Writing Exercises!

[Zaleramancer]

So, as I'm sure most of you know, I am exceeding lazy when it comes to contributing to anything writing-wise.

I'm hoping to use writing exercises to try and get in the habit of writing something daily, so I can be less literately lazy.

Wish me luck..

Write for at least 10 minutes about a deception, a shop, and a curtain.

-----------------------------------

"Wow. Dude I thought you were joking about how it looked."

I laughed. It wasn't often a new shop opened up in our puny backwater down, much less one like this.

"It look like something decorated for Halloween." My sister Jane said in a jovial voice.

Me, my sister and my best friend Mike stood in front of what looked like the freakish hybrid of a haunted house and a costume shop. Dark windows, cobwebs, weird looking merchandise.. The whole nine yards.

"Wanna go in?" Mike asked teasingly, "Maybe we'll find some demon-possessed puppet or something like from one of those horror moves you love so much."

I tried -and failed- to keep a serious look on my face. "I don't want Jane to get scared." I muttered.

That struck a nerve and my sister exploded with indignation. "That's it! We are going in there now." She snapped before charging the door.

The door creaked eerily as my sister pulled it open. We all entered with slightly less enthusiasm than before- This was a creepy looking place after all. After my eyes adjusted I took in the decor. All around the dimly lit room were shelves filled with.. things. Voodoo dolls, vials filled with weird looking liquids, strange tribal masks and creepy looking puppets covered everything.

"Anyone home?" Mike half-shouted. When no one responded he shrugged and said, "Well, maybe we should look around?"

I nodded and he sauntered off to stare at something floating in a jar. I followed my sister as she walked slowly through some of the shelves. I couldn't help glancing nervously at some of this stuff. The witchy looking doll leering out at me, what looked suspiciously like one of those jars ancient Egyptians used to store mummy organs and.. was that a shrunken head?

"See anything?" I asked, trying to keep a note of nervousness out of my voice.

She shrugged and answered, "I'm starting to have second thoughts. This place gives me the willies. How about we just leave?"

My agreement was interrupted by a sudden dry voice.

"May I help you?"

I swiveled on the spot to see a tall, gaunt man standing behind us. He smiled in an odd sort of way.

"N-no." I said unable to keep my voice steady, "We were just about to-" I was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Mike.

"Dude, I found this awesome looking wooden monkey paw thing and.." He paused, glancing from me to the weird guy, "Who's this?"

"I am the.. purveyor of these fine artifacts. Would you like to purchase something?" He said in a dry and oddly cheerful voice.

Mike nods, seemingly uncertain as to what's going on. We all follow the tall man towards the back of the shop, to where an ancient looking cash-register lay on a table in front of a inky curtain. As the man began to look at what Mike wanted to buy, my friend decided to get curious.

"So, what's behind curtain number one?" He asked jokingly, hoping to ease the atmosphere.

The man stiffened slightly and looked up. With a smile he said, "Nothing at all."

He continued to try and work the cash-register. I eased slightly. This would all be over soon. Then I heard something.

A soft childlike voice. "Hello"

I shook my head, thinking I was hearing things. Then I heard it again.

"What's your name?"

I turned to Jane, eyes asking the question. She nodded nervously and glanced to the curtain.

"My name is Susan."

I interrupted the tall man. "Sir, are you sure there's no one back there?"

Once again, he glance up. "No. There's nothing back there."

Jane began to shift her feet. She wanted to leave. Mike, however, continued to be oblivious. The voice came again.

"I want to meet you." The curtain moved as if someone had brushed by it.

Jane took a step back, eyes wide. I was scarcely better. All those horror movies were rushing back to me in a parade of terror. Even Mike stiffened, seeing the curtain move.

"Y-you're lying." My sister said, finally finding her voice, "There's a girl back there."

The tall man only smiled. A crazy, wild smile.

"My daughter would like to meet you."  He moved to the side of the curtain, pulling it aside.

Behind the curtain.. Behind it was.. A figure in a long white dress.

My sister screamed, Mike began to shout profanities and I felt my stomach lurch.

The girl seemed.. patched together. Build from the parts of many, held together with so many stiches. She had to many arms and to many fingers, all twitching and moving like a plant underwater. Her face was a horrific, covered in switches, and a long mouth, twisted into a smile.

"Wanna play?"

We bolted. All of us. We didn't stop until we were ready to collapse. To this day we have never really talked about what we saw behind the curtain. Mike told me he went back once, to see the shop was gone, replaced by a candy shop run by an old couple.

I know this would seem like such a cliched horror tale, something to laugh off later. The old me would have done this in a second, but now.. I can't.

Because I sometimes hear the girls voice from far off. Asking me to play.

------------------------------------




So I wrote for an hour instead of ten minutes.

How did I do?

[Celadon's Penultimate]

That...that was genuinely creepy.

Like, very creepy.

You should submit it on DeviantArt.

[Zaleramancer]

I was going for creepy. I wasn't sure If I succeeded though..

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Well, you creeped ME the heck out.

And besides, nobody just goes from zero to creepy. I liked the build-up.

[Zaleramancer]

Here's what I used to get the writing exercise.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

That's certainly useful...

Shoot, I should recommend that to some English teacher friends of mine.

[Zaleramancer]

Chaotic Shiny is a nice generator site.

There's also Seventh Sanctum.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

 Hm...fascinating.

I shall add both to my favorites.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

I'ma try this today. It sounds fun, and I've been waiting to try it a while.

[Zaleramancer]

I really should do this again.

But.. me so lazy..

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Yeah, me, too.

But I'll certainly give it a try today some time.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Write for at least 20 minutes about an escape, a drinking glass, and a boot.

"Dammit!" I cursed to myself, picking up speed as best my hurt leg allowed me.

It had been a while since I had been in trouble like this. And why did this always happen to me on weekends? All the way down the road, I cursed my monotonous stupidity when it came to booze and broads.

Thinking back, it would have been a much nicer night had I just stayed home and watched TV. I could have called some buds over; I think a game was on. I could've even went out for a drive, or went to a club, or went to a strip joint or went to sleep like any other sensible guy my age.

Nope, I went to the bar.

And I should've known from the start that it wouldn't end well. Biker Night? Just not my scene. And for that, I cursed my drinking problem again. If I could've got on the damn wagon like Ma had been telling me for some years now, I wouldn't even be in this situation. An occasional drink now and again, she said, maybe a couple at parties. Nope. Not me. That would be far too sensible, and sensible just isn't for me.

Heh-heh-heh....

Sensible wasn't for Layla either.

Damn, she was so smokin' hot in that jean vest; that way-too-tight black mini-tee; those way-too-short jeans and those black leather boots. Flowing blonde hair right above that plump behind, a smile that could make Hercules weak in the knees and eyes green like a four-leaf clover; we met glances and I could tell I was gonna get lucky...

I walked over, smiled a stupid smile, and she giggled before I even said a word. She introduced herself and I introduced myself, and it was like an instant spark. We talked, and joked and laughed and before long, I invited her to come back to my place. Something a little more private, so we could, um...enhance our relationship.

"No, sorry, I don't think so..." she said, "I'm kinda here with someone..."

Yeah, I shoulda took her resistance as a cue. But did I? Guess.

"Oh, relly?" I slurred with a stupid grin, "Well, wut makes yew think I can't take 'em?"

A tap came on my shoulder, and I turned around.

Deep as thunder cam THIS response: "I dunno. CAN YOU?"

So...yeah. Turns out I can't. And it only cost me a couple hundred dollars worth of barroom damage, a couple hundred dollars worth of what promise to be very painful hospital visits, some cups, chairs, people thrown around the room, and a tooth or two missing.

But at least I know now.

I couldn't take 'em...

[Zaleramancer]

I like it.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

 Why, thank you.

I think I'll like using this thread for impromptu writing.

[Sini]

I haven't read those books in ages, but it reminded me of Goosebumps tbh

You could replace R.L. Stine lmao

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Loved the Goosebumps books.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Write at least 600 words about a thwarted plan, a kiss and a letter. Focus on distinguishing characters through dialogue.

"...Hello?"

"Go ahead...I'm here."

"...How has it been? Are you well?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

"It's right to ask, I think."

"Well, don't. You know how I am. How I've been."

"I don't. I'm concerned about you, and what you've been up to. Who you've been seeing, perhaps?"

"...I...I went to see him. I told him I wanted to break it off. I told him I changed my mind about how I felt about him and...that I wanted to break it off with him."

"Finally."

"But--"

"But? What is there to 'but'? You did break it off, didn't you?"

"Well, I did, but...he doesn't seem so easy to let go. *sigh* He never was that type, I should have known. And now he's saying that, if I leave him, he'll tell. He says he'll tell everyone he knows that I came on to him."

"Oh..."

"You know he and I had no business together! And they'd believe his word over mine any day! And I'm not even the one who initiated this whole thing; it was his idea! Damn, I feel so stupid!"

"You're...you're not stupid. You just had to see for yourself. We've all thought of it once or twice, at least."

"Even you?"

"Hehe...especially me. I've had so many like him in the past, I can feel your pain."

"I...it's not the same. I mean, all those letters I sent him weren't for nothing...he made me feel so weak and vulnerable. In a good way, but still. I felt so helpless without him. His smile...his charm...his kiss...his...everything else...He felt like everything I wanted in a lover, like losing him would be the biggest mistake of my life."

"Hehehe....yeah, I know the story. And...I get it. I mean, as much as I can get it, I guess. But, you have to understand. It happens to the best of us. Now all you can do is face up to what happens next."

"Well...maybe I could do that better with you there?"

"Of course you could. I'm wonderful. Now, all we need to do is confront Mr. Big Stuff and get those letters back."

"Oh, no, you...you can't talk to him directly. You know how he feels about you. And me...he probably won't respond well to me, either, right now. I think we should just wait until he goes to work or the gym or his friend's house or something. I still have the key to his place, if he hasn't gotten around to changing the locks by now."

"*sigh* You...you know what? You have to get a hold of your emotions. You need to confront him, and get your letters back, so you can burn them as soon as possible, point blank. I can't just stand around for you to be exposed, and have your name scandalized, for something that's nobody else's business. And if you don't go to confront Jesse, I'll go by myself."

"Vivian!"

"Don't 'Vivian' me! I mean it! Somebody needs to step up to him and show him who's boss."

"But...it may not end well. I mean, Jesse's not exactly respectful of women. Remember? That's why he asked me out. He knew I'd be a pushover."

"You're not a pushover! You...you're just indecisive sometimes. It's what gets you into a lot of your messes. That's why you have me to help you, um...straighten things out...Now, with that said...do you trust me?"

"Yes, of course."

"Do you love me?"

"You know I do..."

"And do you want to be together?"

"...Of course."

"Good. Then it's settled; you know what you have to do. I'll pick you up in thirty minutes. Oh...and Scott...be firm. Stand your ground. What we're doing is for us. Don't let him or anyone else stand in the way."

*click*

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Okay. So, I'm finally inspired to do it. Tell me what you think.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Write for at least 100 words about a thwarted plan, a dream, a closed book, and a businesswoman.

His voice cries out to me from the silence yet again. The darkness looms from across the room.

Solace from the act was not what I sought, and is not what I seek, but perhaps understanding instead. Why has it never been easy? And why is it never reversible? Or maybe, only twice.

But I am certainly in no situation to replicate that experiment.

And it doesn't matter now, anyhow. All that matters now is that what has been done, has been done. The act, complete. My part, his part, their part, all played. Shadows tease me still with mirages that seem to speak. With images that had life and feelings, as I once had life and feelings. In their darkness, I feel enlightened, by umbrageous theophany, just as before.

More sense is made on these blank walls, painted black by the night, than could ever have been made by any scholar. Any philosopher. Any holy man.

And what do they know, anyhow? They had never seen for themselves. They only listened to what they had been told, and so were no better than me. Except I was and am better, because soon, I will have all the proof that I need.

And so with that, I close this book, on the sainted last page. My things will belong to my sister, despite her hand in my downfall. She is all I have left, aside from the darkness.

And this gun.

[Zaleramancer]

Write for at least 100 words about a charm, and a door.

On a hill there is a door of stone, standing among the tall and wild grass. A standing stone standing alone, brethren scattered around it strangled by weeds and by years. A strange place outside of the reach of civilization, away from the lights and noise of town. Unowned and untouched and unclaimed it lies, waiting.

But not unknown.

Childish dares draw those near it. Rumors of hauntings and spirits, of treasure and mystery, of monsters and heroes birth a titanic pull on the minds of youths. Flitting through all the night, new moons and full moons and midnights and sunsets- auspicious times. Always hoping and fearing and laughing. The rumors draw them close.

Years pass, children age. The whispers of yesterday become nothing more than dreams and memories of a more childish time. They forget the pull the door had. It's incredible, pulling charm.

But the children will know it it. Generations have passed around the door.

She watches from the door. Watching her children.