*****
The end is so close, I can taste it. Have you gotten better as the month progressed?
I’m not sure my technique has gotten better—in fact, I’d probably argue that it’s gotten sloppier--but my imagination can flare from spark to inferno in seconds now. And that’s something I’m very happy to take away from this.
Now down to business. Here’s today’s prompt from Robert Lee Brewer at Poetic Asides:
For today's prompt, I want you to write a poem (six) of longing. You or someone (or something) else should be pining for someone or something. Maybe a cat is longing to get outside the house. Maybe a teenager is longing to get away from his or her small town. And, of course, there's always the longing poem (six) of love.
If longing doesn't appeal to you, here’s today’s prompt from The Writer’s Book of Matches (Writer's Digest Books):
I do not hate you.
This prompt was another originally offered as a line of dialogue, but I want you to use it however you wish.
Good writing so far. I expect more to come. See you in the comments later.
Bearing Witness--The Wall
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Today they started building The Wall. When I woke this morning and went
down to the kitchen, Mum and Dad weren’t there. I followed the low murmur
of the ...
7 years ago
6 comments:
Please believe me when I say that my characters do not represent me. Stuff like this probably comes from reading too much of King and Koontz and Gerritsen.
Forever
No matter what anyone else says, I want you to know that I do not hate you. In fact, truth be told, words are not adequate to express the depth of my need for you. The feel of your body, the softness of your cheek under my touch, even the smell of your skin, they all bring me a sense of calm that nothing in this life ever could. Not the prayers of the Holy Father, not the love of my mother, not even the absence of my father who finally walked out and left the family behind, which did bring some comfort, since his departure brought an end to the unanswered cries each night he paid me a visit.
Tomorrow, they will find you, or rather what’s left of you, and then the rumors will start—why this would happen to someone so innocent, and who could be so evil as to do it—but you and I will know the truth: you are not innocent, and I am not evil. We are simply two lost souls who found each other and by sharing this moment have created a bond that will last into eternity.
That's some story, Stephen. I took a similar tack, but mine isn't quite as creepily good as yours.
The Last Supper
I do not hate you; I could never hate you. It’s just that I think I’ll be better off without you. I know you think this is drastic, but I can’t risk coming back, and I can’t walk away if I know you’re here waiting.
So please, just eat this and don’t worry that it tastes funny. Just a few bites, please, and this will all be over. Then I’ll be free and you will be, too.
Free to do what, I don’t exactly know; but I know there’s a whole big world out there, big and rich with all kinds of maybes, and it’s just not big enough to have both you and me in it.
Your story was delicious. ;)
oh, you guys are giving me the chill bumps with the creep factor. Brrrr...good stuff. You have inspired me. As with Stephen, don't ask where this stuff comes from:
I don't hate you, daddy. Your lips against mine; your hand on my chest. I heard you saying "please, I love you," and I tried, honest I tried, but I just couldn't. But your lips seal against mine again and you're pressing my chest and I hear the pain in your voice.
"Breathe, baby, breath."
So I'll try to come back just for you, one more time, because I really don't hate you.
Wow, John. That one sent a chill through me. Good stuff.
John, you snuck up on me with that one and broke my heart. Well done, friend.
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