Featuring those who submitted to the previous writing prompt from Live-Love-Write, here are the participants for this week, featured in style, along with information on the newest prompt. Please remember to fave this journal to help support your work and the prompt!
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Last Week's Writing Prompt
Forbidden Colours, PrologueMany years ago, there was a young boy who lived in the heart of a great city. In the city was a school, where he learned, and every day he would walk to it, for it was very close to his home. He was a friendly child, and many of the shop owners came to love him for his kind heart. One sunny day, as he was crossing one of the intersections, he saw a little girl standing on the other side. She was looking around anxiously, with a big red umbrella in her hands. She was all alone. Worried, the boy walked up to her and asked "Hello, are you lost?" "No" she replied, shaking her head, showing a smile "I'm waiting for mom and dad. They said they'd be here to pick me up." And no sooner after she said that, a car pulled up. Relieved that her ride had come, the young boy started back home once more.
The next day, as the young boy was heading back home, he saw the little girl again, at the same intersection. She was carrying the big red umbrella again, yet it was as sunny as the last time he saw h
VirginiaI hear waves
large crashing waves
I felt the sand beneath my feet
It is soft-
It sinks in deep within the creases
I hear the gushing winds
I taste salt in them
I breathe in
For probably this maybe the last of it
I am near the end
I was nothing but a soul trapped
and I need to go
and let go
Just a fragment of my own reality
I felt the cold ocean curtains in my feet-
It electrifies my need
I go in further-
I do not know how it feels like
to sink deep
I know how to swim and I know I can simply float my way back
but I know this
-- I put pebbles in my shirt
maybe it will help in making it quick
-- I have left him a message
I know he will understand
for all the while I know he tried to help
But my mind is way ahead
and I cannot keep up
I cannot stop
so I need to go
So in I go
to the ethers and the seafoams
to the darkness- to the light
to be the filament of all things just
-- I hear the rushing of the waves
It engulfs me in
-- I hear the bubbles and the deep sound
Of death that takes
The sun has set for us
Last time I walked this road, the ground was frozen. Leaves crunched beneath my feet.
Last time I walked this road, I was not alone.
You were here. You held my hand. We laughed and tortured each other with banter.
You span me around, I threw you in the grass.
Those memories make me chuckle.
We took snapshots with careless compositions, silly faces and bright sparking eyes.
In the evening, we gathered sticks and branches, light a fire and sat close to one another.
We kissed as the sunset. We were lost in time.
Now I walk this road again. My feet echo in the silence.
My hand is clutching empty air as your memory becomes too real.
And now I'm too aware and my smile fades away. My eyes well up and I lose composure.
All of those moments we had still linger here. They break my aching heart.
But now those days are gone. We can never have another.
The Sun has set for us my dear...
Dance Of The SeasonGreen garlands were hung along the walls, decorated with red and gold ribbons and the firelight and lamps gave the place a cosy glow. The tables were piled high with food; roasted meats, vegetables and fruits aplenty. The mood was celebratory and cheerful, even more so when someone called for music.
As the band took up their instruments and began to play, the revellers found their feet tapping in time to the beat. A few began to dance; more joined them soon the room was full of people, weaving between each other as they pirouetted around the room. People cheered and waved their tankards and the dancers got faster, their feet moving to the fast notes of the flute.
Skirts and shirt tails flapping, they danced on; their arms interlinked as they spun in circles. The room echoed to their footsteps and cries of enjoyment, swept along as they were by the music. Young and old alike, brought together in celebration of the season; dancing until with a final f
This week's writing prompt, from January 11 to January 20, is:
Respond to one or more of the selected pieces of art:
~kokoszkaa.deviantart.com/art/i…: i miss you...
Terribly sorry for the delay, folks. I hope everybody finds something to write about from these two images!