Friday, October 9, 2009

Character Appearance

1. His hands were huge and steady, not even close to innocent, as he reached forward to shake the hand of his opponent.

2. The tiny leotard fit her perfectly, showing off her perfect figure that she had never before bothered to expose. She looked similar to everyone else on the stage- her hair pulled up in a tight bun and her eyes glittering with make-up.

3. Soon the sky would be able to pass for black- but for now it was a deep, aquatic blue. A man sat in an alleyway, his black hoody pulled fully over his face. His eyes never strayed from the ground, but even still he was conscious of the darkness pulling over. The darkness that would hide his trail of greed.

An exercise I did out out of a writing book from the library. Can anyone guess who/what they are?
I'm going to try and update more regularly now- thanks everyone for the comments!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

The Bet

Thick, palpable darkness presses in on me. I become less and less of the dock under my feet as, step by step, I walk forward. I concentrate on the rough sound of my shoe, sliding against the wood.

Only a few more steps, and I'll be at the end. And I'll have won the bet.
I squat down and feel the wood in my feet. The dock doesn't end for another ten feet or so, I'm sure, but I get more and more nervous as the darkness completes itself.
It can't get any darker now. If it does, it will be no difference to me. I can't see anything. I begin to wonder if even the dark itself is an illusion of my mind.
The air grows suddenly chillier, and the wind whips my hair. I think of the bed that I've just left, warm and inviting. Twenty bucks, I remind myself, twenty bucks is the winner's prize. My prize.

Saltwater sprays into my face, my lips. I taste the saltwater and begin to shake. I slowly shift my hands until they're behind me, and I scoot forward, feet first. Again and again and again. I try to stop thinking.

But I can't. I try to remember the last time a saw light. Real, blaring, glaring, solid light. Hours and hours ago, at breakfast, when I shoved a piece of toast in my mouth and headed out the door, where the sky was dark and cloudy. When the storm left, it took the electricity with it.

That feels like days ago. The last time I saw the light.
I cool my fear by speaking aloud:
"The sun always remembers." It sounds stupid, even to me, but here, in the dark, the cold, the wet, these words hold warmth and promise.
I scoot five scoots forward, and imagine tomorrow. Twenty bucks, and a sky full of gold.

I must be at the end of the dock by now. My arms are shaking from both the cold and from carrying my weight.
I sit on the dock, criss-cross, shivering. The sea is so close, I'm already drenched in it.

I slide forward on my stomach. I take my camera out of my pocket. And I'm still touching the same wood I've been touching for hours.
What if, somehow I turned around? At first, I declare it silly, but then I realize... when I changed from walking on my and hands and feet to my stomach, did I turn so that my face was pointing towards the end of the dock? Or towards land?
I can't remember.

"The sun always remembers." The sun is laughing at me.
I hear foot steps, then. They scare me so much that I'm up on my feet in seconds. And it takes only seconds more to remind myself the horrible prediciment I'm in.
Big, echoing footsteps. Walking up the dock. No flashlight.
A scream is trapped in my throat.

The only thing I can do is run, so thats what I do.
With a sharp cry, and alot of empty air, I realize that at last, I have found the end of the dock.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

WRiTing CoNtEst!!!!

There's going to be a creative writing contest for children (anyone 14 and under). The only real guidelines to what you have to write is that it has to be about "Dream Power".
The winners get to be posted in an anthology!!!! Plus you get an ipod and stickers and things. I am definitely going to try to do it. The deadline is October 31, 2009, so we have all of summer and a little extra.

Here's is the link to the webpage:

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

A One and Only Perfect Life

...As the sun set in the sky, she knew that nothing would be the same. Yet nothing would keep tomorrow from coming, so she would have to learn to let go. For herself, and her people.

The iReader clicked off, informing me that the book was over. I glared at the blank screen, infuriated with the dull ending.

Ma, left for the library, be back shortly. Send.

I thought-texted to my mother, who was on a walk in the park. Black text automatically appeared onto the screen of my cell phone. It was a top-notch phone, with thought-texting included. No more having to press buttons. Think it, and it's done. I didn't understand exactly how it worked, but that didn't matter so much. I would leave that for the smart people to understand. Even though they probably had enough technology to have an online library, where you could download books instantly, they decided not to so that there would still be a sense of community. It was the only place left in the whole city where so many people would get together in such a little space. The only other place where anyone went besides thier houses was the park, but that was too big to form anything close to a sense of community.

As soon as I stepped out the door of my house, there were two moving sidewalks side by side, one going left and one right. The left took you to the library; the right to the park. It wasn't very complicated.

In seconds, the library slid into view. The walls were a flawless white, with a clear foundation. Can you believe that years ago the foundations were solid? They would crack like a fragile eggshell as soon as the first earthquake came along. It was sad, really. Earthquakes are no longer a problem, thanks to Sanuel Leaf, who invented the most primary form of the thick, gooey material in 2094. It absorbs the movement and slows it down, keeping the people inside safe. I'd just learned about it on the History course of my iTeacher, so it was more interesting now than it normally was.

As I entered the library, the kindly old librarian looked up to nod a hello at me before going back to reading her iReader. The library was filled with many, many people, most of them sitting at tables, reading. A small percent were by the shelves looking at book descriptions, which the government had also kept, to keep the former idea of a library alive.

There weren't any books any more. They had left along with the days of Global Destruction, way back before 2050. Trees and any sort of shrubbery were protected by GlobalPlan#4, which was in place to keep the Global Destruction from happening again. You would be sent to prison if caught selling or using anything from trees. This was rare though, because there were so many better things to replace it.

After downloading several interesting titles, I headed home. For the rest of the day, I would talk to my iFriend, take a mandatory school course on my iTeacher, and take a walk in the park so that my exercise numbers would go up.

The next day would be the same.

And the next.

And the next.

Every single day of my life would, in fact, be identical. With the exception of the iWork I would get for my twenty-first birthday, same as every other citizen of the world. It would customize me with a job that would take up time, and would, at first, be challenging.

After years, though, it would be boring. And everything would be exactly the same.

Ah, yes, a life of luxury, indeed.