( writing prompts for future reference/anyone who needs drabbleprompts )

( Rei, Li, forget )

.:excerpt:.

He was never one to step into things.

Conversation whirls about him, time and tragedy hovers 'bove him. Present can become quite a haze and though less is missed by silver gaze it is merely that.

Observe.

He doesn't dance in the daytime, chooses instead for night-chime, clock strikes twelve so he delves into movement, again. And even then ( Read more... )

( His Little Secret )

It... would be very nice.

Not to have an artistic block last this long.

EDIT: ...as I very quickly found that the prompts my good friend Arry gave weren't working out for me...

I've decided to take the musical approach.

And, lucky for me, I managed this. <3

( C-h-a-n-g-e )

Soso... we learned about flash fiction before I fled to independent study, yes? And... it's amazing. Likereally. It's even supposed to be shorter than most of these, I think. Maybe? I've lost track of the specifics. lD

BUT. To let you know I'm still alive, I share with you some random flash-fiction, not proof-read. All done within the span of the ( Read more... )

A mere succession of thoughts, images, or emotions that one voluntarily indulges within.

Then could it be any surprise he suspects this a dream?

Indeed, feet dance over and across sand with a sort of surreal grace, keeping in perfect time with each other, dancing, waiting, playing as if a game of tag. Now here now not, come get me and here I am~ A ( Read more... )

The knife falls from his hands.

He collapses with an unnatural ease, like the grace he’s practiced as a dancer. Something that strangely doesn’t jar him like perhaps it should. No. He crumples instead as paper in the rain might, this slow unraveling of posture, tension, sensation.

He thinks it should feel better to die.

With labored breaths that he ( Read more... )

She wakes up slowly in the mornings, with numb in her bones and dull soreness that pains her underused muscles. Her rheumy eyes open with some difficulty, and she immediately squints against the meager sunlight that falls into her window. She coughs, softly, as if trying to attract attention.

She lies there placidly for long minutes that don’t ( Read more... )

( Read more... )