The exercise:
Write about: a storm.
Showing posts with label Storm Prompt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Storm Prompt. Show all posts
Monday December 15th, 2014
The exercise:
Write about: waiting for the storm.
All six packages were successfully acquired this morning, with minimal trouble at the border. Max is pretty excited about his new electric toothbrush. Or, rather, the idea of it. Not much of a fan of it when it's turned on.
We'll get there eventually. We need to do something, at any rate. He hates having his teeth brushed about as much as wicked witches hate water.
Looking forward to the photography shoot/lesson tomorrow afternoon. This could be the start of something big.
Mine:
All throughout the valley people are huddled in shelters. Families, friends, complete strangers. Coming together in a desperate attempt to survive.
Some are calling it the Storm of the Century. Others say it will be worse than anything that has come before it in recorded history. Father Matthias called it the End of Days.
Whatever you wish to call it, the storm will be here soon. Its rumble has begun reverberating around the mountain tops already. So folks hide away, count their supplies, and wonder if there will be anything to return to once the storm has passed.
Not me, though. I've got no family, no friends, no pressing desire to see another sunrise. I'm sure I could have still found a shelter that would have taken me in, I just wasn't interested. I'd rather be up here, with camera in hand.
Somebody's gotta capture Mother Nature's temper tantrum for those who come later and wonder what it must have been like and it might as well be me.
Write about: waiting for the storm.
All six packages were successfully acquired this morning, with minimal trouble at the border. Max is pretty excited about his new electric toothbrush. Or, rather, the idea of it. Not much of a fan of it when it's turned on.
We'll get there eventually. We need to do something, at any rate. He hates having his teeth brushed about as much as wicked witches hate water.
Looking forward to the photography shoot/lesson tomorrow afternoon. This could be the start of something big.
Mine:
All throughout the valley people are huddled in shelters. Families, friends, complete strangers. Coming together in a desperate attempt to survive.
Some are calling it the Storm of the Century. Others say it will be worse than anything that has come before it in recorded history. Father Matthias called it the End of Days.
Whatever you wish to call it, the storm will be here soon. Its rumble has begun reverberating around the mountain tops already. So folks hide away, count their supplies, and wonder if there will be anything to return to once the storm has passed.
Not me, though. I've got no family, no friends, no pressing desire to see another sunrise. I'm sure I could have still found a shelter that would have taken me in, I just wasn't interested. I'd rather be up here, with camera in hand.
Somebody's gotta capture Mother Nature's temper tantrum for those who come later and wonder what it must have been like and it might as well be me.
Monday May 13th, 2013
The exercise:
Write about: the storm shelter.
There's definitely a storm brewing out there. The light after sundown tonight was... electric. Like there should have been lightning forking across the sky.
I went down to the basement to grab some laundry and felt like I was going into... well, today's prompt had to come from somewhere, right?
Big day tomorrow. Going to try to get some extra sleep tonight.
Which might be hard, considering Max has just come down with his second cold.
Mine:
Rain lashes against the walls in fruitless fury, making nary a dent upon its surface. Wind uproots trees and hurls them toward the building like a giant's javelin, and those huddled within notice nothing. No cup is overturned, not even a stray drop falls wasted to the floor.
It had been built to withstand the end of days, and this storm was a far cry from doomsday. Cracks were nonexistent, foundations dug deep into the earth. Too deep, some said. Ancient things might be disturbed at such depths.
Such concerns were met with scorn and summarily ignored. The shelter would keep them safe from any disasters Mother Nature might think to hurl against its exterior.
Disasters born within those walls, however, were an entirely different matter...
Write about: the storm shelter.
There's definitely a storm brewing out there. The light after sundown tonight was... electric. Like there should have been lightning forking across the sky.
I went down to the basement to grab some laundry and felt like I was going into... well, today's prompt had to come from somewhere, right?
Big day tomorrow. Going to try to get some extra sleep tonight.
Which might be hard, considering Max has just come down with his second cold.
Mine:
Rain lashes against the walls in fruitless fury, making nary a dent upon its surface. Wind uproots trees and hurls them toward the building like a giant's javelin, and those huddled within notice nothing. No cup is overturned, not even a stray drop falls wasted to the floor.
It had been built to withstand the end of days, and this storm was a far cry from doomsday. Cracks were nonexistent, foundations dug deep into the earth. Too deep, some said. Ancient things might be disturbed at such depths.
Such concerns were met with scorn and summarily ignored. The shelter would keep them safe from any disasters Mother Nature might think to hurl against its exterior.
Disasters born within those walls, however, were an entirely different matter...
Thursday October 29th, 2009
The exercise:
The prompt today: the coming storm.
With just a couple days left before NaNoWriMo begins, it has been occupying a lot of brain space lately.
Mine:
This surging wave of words
Will not drag me under;
But how much will it hurt,
I can't help but wonder.
How long will the scars last?
How different will I be?
But only time will tell,
So I'll just wait and see.
I hope that when I reach
That distant other side,
I can look back and feel
Completely satisfied.
So here's to the journey
Thousands are set to make:
May we all bravely meet
These waves about to break.
The prompt today: the coming storm.
With just a couple days left before NaNoWriMo begins, it has been occupying a lot of brain space lately.
Mine:
This surging wave of words
Will not drag me under;
But how much will it hurt,
I can't help but wonder.
How long will the scars last?
How different will I be?
But only time will tell,
So I'll just wait and see.
I hope that when I reach
That distant other side,
I can look back and feel
Completely satisfied.
So here's to the journey
Thousands are set to make:
May we all bravely meet
These waves about to break.
Tuesday May 26th, 2009
The exercise:
Inspired by my view from work, today's starter is: storm clouds.
Mine:
The clouds overhead were thick with rain, causing the sun to darken their underbellies to a menacing grey that was so dark it was nearly black. In turn, the clouds cast down their shadows onto the land, sending the poor folk of Dawndale scurrying for cover between fearful skyward glances.
They knew the price of being caught in the coming downpour and none were willing to pay it.
As the first poisonous drops broke free from the gathered masses and hurtled downward, all of the citizens of Dawndale were safely under shelter. All but Simon Toll, who stood defiantly in the middle of his waving field of corn, staring stubbornly at the drops which approached him at suicidal speeds. He glared as though he would stop their progress with the force of his hatred.
But the rain spared no thought for Simon Toll and he suffered the fate of all the obstinate fools before him who thought to stand against the rain.
Inspired by my view from work, today's starter is: storm clouds.
Mine:
The clouds overhead were thick with rain, causing the sun to darken their underbellies to a menacing grey that was so dark it was nearly black. In turn, the clouds cast down their shadows onto the land, sending the poor folk of Dawndale scurrying for cover between fearful skyward glances.
They knew the price of being caught in the coming downpour and none were willing to pay it.
As the first poisonous drops broke free from the gathered masses and hurtled downward, all of the citizens of Dawndale were safely under shelter. All but Simon Toll, who stood defiantly in the middle of his waving field of corn, staring stubbornly at the drops which approached him at suicidal speeds. He glared as though he would stop their progress with the force of his hatred.
But the rain spared no thought for Simon Toll and he suffered the fate of all the obstinate fools before him who thought to stand against the rain.
Monday December 29th, 2008
The exercise:
The prompt for today is: wind storm.
Mine:
The trees are dancing in the sun’s fading light while the gingerbread houses of my neighbourhood watch silently, their eyes painted with white and blue Christmas lights. The wind whistles through my window as I observe the maple tree’s swaying limbs and the pine tree’s fleeing needles.
The street light is rocking gently back and forth, unable to resist joining the ballet. A solitary bird struggles by on feeble wings, too stubborn to turn and allow the gusts to take it where they please. The SUV across the street rumbles to life, unafraid of the slush and snow covering the road like dunes of sand on a far away beach.
Will I find the courage to join this perfect parade? Or shall I hide inside, awaiting calmer conditions?
But what is the use in waiting? There will never be another now, so join me as I go out to embrace this moment of wonder and beauty.
The prompt for today is: wind storm.
Mine:
The trees are dancing in the sun’s fading light while the gingerbread houses of my neighbourhood watch silently, their eyes painted with white and blue Christmas lights. The wind whistles through my window as I observe the maple tree’s swaying limbs and the pine tree’s fleeing needles.
The street light is rocking gently back and forth, unable to resist joining the ballet. A solitary bird struggles by on feeble wings, too stubborn to turn and allow the gusts to take it where they please. The SUV across the street rumbles to life, unafraid of the slush and snow covering the road like dunes of sand on a far away beach.
Will I find the courage to join this perfect parade? Or shall I hide inside, awaiting calmer conditions?
But what is the use in waiting? There will never be another now, so join me as I go out to embrace this moment of wonder and beauty.
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