Evoking feelings through writing

[Talysia]

This is similar to another thread here - where you have to write a paragraph or two which evokes a sense of enchantment. Writing to evoke feelings is something I always try to aim for, so I thought I'd try starting another little challenge along the same lines.

Pick one of the feelings/emotions from the following list, and write a paragraph or two that could evoke that feeling from the reader. Oh, and make sure you state which feeling/emotion you've chosen to write about.


Foreboding/unease

Tranquility

Sadness

Happiness


I'll try writing one myself, and I'll post it later.

 

[Talysia]

Tranquility


Sun filtered down through the forest canopy to fall in ethereal shafts, one of which fell directly on the left side of my face. It was warm and comfortable, laying there with my arms folded behind my head, as I rested on the soft grass beneath the trees. Birds sang lightly above me, and the wind was gentle enough to only stir the leaves that concealed them. I could faintly hear the sound of a small stream running nearby, too, and I smiled. With nothing to disturb me in this unlikely haven, I moved closer to the edge of sleep.

 

[The Ace]

Foreboding/unease.

The light breeze teased my hair gently, silent above the roaring surf, as the shingle shifted slightly beneath my boots. The sky was cloudless and the sun warm but the feeling in my gut just wouldn't go away. The group of children racing the surf and laughing, calling to each other, seemed perfectly happy too, and yet....

 

[ice.monkey]

Foreboding/unease

There it was again. A creak from upstairs. His heart pounded in his chest and a cold knot in his stomach spread its icy tendrils out to his hands and feet. There had to be someone up there, he thought and the next moment he swore he could hear footfalls above him travelling across the ceiling. He held his breath, straining to hear the slightest sound. A shiver ran down his spine as he crept towards the hallway door. As he reached out to it he heard the bedroom door upstairs creak. He froze, his heart skipping a beat. Footsteps on the stairs, slowly descending, coming closer and closer to the hall door. He backed away towards the fire-place, pulse drumming in his temples, heart hammering against his breastbone. He stopped. Silence. Then agonisingly slowly, the hall door began to open...

Okay, it turned out more to be 'fear', but I got into it and just went with the flow! I'll have another crack at 'foreboding/unease' later.

 

[Saltheart]

Foreboding/Unease:

[FONT=&quot]It was dark, and the big door was open outside, the one for the car. I tried and tried to reach for the door switch but it wouldn't work, and I felt scared that a bad man with a knife or gun might run in through that door like what happened to one of Dad's friend. I left the bowl of food on the ground for the cat and ran back to the babysitter to tell her what happened so she could close it, but when I came back in she was gone. I screamed her name loudly but she didn't respond. I turned off the TV and tried again. Still she didn't respond. Then I noticed the front door was open very, very slightly. She was gone. I was alone.

The cat started creaking and scratching the hallway floor again, and this time roared exactly like a lion. It continued roaring that way, not like a cat at all. I was scared. It started scratching the back door ferociously, like tiger claws. At the same time that was happening something screamed outside the front door. It was loud and scary, like a banshee or a she-devil or a car screeching, like all three put together. And then after that I could hear something outside, something bad and wicked walking the front door, slowly, slowly, slowly, but deadly, deadly, deadly, coming to get me, coming to hurt me.
[/FONT]

 

[Culhwch]

It was hot. Too hot for this time of year. Gina loved it. Her favourite yellow sundress clung to her lithe frame, strands of her thick black hair stuck to her sweat-dappled neck, her arms and legs were rosy - almost, almost, but not quite burnt. A blanket and a book and a sunny spot in the park - that was what days like today were made for. When the shadow fell across her, she didn't look up straight away. Rather, she finished the paragraph she was reading, placed the mockingbird bookmark her mother had given her carefully between the pages, closed the book, and then looked up. He was handsome, in a rough sort of way. Too thin, sure, but she liked the golden brown stubble that lined his jaw, and she really liked the wire-rimmed glasses that framed gentle, grey eyes. 'Hi,' Gina said, smiling.

The man responded with his own smile. 'Hey.' He looked away for a moment, unsure, nervous. Gina definitely liked that. When he looked back he laughed. 'I don't normally do this. I saw you sitting there, and, um. Hmm.' He crouched, so that he was on her level. Gina shaded her eyes with a hand. Closer, there was something about those eyes. Something...

The smile fled from the man's face. His hand snaked out and grabbed Gina's wrist, twisting it so that the book fell to the ground. 'Don't,' his voice was stone-hard, as cold now as his eyes, 'say a word. Don't scream. Don't try and escape. It will only make it worse.' He stood, dragging her to her feet with little effort. Gina half-stumbled at the shock, but he jerked her upright again. She opened her mouth to speak, but he squeezed her wrist until the bones ground together. A tear rolled from the corner of eye. She looked around the park, looked at all the people enjoying the unseasonable warmth. None of them looked her way. None of them seemed to notice. The man pulled her into an embrace. His free hand found the back of her neck, brushing the hair away and pinching at her spine. 'Now we walk. It'll be done soon.'

He released his grip on her neck, but held tight to her wrist. Gina didn't want to walk, didn't want to go with him, but she couldn't resist. Her head spun. She opened her mouth again, but no words came. He half pulled, half pushed at her. She went. With a look back she saw the scattered book, and a mockingbird staring up at her from it's nest on a blanket. She went.

__________________

A little longer than asked for, sorry. And I didn't want to name which I was going for till after - since, in a story, you aren't going to pause for an aside to the reader, telling them what emotion you were going for in the next few paragraphs. If you didn't pick it I went for foreboding/unease, tried to tackle it from an unusual, sunlit/daytime angle. Not sure how well it worked, but an interesting exercise...

 

[littlemissattitude]

Here's my attempt:

He sat for a few minutes in the dark, resting after the long crawl through to the grotto, enjoying the quiet and the dark. Then he found his knapsack, pulled out the flashlight and turned it on. He constructed a torch from parts in the sack, lit it with a wooden match, seated the handle in between two rocks, and switched the flashlight back off. The flickering light made the animal forms painted on the ceiling and walls seem as if they were running, eating, mating, doing all the activities they had done in life. As he watched the familiar forms, he could feel himself begin to relax. While he had not believed for a long time in the spirits he had been taught lived here, the sanctuary still had its magical effect on him. A wave of relief rolled over him, through him, as all the tension drained from his body and mind. He was back. He was home. Now he could make the decisions he knew he had to make, and he knew they would be the correct ones.

 

[Culhwch]

Unexpected and all the better for it, Little Miss. Very well done.

 

[ice.monkey]

He stepped into his office, threw his keys onto the desk and froze. His black leather, swivel chair faced the floor to ceiling glass window looking out over downtown. He never left it like that. Slowly, he took off his raincoat, looking around the room. His phone was at an odd angle, his keyboard was definitely in the wrong place and the monitor glowed onto his black blotter. He knew he'd turned his computer off - he always did when leaving the office.

He hung his coat in its position by the door, not taking his eyes off the screen for a moment, and approached the desk. His chest and shoulders were tense as his mind raced inconclusively through the miriad possibilities. There was no logical reason for his computer to be on, but the evidence was there before him shining onto his desk. He moved next to his chair and gazed at the screen. A new icon sat slam bang in its centre, the arrowed cursor just to its right.

What the hell is going on? he thought, staring at the icon. He had no answer to his own question and could think of no reason why anyone would even want to break into his office. There was nothing of value or import there. Perplexed, he just stood and looked, trying to decide whether to double click on the icon or not. Finally he made his mind up and leant forward, reaching for the mouse. He noticed his hand was trembling ever so slightly and his heart thumped. The mouse was cold as he rested his finger on the left button.

 

[ice.monkey]

A cool sea breeze stirred the palm leaves and cooled his skin. The sun in a perfect blue sky sparkled off the sea lapping gently on the golden sand of the almost empty beach. Birds in the palms sung melodiously to each other as the trees' leaves swished together. His muscles relaxed in the heat, his mind calm, he looked out to the horizon and took a deep breath of sea air.

 

[Talysia]

I'll try another one.

She fell to her knees on the edge of the precipice, her eyes already filling with tears. If only she hadn't left for a moment, maybe - just maybe - she could have helped. Maybe she could have prevented this from happening. But maybes would do her no good, she realised. Nothing she could do would change what had happened.

Shoulders trembling and eyes burning, she rose almost mechanically to her feet. A deep pit of sorrow seemed to open itself up in her stomach, and she wondered what she would do next. What could she do? Fresh waves of sadness hit her like physical blows as she stood there, realizing her loss. Sobbing, her throat tight with grief, she stared blankly into the abyss.


It wasn't quite what I was aiming for, but I hope it's still passable.

 

[ice.monkey]

It wasn't quite what I was aiming for, but I hope it's still passable

It's definitely passable as far as I'm concerned. A good depiction of happiness.

 

[ice.monkey]

Holding the leash in his hands, he stared blankly at the empty bowl on the floor. He hadn't moved for some time; he just sat there with tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. He blinked them away as an image of Mr Jones popped into his mind, sat on his haunches, looking up expectantly as his master made to clip his leash onto his collar.

It was a year to the day since Mr Jones had passed away and he still missed him terribly. He could hold the tears back no longer and he let them flow down his face to drip onto his hands. They say time heals all wounds. They lie.



Okay, just one more to go...

 

[Saltheart]

Sadness:

Everything he believed knew, and everything he believed he didn't, crumbled into each other that instant, a mosaic of horror and disbelief, brighter and duller than his son's face, once radiant with life, now pale with death, two different people; and it left him falling, falling, falling, somewhere into himself, somewhere painful, deep.

The screech of the machine, a single gasp of air, a stillness in the room, his wife's outcry. It was all too radiant, too unreal, too blinding.

Somewhere special.

He felt light, like floating. His wife was calling him, the doctors were lifting him up, he was in shock, falling deeper into the tunnel... but none of it mattered, his son was dead. Dead dead dead, deader than red. Gone. A corpse, to be buried, rotting underground, with the worms. That was its future; that was all that remained... apart from the memories and mementos.

Dad, I got it. I'm going somewhere special. Look dad look. Look. Look. Look. Look. Angry seven year old turning eleven, sick, in bed. You never have time for me. I'm leaving.

He looked. And looked. And looked. Now he did have the time, but "now" was too late. Now his son really did leave. To somewhere he could never go.

 

[Talysia]

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, and she smiled. Outside, a storm was raging, almost seeming to bellow furiously that she was inside and warm, rather than miserable and shivering on its rainy grasp. She paid it no mind. It had been like this since early afternoon, and now that it was late evening it still showed no signs of stopping. She simply ignored it, whistling a cheerful tune as she lit candles around the room.

Another whistle from the hearth filled the air, so she swung the kettle off the flames and carefully poured herself a cup of tea. As long as the weather's like this, she thought, I may as well make the most of it. With a little chuckle, she drew one of the comfortable and well-upholstered armchairs up to the fire and sat down, tucking her legs underneath her. Then, picking up her tea with one hand and her favourite book in the other, she started to read.

 

[ice.monkey]

He could see it playing out in his mind, like a three dimensional film, as his fingers danced over the keyboard to strike the correct keys unerringly. Nothing else existed to him outside of the story in his head and the words appearing on the screen before him.

The final scene unfolded and from mind to fingers, through the keys and his computer, it was transformed into words before him. Words combined into sentences and sentences created paragraphs. The final moment hung in his imagination as he transformed it into letters.

He sat back and a broad grin spread across his face. His eyes danced with life as he acknowledged his accomplishment. God, he loved to write!


(okay, that's me done Talysia!)

 

[Leaf Face]

Dollie was chained up behind the house, and had been for a long time. She didn't have the best memory, unless she was smelling something. She licked her graying leg slowly, as though the freezing, wet air was turning her tongue to ice. She paused, sniffed the air. She got a whiff of children playing and shook her head, sniffing once more. A memory came then, a little girl running through the woods with Dollie at her heels. Sunshine and green, thick trees, chasing, running playing.
The image faded and Dollie laid her head down on the hard, frozen earth, wondering when she would be fed again.

 

[Talysia]

One more from me, and I'll have finished, too.

A stray draught from the window blew out the match he had just struck. Cursing to himself, he fumbled in the darkness for another, only to find that that had been the last one! It was bad enough that the power should go out this late at night, but this was intolerable. Getting up, he went to the window and looked out, wondering how widespread the power cut was, only to find that his was the only house affected.

It must be the fuses, then, he thought, heading for the hallway. As he reached the door, however, he stopped, thinking that he had heard something on the stairs. After a moment or two of listening, he shrugged and carried on to the hall, but he could not shake the feeling that he was not alone. Hurrying now, he reached up to the fusebox, trying so hard to get the lights on as soon as possible that he did not see the shadow behind him.

Whew! That's me done, too. I didn't mean to do all four, but it was enjoyable enough.

 

[ice.monkey]

Whew! That's me done, too. I didn't mean to do all four, but it was enjoyable enough.

I didn't either, but it turned out to be a good break from the story I'm currently writing. Allowed my imagination to roam and write something different. Thanks for the thread.

Leaf Face, no fair! You can write about anything but lonely, suffering animals. Breaks the heart just at the thought of it.

 

[Saltheart]

A little long, but fun. Happiness and tranquility.

Joy. Laughter in the air. A warm yellow light, cozy house. New faces, old faces, hugs, stories. The men in the living room, warming themselves in front of the fire, each holding a warm mug of hot chocolate and sitting with smiles on their faces and backs hunched over towards the speaker, tipping slightly with every laugh and sharing their own. Old men with grays, young men with all shades of the season.

A song in the air, the sound of Christmas, a bustling singer, jingling instrumentals in a catchy melody, booming from the radio under the stairs. A jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock... and Joy to the world, the lord has come....

Ladies in the kitchen crying and exchanging gossip, faces turning intense red as they blushed and smiled, so, so happy to see each other after all these years. Martha, you look so beautiful! Debra, you were just a skinny little child when I last saw you! I can't believe you got married, Chelsea! Grannies and children and grandchildren, almost on the verge of tears, so, so warm and pleasant.... The children running in the backyard, sometimes coming in with snowy white boots to hide in the living room or kitchen, near their daddies and mommies and uncles and aunts who helped them by saying Nope, not here, given away by their giggling. Tag, you're it. Find us find us, hide and seek! The older kids, teenagers, hanging out and showing pictures, exchanging music on MP3 players, playing merry pranks on each other, commenting on their lives. Hahaha! Henry, those glasses make you look like such a nerd! Well at least nerds are smart, Benny boy, afraid I can't repay the compliment! Lisa, that dress is the kicks! Outta sight! Loud chuckling, laughter, a few sips of egg nog and soft drinks.

Somewhere in all this, walking around in a daze and watching the show, Stephanie felt like she belonged somewhere, that she was cared for, was needed. A warm fuzziness crawled up her throat and she felt like crying dolefully. To these people. Her family. Forever. Inseparable. Glued together with some invisible substance so fine and embracing that it could only be called something so simple- and mysterious- and peaceful-sounding as love.