PROMPT Writing Explorations: Week 92, Returns

Discussion in 'INSPIRING MUSES' started by The Mood is Write, May 14, 2018.

  1. My Writing Explorations series of exercises are a chance for users to explore new concepts and practice the art of raising two fingers to Writer's Block while screaming obscenities to fickle muses: to rebel against the idea that a person requires a mythical force inside them to make new and amazing things.

    No. Listen well, users: there is no being inside you waiting to be let out. You are the writer, and in this exercise, you are given a place to push not only against Writer's Block, but also against the forces of stagnation. Feel trapped in your genre? Explore a new one! Stuck with a singular archetype? Do something else! In this thread, you will not be critiqued unless you request it. Should you wish it, I will happily offer my thoughts on how it might be improved, but I will not comb looking for fixes: this isn't the place: this place is for safely trying new things and indulging a love of writing.

    Shake the bars of your cell block and roar, writers!

    How do I take part?You can write to one or more (or none) of the prompts, the theme in the thread title, the bonuses—hell, you can even cast aside all of what I offer if you get a different idea.

    The whole point is "get writing!"

    1. Write a homecoming that's bittersweet and loving.
    2. There's a fae aspect of some sort in the person returning.
    3. Someone has unusual eyes.

    Bonus Rounds:
    • Write in a random genre.
    • The one returning is injured badly or crippled in some way.
    • There's a sense of weariness and grime to the setting.
  2. I never wanted to walk this road again, and by the look of things, the road didn’t want me on it, either. The weather had turned sour as if to painfully indicate it’s opinion of my presence here; a heavy rain poured down in relentless sheets, with the growl of thunder rumbling often in the distance in place of an unamused murmur. I feel the same, I assure you, I thought dourly.

    With the forbearing persistence that is born only of necessity, I continued to force one foot in front of the other in weary progress down the lane, which had been transformed into oozing mud by the water mixing with the loosely packed dirt. Barren trees lined either side, casting deep shadows beneath their branches as the sun gradually began to sink out of view. Even the star that kept our days from darkness had no desire to welcome me, it would seem.

    The gates of my old home came into view around a bend in the lane, and I released a long suffering sigh. The towering greystone wall that surrounded the family estate looked the same as it had when I was a young boy too unfamiliar with the world to understand it’s true nature, the same as on the night I slipped away three hundred and four years ago - most likely the same as it had for a millenium.

    Fae magic was just as unchanging as the things it kept young, apparently.

    I was still a stone’s throw from the wall when the gate began to swing inward of its own accord. The heavy iron made a dreadful screeching as it moved - accompanied by the pitter-patter of the rain, it might have been the vocal wail in a mourning song. The closer to home I came, the more directly my surroundings seemed to express their displeasure at my arrival.

    I hesitated, wondering if these rudely apparent signs were the intentional work of my relatives. Could they see me coming? Should I take the warnings and run for my life? Even as I stood contemplating the idea, the ability to make that choice was ripped away from me. The gate had swung fully open, and I could now see across the lawn to the courtyard. A short figure was dashing pel-mel towards me. In a moment, a screeching mass of spindly limbs slammed into my chest and tangled around me in a crushing hug. I staggered back in an attempt to stay balanced, hesitant to return the warm gesture.

    A soft child’s voice whispered in my ear. “Why did you leave me?”

    Slowly, I hugged my little sister back. For the first time in years, my regrets had come to haunt me, and I almost choked on them as a single tear meandered down my cheek.

    “I’m home now.”
    • Nice execution! Nice execution! x 1
  3. I stood still as I stared through the glass pane of my window. Raindrops dribbled down the smooth surface on the opposite side, scattering the lights of the running cars that pass by.

    What am I staring at? Simple.

    A girl just across my yard. She stood still under the rain, her back faced at me as she held her crimson-colored umbrella, shielding her unusually white dress from getting wet.

    She seems to be waiting for a car or something. The girl kept looking at the incoming cars and I could almost catch a glimpse of her pale neck...

    The girl stopped looking at the cars and stood. Very. Still.

    This doesn't feel right.

    What's this dread I feel in the back of my neck? I brush my hand at my nape and I felt all of my hairs standing up sharply.

    I gulped as I let out a shaky sigh that fogged a portion my window. Reaching out, I wiped the glass with the back of my forearm...

    The girl is staring at me.

    Her eyes. Dark and black as the dead of night. The reflected light on her eyes seems to emanate an innocent look a child would offer.

    My skin drained off its color.

    I'm... attracted to her eyes. It feels like... I could swim... within that black void she sees the world from.

    I want to see more of her.
    • Nice execution! Nice execution! x 1