Writing emotion

[Jo Zebedee]

Sorry, busy week, this one dropped off: so, lust and despair. Okey dokey

She walked through the rain, heavy, soaking her right through. Across from her, like deja vu, like she'd been in the scene before, sat the birds. Sassy. Fatter. Like they'd been fed. Twice.

She waited, so wet she it was through to her skin, running in rivulets over her. There was so little time... where was he? She licked a drop of rain from her lips, wishing him here.

And there he was, his coat closed against the rain, his face obscured. He beckoned. She crossed to him.

"You're wet," he said, as if it was an admonishment. Her stomach lurched.

"You're not."

"Make me."

He opened his coat, pulled her to him, and their lips met, rain slick and hard. Her mouth opened, his shirt was wet, too, it was like they were combined, together and the heat ran through her, taking away her worries that it was daytime, that they had so little time. She pushed against him, wanting him, the need through her whole being.

"Here birdy, birdy, birdy..."

He pushed her away. Swore, the soft curse making her stomach somersault. Pulled his coat around him, and left, furtive, embarassed. She watched him go, the rain as tears running down her face, wishing she could follow, knowing she couldn't.

She turned, slowly, her body aching. "Harebrain, five minutes later next time?"

Still, the birds gotta eat.

 

[Grimbear]

The street is empty, and washed with rain the pavements shine in the dark. No windows look down on her, only bare brick walls loud with graffiti. Before she turned the corner there were sounds, but this narrow street is apart and sheltered. Sound is muffled here, hushed. She swallows, feeling the waiting settle on her. The walls breathe, or seem to. As her eyes run over them they rear and swell, rising, the way a chest expands with an intake of air. Between the grey slabs of the pavements, the narrow line of this one-way road glistens like a fat, black snake.

“Here.”

He’s so close, so suddenly, that she starts and her heart thumps. She fumbles the package that’s thrust into her hands.

“F*****ng stupid bitch,” he says as it falls.

She’s on her knees, fumbling in the road, a sob rising in her chest. She knows, she heard it break, but does not want to know. That sound, that fragile, breaking noise was almost musical, a chime. It echoes for her, replaying. She doesn’t know she is crying until she tastes salt on her tongue. Doesn’t know she speaks until she hears her own voice gabbling a pathetic, hopeless prayer. Please, please, please God no please.

The man laughs and walks on.



Probably made a load of grammar errors. Not sure if this is fear or something else. Enjoyed the challenge though. Not sure of the rules about swear words here either. Prefer to write them, but have used asterisks

 

[cailano]

Just stumbled onto this site... first post!

I'll have a go at this, not sure what emotion we're on now... I'll try fear then lust.


She walked down the long, grey street in the falling rain. On the wall across the road, a group of black birds sat, their feathers shining in the moisture, their eyes round and dark. She was as skittish as they, her eyes darting to every shadow, every alley way.

Under the yellow streetlight she stopped and waited. He stepped out of the darkness, his collar drawn up around his face so all she saw was the pale glimmer of his eyes.

Is that him? Please God, don't let it be him.

He stood too close, too tall. She looked up at him and could feel his breath hot on her face. His pale eyes... her blood thinned to have them on her. She was keenly aware of the man's size, his strength. She felt a tiny thing next to him.

"Did you bring it?" She asked, her voice small in her ears. The man's thin lips spread in a grin.

He took the package from his coat and handed it to her. Their fingers touched and she jumped, nearly dropping what he's handed her. She felt the packet -- its dimensions, its temperature -- and slipped it into her bag.

"Nervous?" He asked.

"No."

The smile vanished. The man - it had to be him - pulled his collar to his neck, against the cold that Alex could no longer feel.

"Good. Enjoy your package... Alexandra."

 

[cailano]

Lust:


She walked down the long, grey street in the falling rain. On the wall across the road, a group of black birds sat, their feathers shining in the moisture, their eyes round and dark.

Under the yellow streetlight she stopped and waited. He stepped out of the darkness, his collar drawn up around his face so all she saw was the pale glimmer of his eyes.

"Did you bring it?" She asked.

"Of course I did. Is that all you're going to say then? All business?"

"I... no. I mean, how are you?"

"Wet."

"Me too - I mean..." Alex turned her head away. She hadn't just said that. Please God, let that not have been out loud.

Mark was smiling. No condescension there, just a shared humor that made her smile too.

"We have to stop doing this." Alex said.

"Have to stop doing this, what?"

"Have to... stop... I'm married... we can't..."

"We can't... what?" Mark asked again, stepping closer, his smile fading.

"We can't keep doing this... master."

"That's better."

He took the package from his coat and handed it to her. Their fingers touched, and her skin burned. She felt the packet -- its dimensions, its temperature -- there was something coiled inside it --and slipped it into her bag.

"Is... that a whip?"

Mark narrowed his eyes at her.

"But... the marks on my skin... the lash marks..." Even as she tried to voice her complaint, Alex could feel her legs beginning to shake, her body getting ready for him - her master - to use her. Why was she like this? Why couldn't she just have a bloody normal marriage? Or at least a normal affair?

Mark stepped away from her, and she immediately ached for him to be closer. "I will see you at the hotel. Don't be late."

Alex knew she wouldn't be. She couldn't be.

She was his.

 

[Jo Zebedee]

very nice Grimbear and Cailano. Ni(ce first post(s) and welcome to the chrons.

@Grimbear, I'm pretty sure we're all banned from laughing on this thread. Anyway, I had hard, rain slick lips. I'm laughing at no one.

 

[Grimbear]

Might try lust now - I'm anticipating it'll be a lot harder. No laughing ok?

 

[Grimbear]

Chloe saw where he was waiting, sitting on the grass verge beside a half-ruined wall. She shaded her eyes against the brightness of the sun and walked, hurrying now, her trainers sending up little puffs of dry earth from the path. There was heat on the back of her neck, hot as if she were standing with her back to a roaring fire. Crickets chirped lazily in the tall grass, and a slow breeze stirred the green ferns and grasses.

He had a handful of blackberries, she saw as she reached him. A thick bramble grew against the dry-stone wall, laden with fruit. Some were still small, greens and reds, but as many were darkly ripe. He held out the hand towards her, grinning.

“Want one?”

“Sure,” she said. She smiled too. She sat down next to him and he selected the fattest, sweetest-looking berry.

“Here,” he said. His fingers were smeared with dark-red berry juice. Chloe ate the berries then kissed his hand, tickling the skin of his palm as he laughed. His skin was warm, and tasted salty under the sweetness.

His expression changed then, became more focused, more intent. The smile vanished as he leaned to kiss her. Chloe felt weakened, and yet energised. Her arms trembled, her skin tingling. She shuddered as he kissed her neck, and his warm breath seemed to trickle down her back, tiny electric shocks that travelled the length of her spine.

“Chloe,” he whispered into the skin of her shoulder.

Chloe laughed at how he said it. “Come on, no talking,” she said. His hands were moving over her shirt, under it, dipping under the belt of her jeans.

Then a dog barked and they broke apart, regretful and flushed, as a group of walkers emerged from the trees and moved towards them down the path.

 

[Kickerz]

She hesitated at the corner. One more step and there would be no going back.

Dammit, just go! She stepped forward, and there he was, standing exactly where the voice said he would be, under a dim streetlight. Fingers of icy fear closed around her gut at the sight of his grey trenchcoat, the sight whcih had stalked her nightmares for days.

She forced her legs to move, to fight against every instinct of her being, and cross the street. A small group of black birds parted, almost reluctantly, and she shuffled through them. They regarded her coolly, as if telling her this was their domain. It certainly wasn't hers.

The man pushed the brim of his hat up as she approached, and she gripped the strap of her bag tightly. He's real. They're all real.

"Did you bring it?" she said.

He smiled, but it was like no smile she had ever seen, and handed her the brown paper package. It thrummed in her palm, a sensation that sent a shiver of disgust down her spine. "Oh God," she muttered.

"There is no point in praying," the man said. "He cannot save you now."

Hey guys. I am new here. I just started writing again recently. I am not sure if I know all the rules of this thread, but it seemed like an need challenge. Here was my effort:


Alice's fingers tingled. She could actually feel her heart pumping. As she stepped down from the curb, she gave a quick glance down the road to see if the way was clear. Not really paying attention to what she was seeing, she just took a step and started across the street.

Her mind was racing. Unable to stop thinking about what was about to happen, she wasn't prepared for this. She told herself that she
should not feel like this . The adrennalin flowing through her veins was becomming uncomforable. Its intensity was too strong. This feeling, this moment, it all reminded her of those bewildering times in her past when she managed to finally touch hands with the boys on whom she had a crush. The ones she had waited and flirted with all year in the hopes of winning even small doses of attention. Only this
was stronger than that.

Her palms were sweating. Rubbing her fingers across her lifeline in an attempt to wipe away their wetness, she shook looked ahead. She didn't want to seem as nervous as she felt when she shook his hand. She could not come across like that! As Alice crossed the road, it began to rain. Impervious to the raindrops falling all over her, she carried herself like it was a beautiful summer day. On an old concrete wall across the road, a group of black birds sat. Hungrily awaiting a feast, their feathers reflected indigo highlights scintillating along the line of their wings. They were searching. Like she was. All this time, and now, finally, it was going to happen. It was going to all be worthwhile.

Under a faded green streetlight she stopped and waited. After a brief moment she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She startled. Too excited she thought. In an effort to gain control, she reminded herself "calm down Alice, it is going to all be worthwhile; it is all going to be worthwhile". Repeating the mantra, she forced herself to stand her ground as someone approached from a darkened storefront. The man -at least she thought it was a man- was dressed in dark cloathes and a black jacket. He moved toward her for a few steps, and then hesitated. Looking around in an effort that screamed forced casual; he took a moment to study the avenue. Having reassured himself he moved forward. Drawing up a few steps in front of her, he noded once, and motioned to his pocket.

"Did you bring it?" she asked, almost shouting. The anticipation soaked in her tone, and shecringed internally at the outward display of emotion.

Staring at her without speaking, the dark clad man slowly removed his hand from top down pocket. Slowly twisting his hand to face palm up, he looked at her and stared. It felt he was trying measure her against some unknown rubric. Slowly uncurling cloth gloved fingers, he revealed a small key that had the look of an antique. As she reached for it, she looked up into the strange figure's eyes. He was revealing the key to her only true desire.

I have to do this! I can't believe this is happening. Her thoughts were so loud that she was worried he would hear them. With restraint she did not know she possessed, she slowly put her fingers into his palm. As her fingertips came into contact with the cold metal of the key she felt surge with an a frightening intensity. Slowly closing her fingers around the key, she could feel the beginning of a smile growing at the corner of her cheeks. Just as she thought she had the key curled safely in the pads of her fingers, the man clenched his
fingers and squeezed!

In the distance, a Magpie croaked in excitement. The first worm eaten, it signaled that the feast had begun!

 

[Kickerz]

God, it's beautiful -- the high walls of grey stone, the sudden gleam of rain in the on-and-off sun. I am so glad, so very glad, to be home.

She walked down the road, feeling light -- as if a balloon somewhere under her ribs lifted her with every step -- as if gravity slackened to let her spring upwards -- so, like the yellow-beaked birds watching from the wall, she'd be able to leap into the air and fly.

The thought made her laugh. Made her wish there was someone to share it with -- someone to understand the delirious relief of coming home.

She reached the golden circle of light, stood, staring up at the rain that drifted through the brightness. The messenger's eyes were the same gold, round like an owl's, and she knew that beneath the high collar he was smiling and welcoming her home.

"Did you bring it?"

The package was warm from his body, heavy with promise. Her fingers traced the outline over and over again -- the key, finally. She had the key.

This one was really well done. Easy to read, and it was effective and conveying its feeling!

 

[Hex]

Thanks very much, Kickerz

I liked your one a lot -- especially the way you used the birds. Very effective.

Welcome to the Chrons!

 

[Kickerz]

Thank you!

I just joined up yesterday, and am curious. How active are these forums?

 

[Hex]

I just joined up yesterday, and am curious. How active are these forums?

I'm the wrong person to answer this because I don't have anything to compare them to... You can spend all day here and never get any work done, if that helps?

 

[Dante DiBenedetto]

Fear:

The falling rain trapped her in a shivering fit as she rushed down the long grey street. Shining black feathers ruffled in silence as the large dark eyes of black birds watched her every step.

She paused under the false warmth of a glowing street light just as he emerged from the darkness. The pale glimmer of his eyes was the only hint of humanity she could see through his drawn up collar.

"Did you bring it?"

His arm snaked into his coat as he removed the package. His clammy cold fingers grazed hers when she grabbed it. The dimensions and weight of package were the things that felt right.

 

[Dante DiBenedetto]

edit:

Darn! I can't seem to go back and edit my post for some reason. Apologies for not catching it before I posted. Underlined words are missing words I somehow overlooked. I blame a lack of sleep

The dimensions and weight of package were the things that felt right.

is supposed to be

The dimensions and weight of the package were the only things that felt right.

 

[Abernovo]

I think the cut-off for editing is about 50 minutes, Dante. So, you learnt the lesson of the dangers of posting whilst tired. So many of us have.

 

[Grinnel]

I last saw an emotional request it was joy,so here goes...


She walked down the long, grey street in the falling rain. Neriya felt like skipping, but that would be unseemly for a sorceress, even one so young. She could hear the dancing and singing in the village square a few streets away.

Neriya turned her face to the sky and let the lightly falling rain wash over her. She took in a deep, cooling, moist breath and let it out with a laugh. It was so very much better than the burning desert air of just a few hours ago.

On the wall across the road, a group of black birds sat, their feathers shining in the moisture, their eyes round and dark, accusing. She shrugged one shoulder at them with a smile. “Yes!” she chuckled. “I cast the spell that robbed you! There will be no dead for you to feast on this day!”

Giddy, she kicked a puddle and splashed them. The crows fluttered away with indignant caws. Neriya cawed back at them and laughed. “Maybe next time!”

Prophetic words.

Under the yellow streetglobe she stopped and waited, composing herself. She must display the proper demeanour of a powerful sorceress who had expected success all along. She managed everything but the smile. She could not school her face to stop smiling. The pride of success swelling within her demanded some form of release.

He stepped out of the darkness, his collar drawn up around his face so all she saw was the pale glimmer of his eyes. The village headman was trying to uphold the dignity of his station but was betrayed by glistening tears of joy. She had saved his family, his village, his life.

Neriya drew herself up. "Did you bring it?" She tried to say in an imperious voice. The voice cracked. The headman’s tears had brought some to her own eyes. And the damned smile wouldn’t go away!

Wordlessly, he took the package from his coat and handed it to her, not trusting that his own voice wouldn’t crack. Their fingers touched. He gave hers a grateful squeeze.

She noted contrast between the parchment-like feel of his hands when they clasped to strike the agreement and the warmth and vigour in his grip now.

She felt the packet -- its dimensions, its temperature -- and slipped it into her bag. Seven Drian spheres, all her own! Her dreams were becoming reality almost as fast as she could dream them!