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Sep. 18th, 2012 03:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liptonrm_backupI'm trying to get my writing mojo back. This whole not writing thing is killing me, you guys. Anyway, I "borrowed" a prompt table from somewhere around these here internets and I'm going to try to use it for some original fiction writing.
I've explored some of these themes before, but the post-apocalypse never seems to get old.
Dark
The sun was going down. Anne watched the shadows move, the day slipping by with every blink of her eyes. Cold air streamed across the porch, blowing her hair helter skelter around her face and sending dry leaves skidding around the yard, their dry rattle hardly louder than the blood pounding in her ears.
Night was coming and she was alone.
The electricity hadn’t worked in days. Some transformer, somewhere, had burned out and that was it, no more lights, no more TV, nothing. She’d found that the silence was worse than the dark. She’d never realized how much noise there had been in her life, her life had had a constant soundtrack of random sounds; the pulse of a distant radio, the rumbling din of a TV switched on low in the background. Her world had gone quiet and dark all at the same moment.
The sun dipped below the horizon and the streetlights didn’t come on. Her eyes strained to make out the neighbor’s house that was only a few short feet away. The wind picked up, frozen air slipping through her sweater like needles or spears. Her head turned up and she saw the stars, bright and cold, in the sky. There seemed to be more of them, now, and they were so much closer than they had ever before been.
She pulled her sweater more tightly around her shoulder, a thin warden against the night. She turned back to the dark and empty house. It was going to be a long night.
Smell (Next)
comments at http://liptonrm.dreamwidth.org/48816.html.
I've explored some of these themes before, but the post-apocalypse never seems to get old.
Dark
The sun was going down. Anne watched the shadows move, the day slipping by with every blink of her eyes. Cold air streamed across the porch, blowing her hair helter skelter around her face and sending dry leaves skidding around the yard, their dry rattle hardly louder than the blood pounding in her ears.
Night was coming and she was alone.
The electricity hadn’t worked in days. Some transformer, somewhere, had burned out and that was it, no more lights, no more TV, nothing. She’d found that the silence was worse than the dark. She’d never realized how much noise there had been in her life, her life had had a constant soundtrack of random sounds; the pulse of a distant radio, the rumbling din of a TV switched on low in the background. Her world had gone quiet and dark all at the same moment.
The sun dipped below the horizon and the streetlights didn’t come on. Her eyes strained to make out the neighbor’s house that was only a few short feet away. The wind picked up, frozen air slipping through her sweater like needles or spears. Her head turned up and she saw the stars, bright and cold, in the sky. There seemed to be more of them, now, and they were so much closer than they had ever before been.
She pulled her sweater more tightly around her shoulder, a thin warden against the night. She turned back to the dark and empty house. It was going to be a long night.
Smell (Next)
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Date: 2012-09-19 12:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-09 07:25 pm (UTC)This is creepy in an ominous way. I can't believe it took me this long to get around to reading this. You should write 500 of these ficlets and then put them together in a book for my bookshelf. Yep, you should.
I also really liked the bit about how there seemed to be more stars because it's something I always thought would be true, when the lights go off forever.
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Date: 2013-02-17 01:42 pm (UTC)