Writing drills

[Anonymous No.17140757]

Ok anons, rules are simple

>Post pictures and write one or two paragraphs on pictures of your choosing on whatever style fits you
>Writing doesn't need to be absolutely faithful to the contents of the picture, meaning, you can go off from something particular that got your interest
>If you don't feel like writing you can just post pictures you want someone to write on, but writing is preferred since the whole point is to practice and flex on each other

[Anonymous No.17140776]

I'll go first and then post a few starting pictures.

>commuting from his office by foot never bothered him. Gives you time to think, he thought, although he almost never did. A short walk and then left, homeward - like most days since from back when he could fit, and always her hand grabbing his own, accompanying – now alone passing sidelines to that same swing on which he now could no longer. This unspoken rule every children knew by heart (do they still?) that to go inside the park you must cross under - “U” we used to call it, and now you cannot - and never over, arms first body following, flailing wildly in the air after letting go that brilliant entrance that, unmistakingly, settled the size for their right as children for exclusivity of admittance. It was now dark. A silent playground at night can give off a bleak feeling not unlike cemeteries he decided. «No one here now, most of them already home, might as well». He got up from the swing and carried on home trying to remember when did bollards, as words were concerned, came planting their way into him.

[Anonymous No.17140788]

[Anonymous No.17140799]

[Anonymous No.17140825]

[Anonymous No.17140833]

[Anonymous No.17142314]

>>17140757
The cops were banging at my door for a wellness check. Little they knew it should be them having the wellness check.

Ladies and gentlemen it's curtains, time to hang the rag. We all had fun, right? I had a blast and now you’re going to be a part of that blast.

I hung the rope around a pipe and tied the noose around my neck. The rabbit had the launch codes and was busy at work jotting them into that big mainframe, in neverland. Numbers so long that it would give a math professor a boner, Ha!

More and more sirens amassed outside as my countdown began.

“Alright… Alright here we go!”

“All systems go. Hitler did nothing wrong! 1488 Trust the plan!”

“Three clicks of my heels and back home I go!”

“10!”
“9!”
“8!”
“7!’
“6!”
“5!”
“4!”
“3!”
“2!’
“1!”

“Blast off!” and out from under my the chair flew as I kicked and began gagging on my pitiful existence, but fear not ladies and gentlemen! Because as my life was being snuffed out, so was the worlds, as a big white flash blinded my apartment and a deafening boom drowned out my gagging.

And then as I hung, the world together joined with me in one big hanging!

[Anonymous No.17142323]

>>17142314
>Photo didn't save

Apologies.

[Anonymous No.17142339]

>>17140776
hey man, when posting your own prose, it's best not to greentext. readability etc

[Anonymous No.17142461]

PGOAT

[Anonymous No.17142965]

>>17140757
She was trying to figure out what had just happened. Her ankles were placed either side of the toilet bowl, propping her up in an uneasy bipod, and there was semen leaking out of her. Funny thing about that, she was still trying to force her mental gears to mill out just who's baby batter that was, but dissonance, like the bodies of exalted factory workers had thrown upon the cogs and levers, grinding her to a gruesome and hard-won halt. It felt vaguely as if the world had skipped a beat, like her life was a plucky teen sitcom that had gone on commercial break, and that the obvious conclusion was to surf the channels and check back later; something primeval was telling her that tuning in right now was a bad idea. So she waited absently, no crying, no choking sobs. Should she be crying? It felt like the human thing to do, but being human was just no fun anymore. All that was going to come out had left her, so naturally she wiped herself and stood, pulling her jeans back up. As she left the stall she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, something about it made her jaw tighten, her vision got darker as the murky mirror-her stared pinpricks into her veins, sending the blood fleeing through them at an evermore frenzied tempo. She could hear her breathing now, like a hacksaw on handcuffs, loud, insistent, quick, frantic. The furies cursed the air with their presence and made her lungs burn cold. And just as soon as it had started, it was over, couldn't have been more than a minute or two; she got the sense that something had just broken, some fragile instrument she had been calibrating all her life had just been smashed to pieces all over the floor, but that didn't matter so much now. Somehow it was obvious that whatever it was didn't matter, the same way you wouldn't mind the check engine light on a car that was crushed into a neat metal cube like in one of those auto-yards; whatever it was the feedback from it was the problem in the first place, and now the problem was dealt with. She wiped the tears from her face, huh, she did cry after all. She was just about out the door before she stopped.
"Ha."
The hoarse note rang out in the empty bathroom like crystal shattering. She needed to pee.


Based on OPs picture, constructive criticism welcomed.

[Anonymous No.17143435]

>>17140788
It started off as a joke. A funny picture shared between friends, to make one forget the ever-growing woes of this world. A little ha ha to brighten your day, maybe give some inspiration and hope. The nonsensical scribbles of a "politically-active" child. You could see the smirk in the father's eyes, you could see the mix of not-understanding and sincerity in the girl's. Just a joke, man. Noone took it seriously. Not at first, no. It started with the eclipse I think. That was like, what, 3 days later? What were they even protesting, who fucking knows. But it was the eclipse for sure. How that girl and her nonsense markings suddenly showed up in people's dreams. Their dreams! Only she wasn't holding random colourful scratches, but meaningful stuff. That physicist guy, Moldrech or something, he swore it was her who held up his famed formula. I watched his acceptance speech for the nobel, surreal stuff. The way he was sweating profusely, shivering and twitching on the stage. And he talked about nothing else! "it was her" he said. Over and over again. Didn't mention his wife, his faculty or colleagues. Nothing of the sort. She was a prophet that girl, he said. An agent of the most high. Yes, he was the same guy who wrote a foreword for that "god delusion" book just a few years prior. But it wasn't just him that got shook to his core. Everyone felt it. My mother called me 2 days after the eclipse to apologize for neglecting me as a child. I didn't even fucking know she neglected me! All because of that little kid. That little girl, that small joke, that temporary relief from the confusions of the world. Didn't even take long for the theologians to get in on it. "primordial" some called it, "angelic" according to others. Some saw an ancient dialect of Babylon, others saw archaic sanskrit. All the same, everyone had an opinion on what it really meant, on what we were truly fated to understand. That's when the killings started. Kali in the flesh, some revered her. The second coming of the Christ, others vehemently claimed. The despair grew stronger and stronger. More people were illuminated, more people were driven insane, but everyone, not a single soul was left that didn't believe in higher powers. All because of some silly joke, right?
Then, finally, about a year and a half later came the resolution. We were released from our torment. The 26th I think, september. Finally it all made sense. Well, not really but it was better than what came before. That night, we all awoke with its true meaning. Atleast we in the west did. "Fuck China" she said. And so, we went to war. Death and hatred to China, the holy markings proclaimed. Death and hatred to China we gave, and must still give. Do you understand child? We must exterminate the chink! The savior of our world ordered it. To let her down via surrender or defeat, unthinkable that. She gave us back our pride, gave us purpose. True purpose. War, is what those markings had meant. Had always meant.

[Anonymous No.17143487]

>>17142314
Hahaha. It's a good feeling to let out one's emotions like that, isn't it?

Quite alright. Nothing mindblowing but solid prose.

[Anonymous No.17143533]

>>17140757

[Anonymous No.17144829]

>>17140757
Bump

[Anonymous No.17144855]

caaat
cat

[Anonymous No.17144906]

The light of the west window descends into the kitchen, like an overfilled body of liquid taking it's slow wake over the edges of the vessel. It's a symphony of photonic, golden hands, so outstretched to the concept of fluid motion and even more fluid destruction, that it stuns my waking exhale. The air only partially escapes my nose and rather briskly do the phosphenes fade that I realize that my eyes have drifted a few degrees too close to the bright sun outside. My eyelids come together, then apart; for all my curiosity in sungazing these past few days, it's seemed to have descended into my subconscious.

>yes i know it's purple as hell

[Anonymous No.17145039]

>>17140776
Broken wishes, crushed dreams. It hadn't taken long. Or so he'd been told. In truth, he didn't remember anything before indigo hit. That was what most people called it, sure some zealots used names like "True Leprosy" or "the Egyptian Plague" or even really corny shit like "the Great Pestilence" but most rational minded people called it indigo; apparently the American government's department of homeland security had been tasked with coming up with the most effective way to perform a number of different types of attacks, these were categorized by color, the biological warfare category was called indigo. The goal was to assume the enemy had infinite resources and find the most impactful and devastating attack that fit within the category, the nuclear category was called chartreuse and involved launching a glut of low-yield hydrogen missiles at different population centers, water reservoirs, and areas of high-density farmland, using trajectories that were designed to conceal their targets, tending to veer off at the last possible second, making the entire attack one big shuffling deck of cards, no one anti-ballistic missile could effectively protect any one target. But that's not the plan that happened. Admittedly he spent too much time on this stuff, he was a huge nerd, but huge nerd's were valuable in the apocalypse. Too bad he could never play nice with a pack too long. But he was clever, he would obsessively catalog and theory craft upon any hint of weakness in any of his comrades, so that when they eventually got sick of him, which they always did, he could dismantle them in that way only a teammate could manage. He was starting to wonder if he was the predator or the prey, but no answer came.

Bored, might come back to this, feel free to continue where I left off.

[Anonymous No.17146515]

>>17140757
Hey OP, have you ever heard about or posted on a nanonymous internet forum called "nano channel"

[Anonymous No.17147032]

>>17146515
No, never heard of it, why do you ask