BraveWrite, Week 1

Happy rainy Thursday! This was meant to go up yesterday but time got away from me.

This is one of the prompts I have started to do on Twitter and I plan for it to up on Wednesdays. Make it a… Hump Day sort of thing.

Just like the very short stories, the prompt word has the ‘#’ in front of it. Feel free to take those words and write something around them, inspired by them, or etc!

 

Hope you enjoy!

 

September 5th

Her nature was #bellicose in every sense of the word. Small issues became fixed grudges that called for violence in hopes of resolution.

But she tamped down the need for confrontation. You catch flies with honey, not vinegar, she reminded herself and forced a smile.

 

September 6th

His bare feet carried him further from the house he had called home. The cries, shattered dishes, and poorly patched walls were behind him. His tears blurred his vision but the bite of gravel told him to stop.

Sat under the oak tree, his mother’s voice screamed, #skedaddle, again

 

September 7th

She twittered about her cabin, attuned to its energies, and grabbed various vials. With measuring spoons and cups, she poured ingredients into the cast iron cauldron and stirred.

Singing the spell, her #melange bubbled and simmered the rainbow of colors. It was done

 

September 8th

She would serve as the #conduit tonight and the fear it sent through her curled her toes. Shivers ran down her spine and her heart beat furiously inside her chest. She was suffocating within her own skin and helpless against their wishes.

She heard them call her.

 

September 9th

His mind created insults as sharp as blade to slay himself. The words were grenades, blasting him #asunder. The onslaught was endless, the booms echoing in an eternity of repetition. His skin tingled to life as his heart wished to crumble. He continued on in his shell.

 

September 10th

#Prisms were transparent, relaying rainbows across the world. Their presence a blessing, a joy, uplifting to those with one in their life.She was scarred, cracked. She absorbed the dark like a sponge and kept it to herself. Basked in it. No #prism to shine light.

It Consumes (An Ottava rima Poem)

Fire and brimstone in her fury filled gaze

Burning her enemies, forever scarred.

She dances around the ashes and blaze,

A wicked smile bears teeth, her face unmarred.

Death abounds, surrounds, holds her in its maze.

A game she thought to play, leaves her in shards.

For Wrath creates victims, ripping out hearts.

Lives left damaged, long after it departs.

Deadland (A Huitain Poem Attempt)

Lost in this wasteland of a mind.

It’s Earth burned, scarred, and dying.

Leaves are rusted streaks in rotted vines.

Ground now barren, plants left drying.

How to fix what is now horrifying?

Wish for rain, and till the pained land.

Turn ashes to life, so gratifying.

Surely prayers can save the damned.