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Cyun

Cyun

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Heat rose in waves to the discordant symphony of the cicadas' chirps. The study vibrated with strange insectoid noise conversing with the Cyrillic spiders inked by his hand. His friend, Ramón Mercader, stood behind him as he wrote.

The Mexican summer of 1940 blushed with sweaty palms and conceived fata morganas of communal utopias in the Coyoacán hills.

He paused.

Winter suddenly splintered into his life. The heat sucked out of the study, radiating from his fractured skull with the seasonal anachronism of an ice pick splattered with hot blood. The window visions dissolved as he crumpled to the floor.

18-Feb-2014 08:43:31

Dyrnwyn
Nov Member 2007

Dyrnwyn

Posts: 1,396 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The Level said :
Me too. :P I forfeit the analysis and withdraw in anticipation of some lovely new entries.
I'll just add something: My initial thought was that the craftsman was Guthix. As far as I recall, he disappeared for quite a while after creating Gielinor (or something like that :P ). // Wordsmith ~ The Novelists' Guild // Viking //

18-Feb-2014 08:47:59

Poller5
Dec Member 2023

Poller5

Posts: 11,421 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Well, a quieter week, but I'm still glad to see people availing themselves of this thread.

Cyun, I missed your entry earlier, and I'll put some comments up later; my brain isn't quite up to analysis right now with this weekend having left my sleeping account deeply in debt, starting with the Canada-USA semifinal at 6 am Saturday and ending at 4 am Monday morning with Canada winning gold. It was thrilling, exhilarating, and amazing, but deeply exhausting, too.

This week's prompt isn't a sentence so much as a theme, with perhaps obvious inspiration:

To all good things comes an end.

25-Feb-2014 03:16:59

Enheduanna
Sep Member 2023

Enheduanna

Posts: 16,566 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
This prompt is literally perfect for what I was just thinking about turning into a story.

EDIT: Except I am having a lot of trouble placing my thoughts upon the page. Hmm...

25-Feb-2014 06:01:53 - Last edited on 25-Feb-2014 06:13:57 by Enheduanna

Enheduanna
Sep Member 2023

Enheduanna

Posts: 16,566 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
“A dying star is beautiful.

Not because it is visually stunning, a glorious, sweeping sunset framed against an infinite canvas – nor because it can be a life-bringer, casting out metals forged in its burning heart to seed the molecular clouds that will eventually form new stars.

No. It’s because it is proof that nothing , no matter how vast or triumphant it is, lasts forever.”

He paused.

“They say all good things come to an end. Once, we made to grant ourselves immortality, and defy this universal law.

We failed.

Because it turns out that death is a good thing, too.”

26-Feb-2014 07:24:24

Chuk

Chuk

Posts: 14,177 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Well, I'm sort of piggy-backing a rather famous author with this one, but it's what came to me when thinking about good things ending.

--

She sat in the corner of a darkened room, reading. An old lamp stuck in the corner behind her gave the only light, its yellow glow spilling across one side of her face and onto the book opened on her lap. She had a few pages left. Reaching the bottom of one, she paused, almost closing the book.

"No," she breathed. A tear started in her eye, shining in the lamplight.

She opened the book again, turned to the last page, and read the end.

"Well I'm back," he said.

The tear trickled down her cheek, but she smiled.

27-Feb-2014 21:37:54 - Last edited on 27-Feb-2014 21:46:31 by Chuk

Poller5
Dec Member 2023

Poller5

Posts: 11,421 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Cyun said :
It's suddenly gone very quiet. A very ambiguous prompt this week, if there were people writing here, there'd probably be a lot of varied pieces.

It's certainly one that makes you think; as much as I came up with it, I really don't know where I'll take it, either.

28-Feb-2014 00:08:00

Chosen Worf

Chosen Worf

Posts: 929 Gold Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The marble had faded.

Only in reality, though. It was still as bright and polished as in its glory days in the mind of the aged man that now caressed it with worn, callused hands. As his eyes traced the spider web of splintering, he thought back to his youth, when he had played in the shadows of the great columns as the sweet smells of roasting meat and incense wafted from beyond ornate doors.

The harsh voice of a soldier rang out, startling him out of his reverie.

With a sigh, he turned, and left the Parthenon behind.

28-Feb-2014 07:34:13

Cyun

Cyun

Posts: 2,389 Mithril Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
It is my thirteenth birthday today.

I wander out into the yolky October sun, and look at the boys and girls swimming separately in the murky lake. Their pale, cold, thin bodies an irrelevancy in the water, while flushed, warm, muscled eels watch with knowing eyes beneath the surface, ready to writhe, or clams that anticipate the opening.

I feel a sense of dread as I spy the scene, as if I know that soon enough, one of them would drown and die and emerge as a monster, with strange weight between their legs or protruding from their chest.

28-Feb-2014 13:59:55 - Last edited on 28-Feb-2014 14:15:33 by Cyun

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