THE St. Louis Speakeasy
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 Post subject: Picture Practice
PostPosted: Thu May 16, 2013 12:53 pm GMT 

Joined: Thu Apr 04, 2013 12:46 pm GMT
Posts: 122
This is a writing game that's pretty much just for fun, but it'll help anyone looking to get better at the craft improve their skills =]

The idea is you write a little story about the picture posted above, then post a new picture for the next person. The story can be as short or long as you like, and it can either be written where the picture illustrates the story or simply inspires the concept! Totally low key, and just for farts and giggles.

Since there's no picture above, I'm gonna cheat a bit and post a picture for me to write about, then post a picture to get people started. So, read (or skip) my example, then write about the last picture I post and at the end add your own pic for the next player!


The cold wind whipping at my cheeks continuously blew my hood from my head, not allowing me any relief from the frigid gusts. My clothing flapped and cracked in the wind with the sound of a sail that has torn free of the mast. I clutched close to the warmth beneath me and gazed out into the sunset, and falling moon.

"Why are you running?" His voice rumbled deep.

"I'm not running. This is my job. I need silk." I retorted with a straight voice, but the lie and defensiveness could not be hidden from Rimsine. I swayed in silence with the movement of the journey. The birds were a comforting calm.

"Heading off to the northern-most part of the world? Into enemy lands? Simply for silk that could be imported--"

"Too expensive," I inserted.

"--Or at least obtained with others?" Rimsine knew I knew. He was more pointing out my alternatives to being alone. So I didn't refute.

"This just has to happen. I have to sort this all out alone. Is there really something so wrong with that?" I shouted. The wind whipped at my words. But he heard.

"I Know, Catulla." He never looked back when he spoke to me. I was glad for that. Right now, his dark eyes would be too much. "That's not what I asked."

I felt the distress wrinkling my eyes form into an expression of frustrated lack of understanding.

"I asked, why."

"Because!" My shouts finally caused tears to break from the barriers of my eyes. "I'm tired of everyone telling me what they want me to do and be! Because I'm the one who ought to have that control over myself! Because I'm good enough to control my own destiny!!"

There was no sound beyond the gales. My hiccuping sobs were washed away by it.

Below, between the clouds, the monastery deep in the mountains where crimson silk is spun revealed itself.

Rimsine said nothing, and I knew he'd know the answer the whole time. Spirit animals are like that. He tipped his wings and we soared down to the mountain monastery.


Now it's your turn! Don't even care if it's good! Just get some words down!



 Post subject: Re: Picture Practice
PostPosted: Sat May 18, 2013 3:18 pm GMT 
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Joined: Sat Nov 10, 2012 6:10 pm GMT
Posts: 666
Location: Inside the Mind
Custom Title: sucks.
He swore that this infinite trek through the desert would be the end of him. Or maybe that cheetah in the distance, slowly stalking its prey with no awareness of the other entity in plain sight. He had no means to hunt it down and eat it out of pure desperation; he only had a cellphone with a dead battery, an empty flask hanging from his belt, and the clothes on his back. The sun beamed down on the man with no mercy, and the unbearable humidity was a killer in itself. How did he end up here? Why did he end up here? Last time he was awake, he was at home with his wife and two kids, lying in a comfortable bed, watching reruns of this comedy series his wife liked. Now he's walking alone in the middle of a vast desert, and the orange dunes that stretched for literally miles around will be his i inevitable burial ground. Staring at the cheetah, who was ready to pounce at nothing, he wondered if he could just get its attention and end it all right there. He was going to die anyway, so why not do it now and get it over with? He shrugged, and began to run towards the animal, yelling so loudly that the echoes were ginormous. As he got closer to the cheetah, he noticed that it was still stalking the nothing it was hunting for in the first place. Then, all of a sudden, he tripped and fell onto it, landing face first onto the sand. Five seconds after the fall, he weakly got up and dusted the sand off of him. His eyes scanned the vicinity of the dunes, and there was no sight of that cheetah anywhere. It was just a mirage. Realizing this, he put his face in his hands, and let out a scream of frustration.



hooray for flickr


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