Writing Prompt ~ The Best Paradox

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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

“Dangerous Games”

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Admin's Choice:

made graves of your cheekbonesyou play these dangerous games with yourself
and sometimes when you hold your bones so delicate
it's as if you know mine are breaking
i stepped over the cliff and
fell shattered on to your chessboard
and you were so careful as you moved me into place
so clever, a charming man skipping his summer stones
buried his limbs in the black soil
i was always you pawn
but i am just a stranger and
as incapable now as i was at 14
i don't mind that my words
bounce off your porcelain skull
yours only buried themselves
in my skin when i needed to remember how to be
okay

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Poetry

Dangerous Games
This is Timmy.
Feeling bored, Timmy?
"Yes, sir!"
Well, Timmy, you're in luck!
Here is a chess board,
Why don't you play chess
With Mary over there?
Having fun, Timmy?
"Yes, sir!"
I'm glad to hear it, because
if you win this game,
you get to shoot Mary dead!
"What?"
Take this 9 mm, and if you
Win the game, you get to
Shoot Mary between the eyes!
"I don't want to shoot Mary!"
Don't worry about that, Timmy,
After all, you haven't won yet!
"I don't want to win!"
What are you talking about,
Everybody wants to win!
After all, nobody needs a loser.
"Excuse me, I need to go
To the bathroom."
You can't get out that easily!
Uh oh, somebody's got a checkmate!
Shoot her in the head Timmy!
I'm afraid that we'll have to kill you
If you don't cooperate!
Isn't that swell?
What are you waiting for, Timmy?
Do it now, Timmy!
Shoot her, Timmy!
You've won the game!
Enjoy your reward! :thumb315962779: EternityHere you go turn the page
To dance alone on the stage
To I less often control my rage
To I feel you were my cage
To I'm so fucked for my age You and Your Dangerous GamesHot and heavy
my breathing
is rapidly
increasing
A dangerous game
of tag
where in your hand
is a knife
Blood already stains
my fingers and my face
from your knife
lashing at me
Every step I take
is hasty
Every breath I take
is hurried
I have to get away from you
You and your weapon
you and your
dangerous games My Role NowNow she's broken and beaten,
You got what you want.
The apathetic, obedient child,
The only thing you wanted was a slave.
She rather feel nothing,
Than pain-
So 'blissfully numb.'
I'd do anything,
To take her away-
Before a drop fell.
Do you know,
How hard it is for her to close her eyes-
How your demons plague her.
Did you get,
That this isn't you daughter talking.
Now understand,
How bad it is-
That she colapsed mid-way. A Dangerous GameShe walks along the fine line between happiness and despair; she plays a dangerous game of life and death. A terrible fate awaits her fall – patiently biding its time until it has her in its grasp. It will one day have its way: she knows this all too well. Yet she still dances along the edge, refusing to give in and fall down.
She never tries to run away; she knows it would be pointless. One cannot escape their fate, nor can one change the course of time. Thus she stalls and leaves the beast to wait for the fragile wings of her heart to stop beating – the time when she will fall into its long, sharp, and deadly claws.
She plays the beast's game, slipping back and forth between the light and the dark. It plays with her. It makes her suffer; it makes her fear. She does not know when the end of this game will draw near. She screams and pleads for the end to come to no avail.
She is just the beast's toy. It throws her around like a doll. She once tried to fight, but now she sees

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Prose

:thumb316773196: :thumb314050555: Dangerous Moon Games     The Games. Everyone knew about them. Everyone feared them. No one talked about them. It was forbidden. And no one broke the law. Breaking the law meant a life time of torture before you finally gave into your insanity and killed yourself.
     Every three years, when five moons of our planet, Jaren, aligned they would select the weakest and strongest of our 30 tribes ranging in the early years of 200 to nearly adult. They bring them to the hollow center of the planet, and force them to fight against the creatures of hell and others who participate in the trials.
     The rules are simple. Complete each obstacle course exactly the way they want. If they want you to survive going across a lava trench without a bridge or armor, you do it. If they want you to walk on your hands through the stinging body of a giant jellyfish whiling carrying a chicken's egg, you do it or die trying.
     RouletteI watch the other men's faces nervously. We, six, sit around a wooden card table, sweating and glancing at one another. The room is dark, the only light comes from the seeping red sunset behind the half-open blinds. Our shadows elongate against the walls like a threatening mural, an omen for what is to come.
I take a deep breath, "A-are we sure about this?"
"What's a little fun without a little danger?" I can hear the cruel smile upon her lips. She watches us from the corner of the room. "Unless," she speaks with a sly undertone, "any of you boys are willing to talk?"
We stay dead silent. Eyes shift, no we will not rat anyone out. The cost doesn't matter, we have to tell ourselves over and over. Well, at least I have to.
"How about you first? Landon?"
I look to the man to my left, eyes wide. All our eyes are on the wormy little man. Silently, we know he is safe, yet fear still plagues our hearts to beat faster.
He reaches to the middle of the table. His hand shakily grabs the Revelation -FFM 1-Cobblestone paved a path through the core of the village. Hundreds of footfalls wore down the moon-lit street and told the tale of merchants, citizens and festivals that took place in the past. Silence veiled the streets, broken by the whisper of the wind.
Zali strode through the city with soft, calculated steps. The darkness wrapped around her like a cloak and she moved with confidence, unseen and unheard by the villages in their homes. Dirt replaced the cobblestone as she turned onto a smaller path and moved farther from the center of the village.
Research led her to that village. Rumors amongst the people told her that her target was near, most recently in the small village she found herself in. Her hand shifted to her waist, touching the rough hilt of a blade, hidden in a sheath. Whispers led her further down the dirt paths, promising her that the man she sought was near.
She rounded a corner and distanced herself further from civilization. Scattered homes decorated her surrounding

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This week's writing prompt, from July 27 to August 3, is:

The Best Paradox

As an abstraction, it is inconsequential; as a reality, it can range from terrifying to gloriously mysterious. Be as creative as you can possibly be; make your paradox the best (or worst) it can possibly be.

You can feel free to write about a fiction scenario, mythological characters, etc. as long as your submission is original.

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