two more drabbles
Everyone who warned me was right -- these things are addictive. o_O.
Mrs. B wanted something city-themed to go with a drawing for Stroke of the Pen, so I whipped out an unused opening line and mucked around with it. I may still take it apart and use the opening line somewhere again. Drabbles feel more like building blocks than stories -- they're, like, word-Legos.
Jungle
The evening is drawing on, sunset fading to the color of dried blood and rending the alleys with shadow-cuts, bone-deep and bleeding rats in the filthiest parts of the streets. The undergrowth is all of brittle newspaper and rotting dreams. Cockroaches screech their favorite discordant tunes to the dirty watercolor sky.
There is a lost beauty to this overgrown hedge maze, full of bottomless pits and poison nettles. Ghosts are still dancing the street-drifter waltz down every weed-strewn path, each step as magnificent and delicate as a newborn’s.
Tomorrow morning, the spires will be gilded with molten light once again.
The other I wrote purely for myself. Giddyness over lots of praise and the sudden realization that YES, THERE IS STILL ANOTHER CHAPTER TO WRITE! nearly made me pull a classic facefault.
*dirty word dirty word dirty word*
Writer's Block
It’s here -- that dreaded moment. The fields have yielded nothing but weeds for months. They can lie fallow no longer; the seeds must be planted; let the words grow.
Crap -- I’ve waited too long. People are starving, they want their harvest and I haven’t got one!
Some stunted sprouts here and there -- but they all die off so quickly. I can’t do this! ...can I fake it?
“And then he woke up...” No, they’ll kill me!
Okay, deep breaths. I can do this. Just stare at the blank page a little longer... something’s bound to happen... Ooh! Shiny thing!
Oops.
Coming soon to a fanfic community near you -- the final, revised EtE Chapter 9: Mob Physics!
-Rave
Mrs. B wanted something city-themed to go with a drawing for Stroke of the Pen, so I whipped out an unused opening line and mucked around with it. I may still take it apart and use the opening line somewhere again. Drabbles feel more like building blocks than stories -- they're, like, word-Legos.
Jungle
The evening is drawing on, sunset fading to the color of dried blood and rending the alleys with shadow-cuts, bone-deep and bleeding rats in the filthiest parts of the streets. The undergrowth is all of brittle newspaper and rotting dreams. Cockroaches screech their favorite discordant tunes to the dirty watercolor sky.
There is a lost beauty to this overgrown hedge maze, full of bottomless pits and poison nettles. Ghosts are still dancing the street-drifter waltz down every weed-strewn path, each step as magnificent and delicate as a newborn’s.
Tomorrow morning, the spires will be gilded with molten light once again.
The other I wrote purely for myself. Giddyness over lots of praise and the sudden realization that YES, THERE IS STILL ANOTHER CHAPTER TO WRITE! nearly made me pull a classic facefault.
*dirty word dirty word dirty word*
Writer's Block
It’s here -- that dreaded moment. The fields have yielded nothing but weeds for months. They can lie fallow no longer; the seeds must be planted; let the words grow.
Crap -- I’ve waited too long. People are starving, they want their harvest and I haven’t got one!
Some stunted sprouts here and there -- but they all die off so quickly. I can’t do this! ...can I fake it?
“And then he woke up...” No, they’ll kill me!
Okay, deep breaths. I can do this. Just stare at the blank page a little longer... something’s bound to happen... Ooh! Shiny thing!
Oops.
Coming soon to a fanfic community near you -- the final, revised EtE Chapter 9: Mob Physics!
-Rave