Until further notice, I will be working on a Revamp of a personal project, and will NOT be posting anything on this blog.
Also, the challenge is still on and I WILL be writing, so don't worry.
Watch this space for updates.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
#007: Actually Doing a Prompt! (Placeholder: I)
A man sits at a desk in this city, pouring over maps and charts.
Bleh. Shea here. I don't know what I'm doing today, I'm just not feeling it. Ugh. Not a lot of time either. Tomorrow maybe. Write more eventually. Anyway, this is scrapped.
"Hey! Watch what you say."
Okay... what? This is new.
"You'd be offended if I said you were uninteresting."
Who are you?
"I'm not sure yet. 'Man At Desk,' for now. And I think you're giving up on this too easily."
Oh, because you know so much. I'm not feeling the story, and I'm not going to let the character, of all people, tell me what to do.
"Well Mr. Author-so-I'll-do-what-I-want, you know what it's like to have your story stopped? It's terrible, there's a sense of... of unresolved tension!"
How would you know, I still haven't scrapped the story!
"I know from experience. I've been in around 14 pseudo-stories at this point. I'm the guy you drop in whenever you haven't come up with an idea yet. I'm the Placeholder."
~~
Actual Shea here. Wish I could write more, but I am officially out of time. Perhaps tomorrow.
And if anyone has something they think I should write, you should TELL me. I'm at u/sheapm, balzagorath.tumblr.com, sheapm@gmail.com.
Monday, January 6, 2014
#006: Skating. (The Party: I)
You don't think something like that is going to happen at a skating rink. I mean you wouldn't think it would normally, but really not at a skating rink.
~Micah
The sun was bright, the air was cool, and they were on their way to a party. The drive was short, and they were prepared for a simple day of skating. The first car to arrive was Micah's, with his two passengers, Amelia and Emma. They pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. As they walked to the front doors, Emma stopped suddenly.
"Is something wrong?" Amelia asked.
"No," Emma responded, hesitantly, "nothing's wrong." She began walking again, but slower. She muttered something under her breath, before repeating it.
"What's that?" Micah asked.
"De... decapitat... decapitation."
I really don't have a lot of time to write today, so this is going to have to be it. It's over 100 words, so I'm fine right? Right.
#005: Gates. (Danielle: I)
Danielle's eyes snapped open, and she immediately began to panic. She was not in her room. In fact, she didn't know where she way. The first thing that caught her eye was the bed she was laying on. Or, to be more specific, the bars around the bed she was lying on. They formed a cage around the bed. Luckily, the gate on one side was open, and she got out.
She looked at the cage and wondered whether it was to keep her in, or to keep something else out.
Looking around the rest of the room, she found nothing else interesting. Aside from the bars, there was nothing out of the ordinary about the room. There was only one door leading out of the room. Opening it, Danielle found herself in a hallway. The hallway was furnished strangely, like it was a few decades earlier than Danielle know, or at least thought it was.
She looked at the cage and wondered whether it was to keep her in, or to keep something else out.
Looking around the rest of the room, she found nothing else interesting. Aside from the bars, there was nothing out of the ordinary about the room. There was only one door leading out of the room. Opening it, Danielle found herself in a hallway. The hallway was furnished strangely, like it was a few decades earlier than Danielle know, or at least thought it was.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
#004: Noises. (Documents: I)
To: michaelwilliams@gmail.com
From: katjohnson@gmail.com
Subject: Weird Noise
I was wondering if you knew about that weird noise that happens every night? It started around... tuesday I think. Sounds like rhythmic thumping. Any info is helpful!
Thanks,
Kat
---------
To: katjohnson@gmail.com
From: michaelwilliams@gmail.com
Subject: RE: Weird Noise
Don't know what you're talking about, no sound audible here. When does it happen?
Michael
---------
To: michaelwilliams@gmail.com
From: katjohnson@gmail.com
Subject: RE: Weird Noise
It's really loud, I thought it would have been obvious. Happens around 10PM. I'll ask someone else.
------------
5032895211: Hey Susan, what are you doing?
5031357789: Nothing much, just being home. Is something going on?
5032895211: I was going to ask if you wanted to come over. I have something I need to ask you.
5031357789: Is everything okay? I'll be over soon.
Friday, January 3, 2014
#003: Clearings (The Forest: III)
To be entirely honest, I'm not sure why everyone hates this forest so much. From what I can tell, nothing strange happens here. Everyone must either be incredibly superstitious or just plain wrong. I would check for odd things, if I knew what everyone was worried about. That's the thing, no one will tell me what is supposedly "wrong" about the forest. The closest I've gotten to an answer from anyone is a terse, "well you should know all about it anyway."
Sometimes I regret moving here. Not that I had much of a choice.
~~
A crack suddenly shot through the forest. Samantha looked up, startled. Another crack sounded. And another. They were coming regularly, like a beat, or like footsteps. As she was gathering all her things and preparing to leave, Samantha saw a figure appear in the trees at the edge of the clearing. It looked like a woman, wearing a long cloak, which was gently blowing in the wind.
"Hello!" the woman called. "Are you Samantha?"
Samantha was hesitant. "Yes? Who are you?"
"Someone who has something to say. Come here, won't you?"
Alarm bells went off in Samantha's mind, followed quickly by justifications. She wanted to know more about this person in the forest. She thought she was the only one that would even get close to the place. Had this person always been here, or was she new? Samantha stood up and made her way across the clearing.
Sometimes I regret moving here. Not that I had much of a choice.
~~
A crack suddenly shot through the forest. Samantha looked up, startled. Another crack sounded. And another. They were coming regularly, like a beat, or like footsteps. As she was gathering all her things and preparing to leave, Samantha saw a figure appear in the trees at the edge of the clearing. It looked like a woman, wearing a long cloak, which was gently blowing in the wind.
"Hello!" the woman called. "Are you Samantha?"
Samantha was hesitant. "Yes? Who are you?"
"Someone who has something to say. Come here, won't you?"
Alarm bells went off in Samantha's mind, followed quickly by justifications. She wanted to know more about this person in the forest. She thought she was the only one that would even get close to the place. Had this person always been here, or was she new? Samantha stood up and made her way across the clearing.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
#002: Libraries (The Forest: II)
Margaret stopped me again today at work. Apparently another person filed a complaint about me, can't imagine who that would have been. Apparently she went to Ilsa this time, some story about me refusing to help her or something. To be honest, I wouldn't help her if I thought I could get away with it. Maybe next time. Not that she accepts my help anyway, even though I try.
~~
Samantha was writing at homer this time, she didn't have time to go to the forest. She had other plans. The library was due for inventory, and that job, of course, fell to her. It was as if she was the only worker there, not one of four. The only thing she didn't do was check out books; if she did, no one would let her help them anyway. Not that the others could do what she did. Samantha would be surprised to learn that they knew what a book is, given their knowledge of the library. She had tried, at first, to teach them. That lasted about a week before she realized they were never going to listen to her, no matter what she said. So, she was left with all the actual work, and they were left to scan stickers with red lights.
~~
Samantha was writing at homer this time, she didn't have time to go to the forest. She had other plans. The library was due for inventory, and that job, of course, fell to her. It was as if she was the only worker there, not one of four. The only thing she didn't do was check out books; if she did, no one would let her help them anyway. Not that the others could do what she did. Samantha would be surprised to learn that they knew what a book is, given their knowledge of the library. She had tried, at first, to teach them. That lasted about a week before she realized they were never going to listen to her, no matter what she said. So, she was left with all the actual work, and they were left to scan stickers with red lights.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
#001: Beginnings (The Forest: I)
Most people think, when they hear the word, of New Years, of Septembers, of projects. I think of an old wall in a forest, slowly crumbling through time as if it had been there always. Looking back, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that it had.
When I found it, I was walking through the woods, along familiar paths. My house was close by, and the forest was a favorite spot reflect or just get away from the rest of the world. Impulsively, I turned away from the path and ventured into the forest. I did this sometimes, when i had a particularly stressful day, or if I needed more time. It would, so I would think, calm me more to be more in nature. In reality, it just caused more stress, as I would eventually get lost and worry that I was never going to get out; not good after a long day. Still, the next time I would think the same thing, and it would lead to the same result. Maybe I'm just not good at learning from my mistakes.
~~
Samantha looked up from her journal, the pen hovering over the next space. She never finished writing an entry in her journal, instead she decided she would "come back to it later" and put it aside. She didn't like endings. Slowly, dejectedly, she got up from her spot against the wall and began to make her way back home, knowing another time in the forest was ending.
She made it back to her house, avoiding her neighbors looks on the street. She knew why they were looking at her strangely; she had come from the forest. The town believed that the forest was haunted. People didn't mention the forest in public, and going in was out of the question. Samantha hadn't known this when she had moved to the small town of Montrey. She had taken a short walk, and become the outcast of the town. She just accepted it and realized that she would never be disturbed in the forest.
In fact, the cause of most of the stressful days that led her to the forest was the people trying to keep her away from it.
It would always start the same way, with hatred from the other person, and it would always end the same way, with Samantha being too angry to do anything. She had never seen anything in the forest, and it frustrated her that no one else would even budge on their view. The closest thing she had to a friend in the town was her boss, and that was only because she would leave if he brought it up. She worked at the library in town, and it was obvious to everyone that the building would probably be in rubble if she left. For this reason, and this reason alone, they tolerated her.
Samantha had considered leaving the town many times, but something always held her back. Part of it was spite for the people of the town, but part was simply the forest. If she left, who knows if she could find another place like it. A place all to herself.
There was no way she was leaving.
When I found it, I was walking through the woods, along familiar paths. My house was close by, and the forest was a favorite spot reflect or just get away from the rest of the world. Impulsively, I turned away from the path and ventured into the forest. I did this sometimes, when i had a particularly stressful day, or if I needed more time. It would, so I would think, calm me more to be more in nature. In reality, it just caused more stress, as I would eventually get lost and worry that I was never going to get out; not good after a long day. Still, the next time I would think the same thing, and it would lead to the same result. Maybe I'm just not good at learning from my mistakes.
~~
Samantha looked up from her journal, the pen hovering over the next space. She never finished writing an entry in her journal, instead she decided she would "come back to it later" and put it aside. She didn't like endings. Slowly, dejectedly, she got up from her spot against the wall and began to make her way back home, knowing another time in the forest was ending.
She made it back to her house, avoiding her neighbors looks on the street. She knew why they were looking at her strangely; she had come from the forest. The town believed that the forest was haunted. People didn't mention the forest in public, and going in was out of the question. Samantha hadn't known this when she had moved to the small town of Montrey. She had taken a short walk, and become the outcast of the town. She just accepted it and realized that she would never be disturbed in the forest.
In fact, the cause of most of the stressful days that led her to the forest was the people trying to keep her away from it.
It would always start the same way, with hatred from the other person, and it would always end the same way, with Samantha being too angry to do anything. She had never seen anything in the forest, and it frustrated her that no one else would even budge on their view. The closest thing she had to a friend in the town was her boss, and that was only because she would leave if he brought it up. She worked at the library in town, and it was obvious to everyone that the building would probably be in rubble if she left. For this reason, and this reason alone, they tolerated her.
Samantha had considered leaving the town many times, but something always held her back. Part of it was spite for the people of the town, but part was simply the forest. If she left, who knows if she could find another place like it. A place all to herself.
There was no way she was leaving.
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