Sir Edgar in all his dapper refinery was not one to give way to terror, but when he saw the scalpel at the woman’s throat he felt the ripper had won.
Just a couple more days left in the challenge. If you’re just joining me here, the challenge is this: write a story in just one sentence. Sentence can be any length, but once a period is in place, that’s it. So here we go with my attempt on Day 5.
The Bible told him what to do, and though it wasn’t what we would have done, perhaps our minds weren’t quite as twisted as his.
This daily writing challenge is making me want to do the daily writing thing in NaNoWriMo next month. I know I wouldn’t be able to finish the required 50k words this time around, but it is giving me the itch to get back to long form compositions. Okay, so here we go with the challenge at hand today, to tell a story or illustrate a scene in just one sentence. Don’t be afraid to do your own here and post it in the comments. Have fun!
David stood at the tracks, watching the locomotive’s approach, thinking to himself that high school was over and stowing away on a boxcar would carry him to a better place.
It’s day 3 of this personal writing challenge. I’m having fun with this, and I feel like it’s helping motivate me a little. Sometimes I spend a great deal of thinking on what I’m writing, trying to keep characters and events in line with the larger story. But with this challenge I can write off the cuff, not really thinking about where the story will lead. Just getting into the simple act of writing. If you need that kind of motivation, I hope you’ll try the challenge as well. It only requires you to tell a story or show a scene in one sentence. The sentence can be as long as you like, but when you put that period in, that’s it. Here’s mine for today.
My father had a knack for disappearing days at a time, causing both mom and I to wonder if there was another woman, or perhaps a more sinister reason for the gun in his drawer.
It’s raining and I’m standing at the window
Holding a love that’s only a week old
And thinking how wonderful life is
Between the raindrops
And the promise of the sun.
P.D. Aronson. 9/13/17
The piano sits silent. I can’t bring myself to touch the keys, to place nimble fingers on the black and white and produce the smallest measure. I am empty, devoid of music and sound, preferring this, the beauty of the vacuum left behind by my melancholic spirit. I am but the husk of an artist, bewildered by the absence of inspirational thought, or the motivation to create something from the nothing. I long to see the notes again within my mind’s eye, fearing it is now lost, cast out into the void to be found by someone else, who will make more of it than I ever did. The hall is unoccupied, the applause a memory. The piano sits silent. Alone.
Paul D Aronson July 2017
Today I thought I would try a little experiment. Consider it a challenge or prompt if you’d like. The challenge to myself was to write a short poem or rhyme, as well as a short piece of prose or free write. Both pieces had to cover the same subject or theme, and would allow the reader to see it in two different ways. I don’t know if I succeeeded in this, but here’s what I came up with. Hope you enjoy.
We are the dreams of the sleeping gods
Peacefully adrift on oceans of time
Wondering if there is more than this
Being a mere fragment of the mind.
Once, when I was young, I dreamed I was a dream, and at any moment the gods would awake and I would find myself drifting off into nothing, my whole life amounting to just a figment of heaven’s imagination. In this, the futility of growing up became apparent. For after all, if we are but a dream in the minds of the gods, then nothing is permanence. At any given moment, our very world could change, even to the point where the gods wished to dream of us no more.