonde set down a small canteen that sloshed when it moved.

“Where’s the rest?”

“That’s it. Take it and go.”

The machine let go of Nira’s hand but she kept it in place, refusing to leave. With her free hand, she reached over the counter, grabbing the other woman. Though Nira was shorter, she leverage her weight to pull the blonde over. “What about the food for my Monitor?”

“What?” Blondie blinked.

“Monitor Avin. I’ve been assigned to him for three years now.” Nira’s voice began to turn into a snarl and shoved the older Dispo back, “Or did you not check your scan properly?”

The machine re-clamped her hand and Nira watched the Dispo’s eyes scanning through a screen on the other side of the wall. “I-I didn’t notice.” She cleared her throat, disappearing for a moment before coming back out with a tray. In place of the bubbling goop that Nira received, genuine bread, freshly picked vegetables, and a slim strip of meat sat there in the open. The other Dispo let it sit in front of Nira for a moment, mouthwatering smells wafting up.

 “Guess you better hurry,” blondie said, almost slamming a tray on top of the food, cutting off the pleasant scent. “Go on then.”

Nira scowled at the woman’s triumphant look. Shoveling down her own greased up goop and rationed water, she took the tray before her will could break to not eat it herself. Nira could feel several sets of eyes following the plate in her hands as she walked to the door. She weaved in between the Guards, knowing that no one would dare to steal the food while being watched. It wasn’t worth the punishment.

By now, most of the Dispos were already at work. She passed a few in the halls, scrubbing away until the metal floors were spotless. She knew it was futile. They all knew in a few hours, the floors would be washed again, and again. But she kept on walking up grated stairs, through enclosed hallways. The whole system stretched out like a maze until she came to the main elevators. Again, her left hand was clamped in place as the chip inside was scanned. The red light overhead flashed green and the steel door slid open in silence. The moment she stepped back in, the doors closed in on her, sealing her in. Off to the right, she pushed the button labeled B23.

Alone at last. Nira lifted the tray and inhaled. Her stomach gurgled in savory anticipation. She could nearly taste the food on the tip of her tongue if she tried hard enough. She let the smell fill her, eyes rolling pleasantly into the back of her head. She knew better than to be jealous about the food, however good it looked. The price Avid paid for it simply wasn’t worth it.

Too soon, the doors opened. More Dispos scrubbed the floors and walls as she passed through another set of halls. Greying door after door passed by, small numbers carved into the door frames. Her pace slowed as she glanced between the digits. Even after serving Avin for four years, she could still get lost if she didn’t pay enough attention.

217682. Nira’s hand came up to knock the door but it swung open before she could even touch the metal.

“I hate it when you do that.”

Avin chuckled, clearing the doorway for her to walk inside. “It’s the only fun that I get to have.”

“You must’ve done something right.” Nira said, setting the tray down beside his keyboard. “They even included some meat with your meal.”

He scoffed as he sat down in front of his wall of screens. White, grey and black dots drifted around dark blue schematic lines. A number floated alongside each dot. In the lower right corner, around a dozen red dots glowed together. Avin had never told her what they were for.

“Would you like to win it from me?”

“Win it?” Nira’s stomach grumbled when she looked pale pink sitting on the tray so innocently.

Avin chuckled. “I’ll make you a deal. You get half if you answer something for it.”

“That’s it?” Her suspicions rose. Avin had a generous nature often shared his water rations but meat was precious.  

“That’s it,” he said. “No tricks, I promise. But you have to answer it honestly.” He took the strip of meat, bacon, she guessed, and dangled it in front of her. “Limited time offer.”

Her stomach growled. “I’m listening.”

Avin set the meat back down. The humor drained from his eyes. “This morning, the announcement about the key: did you have anything to do with it?”

“No.”

His stern look made her continue.

“I’m not idiotic enough to get myself mixed up in something like that. I know how ridiculous the Assets get over their little toys.” She opened her right hand, staring down at the faded scar that slashed across the palm. She’d once cut herself on a piece of metal ‘artwork’ at an Asset’s home. For getting blood on it, food privileges were reduced for a whole week. She was ten.  

“You’re right,” Avin said. “I’m sorry.” Silence passed between them. Avin stood, putting his hands on her shoulders. Unlike Mac, his hold on her was gentle and welcome. “I just don’t want to see you get on the wrong side of things.” He ruffled her hair in an affectionate gesture, messing up her ponytail.

Nira laughed and shooed him off. “Either way, it’s not like I could do anything with it. I’ve never even seen a lock for those keys to fit into and no one would be willing to pay for something so useless.”

Seeming satisfied, Avin tore the strip of meat in half, giving her the bigger portion. She ripped off a corner, popping it into her mouth. She let it sit there, the rich flavor spreading across her tongue. She only swallowed once all the flavored was sucked out.

“Save the rest for later,” Avin said when she went to take another piece. He returned to his seat in front of a wall of blue monitors. The dots continued to move like blood flowing through a body. Nira took her empty water canteen, tucking the bacon inside.

“Is there anything you need before lunch?” Nira asked. She stood waiting there for an answer but Avin was already glued to the monitors, eyes darting about. She shrugged it off as she walked back to the door.

“Nira, one more thing.”

She turned back to face him.

“About Derek,” Avin started but she cut him off.

“No more lectures about it, please. He and I—we—there’s nothing going on so you can stop worrying about it. Okay?”

“If there’s nothing going on then why are you with him so often?” He tapped a white dot inching its way across one of the screens. “You should give Mac another chance. He’s healthier for you.”

“If following me everything and being I’ll-kill-you-in-your-sleep creepy is healthy, sure.” She rubbed her arm. It still ached from Mac’s crippling grip.

“He’s just shy.” Avin said, “He doesn’t know how to act around such a pretty girl.”

Nira smiled despite herself. “Flattery won’t get you what you want.”

“It was worth a try.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “You should start your shift soon. You’ll be lucky to get anything half decent this late.”

“I have a spot saved for me.” Nira opened the door, stepping out into the hall. Avin asked who but the metal door slid shut before she could answer.



(You're not the prettiest but I like you just the way you. You don't have to be prettiest to be loved just the way you are. Some people tell you you have to be shiny and new. But I will tell you, you just-- you just have to be you. [Oh!] You're not the prettiest but I like you just the way you. You don't have to be prettiest to be loved just the way you are. Don't you worry about the people who don't understand. You will be happy when you find the right pair of hands. [Oh!] You're not the prettiest but I like you just the way you. You don't have to be prettiest to be loved just the way you are. Just like my guitar) <-- A song I found on YouTube by NicePeter. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjF4aMv_6eY&list=FLRX6ton0ZLoS-2N9s3td__g&index=1&feature=plpp_video You should really check it out because it's beautiful and makes me smile :)
To anyone reading, I love you and have a happy healthy day.

Quaratine prologue draft 2

            Black clothes itch my pock-marked skin as two marines dressed in grey stack me on top of the piled cart. The man beneath me feels cold. No heartbeat. Masked doctors all in white flock about the sterile room, peering onto one another’s clipboards. None of them ever look in my direction. Another limp body is placed on top. My lungs compress under the weight and they gasp. The person above me is boiling. Sweat bleeds through the black fabric. I try to call for help but my lips won’t move to form the words. I want to scream. They have to know I’m not dead. This is all a terrible mistake. A sharp clack sounds somewhere above my head and I pray it’s an order to stop. Doctor Parson’s aged voice is slow, his words deliberate. 

New York, London and Tokyo are repeating near zero populations.

A buzz-cut man with combat boots and military grey looms over me. Most of his face is covered by the same mask the doctors wear. His eyes hold something close to pity and when his gloved hands reach out to me, the light from above gives him a halo.

So far, we have been able to keep ahead of the virus with a marginal number of casualties.

He traces the scar along my left hand before removing the wedding band from my finger. Brushing the hair from my face, he checks my ears before moving on to the bodies below me. Muttered words from the doctors and he retreats to the muted browns of the side wall.

Every precaution is being taken. Everything that can be done is being done.

I struggle as the white ones wheel me over to a latched metal door. Only my shoulders obey. One of the doctors opens the gate and the added heat radiating from the chamber makes my head spin. Help. Please. For pity’s sake, someone help me.

To ensure the best chance of survival, we are placing ourselves under quarantine

The military man returns with a wide broom. He disappears into the chamber for a moment. Mounds of bone fragments and small bits of metal come sweeping out in front of him. I try to scream as the cart wheels towards the oven. The cart jerks forward and we all go toppling in. The weight of them all crushes me.

Let the record state that November 16th, 2018 is quarantine day one.

Moans echo throughout the chamber. How many of us are still alive? A fine layer of the sandpaper ash clogs my throat but my lungs are too weak to cough. Muffled tears on my back. A small hand fists up my shirt. The door swings shut. A soft metallic click is all it takes to plunge us into dark silence. Into hell. We are meant to be here.

            Incineration in three… two… one…

May God have mercy on our souls.


(So proud of this! Wooo! I'm putting this up because it all started with a prompt from my teacher. She told us to try and write in-scene details with a lot of emotion in only two pages. Voila!)

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

4/18 - Sherlock rambling

Sherlock timez! I just adore the BBC Sherlock series and because I want to write something every day, today I'm going to to just write a bit of fan-fic! wooo! Again, start out with ten minutes on the clock, go!


Sherlock watched John walk away from his tombstone. He stepped forward, lips parting to call out to his friend.
"Not yet." A hand wrapped around his arm and he looked back at Molly Hooper. He'd asked for her help to keep him focused. It was a good thing too, he'd never imagined it would be so hard to keep himself hidden away from John and Mrs. Hudson.
"I saw what you posted on your blog," Sherlock said, "thank you. It couldn't have been easy to write that."
She smiled. "I just imagined I was writing about Jim."
"Moriarty."
"R-right." She let go of his arm and took a step back. "We should go."
Sherlock nodded, flipping the collar of his coat up against the chill breeze. He turned and walked away from Molly, mind already working on the problem at hand. His friends wouldn't be safe until the assassins were tracked down a dealt with. Pulling out his new cell phone, he called up an old friend. "Irene, it's time for you to repay your debts."


Yeah... that wasn't very good XD

For Molly Hooper's blog, check it out:
http://www.mollyhooper.co.uk/
A lot of the characters have comments and blogs of their own and I found it quite fun to read through everything :)

Brandon Sanderson

This last semester, I had the extremely good fortune of being able to take Brandon Sanderson's class at my college. During our classtimes, everything was filmed and put on-line. So far, only three of thirteen (maybe only twelve?) of the lectures have been posted but I know that the guy who filmed them is intending to put them all up. They are DEFINITELY worth listening to! Not only is Sanderson brilliant at writing but he also talked about the business side of writing that people rarely delve into.
Another note to any other aspiring authors, Sanderson is also involved in a Podcast called "Writing Excuses" with several other best-selling authors. Check it out! Not only is it really helpful but it's absolutely hilarious to listen to.

Lectures:
http://www.writeaboutdragons.com/home/brandon_w2012/

Writing Excuses:
http://www.writingexcuses.com/


Have an amazing day! :D

4/17 prompt

Found a prompt yesterday that I liked:
Jane Austen's novel, Pride and Prejudice, opens with the line: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."
Start your story about something completely different with a sentence that follows the same format, filling in the blanks with your own ideals: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a _____ in possession of a _____, must be in want of a _____."



It is a truth universally ackowledged, that a pirate in possession of a ship, must be in want of an adventure. Ellana Smith was such a pirate. Following in the steps of her hero, Guybrush Threepwood, Ellana dared to sail off the coasts of the American colonies, preying off merchant ships that dared to cross her path.
At least, that's what she told herself in her dreams.
In truth, young Ellana was a personal maid aboard the Salander, the finest of Lord Fairfax's ships. Ellana's mistress, Lady Fairfax, had given her over to the ship's Captain during the voyage to ease the workload. Instead of the cutluss and pistol she craved, Ellana had a brush and a couldron with potato peelings cooked on the bottom. Trapped in the closet of a room, she stared out of the small port window to the greying skies beyond.
"You haven't finished yet?!"
Ella jumped as the ship's cook bustled in on her daydreams. The man's skin was taughtly stretched across his bulbous frame.
"No, sir." Ellana said, lowering her face. The sharp slap to her back was almost painless.


... and that's it XD
As for the prompt, what would you fill in the blanks with?



Other random ideas:

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a college student in possession of a college loan, must be in want of a job.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a blue dog in possession of a law degree, must be in want of a client.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a child in possession of a dream, must be in want of nothing.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that any average intelligence individual in possession of a televison, must be in want of something half decent to watch on Saturday nights.

Have fun!

Monday, April 16, 2012

Old picture prompt

In class a few weeks back, we were shown an old black and white photo from the 50's. In the picture, a woman in her 30's is lounging beside a pool. We were given ten minutes to come up with a short story. Tell me what you think ;D


She leaned forward in the metalic summer chair, ignoring the loud squeak of protest against her weight. One nylon leg crossed the other. Her eyes drifted out into the distant pre-dawn. Slender, manicured fingers were stilled curled around the warm nine millimeter pistol tucked inside her black day purse. Floating in the pool a mere arm's length away was a large man with chaircoal hair. Vacant grey eyes stared up at the woman with faded shock as blood radiated from his chest, dyeing the chlorinated blue. She straightened, finally removing her finger from the trigger to fix her curled hair. Her gaze never left the first glimpse of the rising sun.
"Well," she said as she glanced to the body, "I'm glad we were able to straighten that out."


Get a random picture from the internet, give yourself ten minutes on the clock and just go! You might be surprised at what you'll come up with. :) Till tomorrow~

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Writing Prompt

With the semester coming to a close, I'm going to attempt something a little bit different. Instead of posting chunks of my story while still in their horrid first drafts, I'm going to do some writing prompts instead. My goal is to do one every day but we'll see how that goes. :)
This first prompt is related my story "Quarantine". It's more of a dark, thriller dystopia but I wanted to write a (one page) scene that was light and innocent.



            Nira turned Derek’s gift over in her hands. The thin plastic crinkled under her fingers as she traced the faded images on the front. The red letters were too scratched up and worn for her to read but a strange alien creature wearing a wide-brimmed hat made her question the contents.  The two yellow blobs inside leaked white and her stomach clenched at the idea of ingesting such a thing. “Are you sure that this is supposed to be food?”

            “Try it,” Derek said, “you’ll like it.”

            She hesitated.

            “Go on.”

            Not one to waste food, even if it was at the high end on the questionable scale, Nira tugged at the plastic ends. The package opened with a soft pop and an overwhelming smell of sweetness coated the insides of her nose. It tickled down her throat and made her cough. She’d never seen Derek grin so wide before. Despite her better judgment, her mouth began to water and curiosity tempted her fingers into the little bag. The yellow log compressed between her fingers and more whiteness beaded up on the bottom. Its texture reminded her of the sponges she’s used only a few hours ago, only dry and squishy. Nira looked back up at him.

            Derek stood there, all patience and smiles.

            With a sigh, she bit down. The whiteness melted across her tongue and sent sparks up her spine. The spongey yellow turned to sweet mush before dissolving along with the cream.

            “Well?” asked Derek. He moved closer, looking anxious for her approval. 

            “It’s very strong.” Nira said as the tips of her fingers began to tingle, “Where did you get it?”

            “I took it from Parson’s private stash. He called it a ‘Twinkie’.”