project; rhyme scheme (1)
project; rhyme scheme
find five completely different words that would never be said in a sentence together, and make them “rhyme” in prose no longer than 500 words. oh, and just to make this all the more difficult, throw in a random genre and watch your hands die.
in other words;
welcome to writer’s hell.
You brush your teeth for the umpteenth time, the sharp tang of the toothpaste still burning your throat as you begin again to wield your toothbrush against invisible grime. You are certain that your teeth, in fact, have never been cleaner than they are now - but are they clean enough?
A quick, cursory glance to your watch tells you that they will never be clean enough, but this will have to do for now. There’s twenty minutes left, and you dash out to your living room in dismay. You’ve never been one for leaving things around (a trait your other bachelor friends have often pointed out in awe) but today the place is a mess. Nothing, it seems, is right. The chairs aren’t straight, the cushions are slanted, the curtains are heavy and, heaven forbid, are those chips lying on the floor?
There is no time for anything, and you find yourself in a frenzied mess as you attempt to pick up individual chips and push the chairs in at the same time only to realize that you only really have two arms, not six. You find yourself fifteen minutes later red in the face, with typical perfectionist distaste lining your mouth as you check the mirror one last time.You vaguely remind yourself of a puppy you saw off the street - overexcited, panting, and terrified all at once.
The living room is not the usual impeccable white, your hair won’t listen to you, and for some reason your favorite sweater is off tumbling in the washing machine; but before you can do anything, the bell rings and you find that you cannot breathe.
(In fact, you find your senses have left you for ever when you feel two warm arms encircling you in a hug, and a touch of pursed lips on cheek.)
Nothing is ever perfect, and today of all days everything was a mess;
but the minute she walkes in, you find that maybe, maybe, you wouldn’t mind the mess.
A/N - YES, I JUST WROTE ROMANCE. HALLELUJAH. NOW START RUNNING.
find five completely different words that would never be said in a sentence together, and make them “rhyme” in prose no longer than 500 words. oh, and just to make this all the more difficult, throw in a random genre and watch your hands die.
in other words;
welcome to writer’s hell.
You brush your teeth for the umpteenth time, the sharp tang of the toothpaste still burning your throat as you begin again to wield your toothbrush against invisible grime. You are certain that your teeth, in fact, have never been cleaner than they are now - but are they clean enough?
A quick, cursory glance to your watch tells you that they will never be clean enough, but this will have to do for now. There’s twenty minutes left, and you dash out to your living room in dismay. You’ve never been one for leaving things around (a trait your other bachelor friends have often pointed out in awe) but today the place is a mess. Nothing, it seems, is right. The chairs aren’t straight, the cushions are slanted, the curtains are heavy and, heaven forbid, are those chips lying on the floor?
There is no time for anything, and you find yourself in a frenzied mess as you attempt to pick up individual chips and push the chairs in at the same time only to realize that you only really have two arms, not six. You find yourself fifteen minutes later red in the face, with typical perfectionist distaste lining your mouth as you check the mirror one last time.You vaguely remind yourself of a puppy you saw off the street - overexcited, panting, and terrified all at once.
The living room is not the usual impeccable white, your hair won’t listen to you, and for some reason your favorite sweater is off tumbling in the washing machine; but before you can do anything, the bell rings and you find that you cannot breathe.
(In fact, you find your senses have left you for ever when you feel two warm arms encircling you in a hug, and a touch of pursed lips on cheek.)
Nothing is ever perfect, and today of all days everything was a mess;
but the minute she walkes in, you find that maybe, maybe, you wouldn’t mind the mess.
Click to viewA/N - YES, I JUST WROTE ROMANCE. HALLELUJAH. NOW START RUNNING.