Write about a Picture!

[Ichigo]

Rules
It has to be about the picture provided.
It has to be grammatically correct
All submissions must be put into THIS THREAD
There will be no spam in this thread, not even to say,"Good Job!" If you feel the need to tell the person they did a good job do it via PM or vote for them at the end of two weeks. That is the limit of time you will have to finish up!
Be SERIOUS. Unless it's a joke picture try not to have your story/poem be all nice until all the sudden 42 ninjas come out of nowhere.


Basically this is where we can write stories/poems about a picture. I encourage everyone to try it out, that is why there is no limit to what you can write, it can be short (not too short) or long. But try to not have epic novels that go on and on, and although will be good, hardly anyone would read it so you probably wont win the vote that we will have when the time limit is over.
So I guess that's it, tear it apart guys!;)


Thanks to TNCowgirl for the awesome picture!

http://i205.photobucket.com/albums/bb280/tncowgirl_2007/Landscape.jpg

7 days left!



.

[Empress Artisan]

Ballad of the land

Like golden mist it lands the river
Foggy blankets map the sky
Nothing seen but dots of passion
Of blackened birds passing o’er by

The branches reach like bony arms
They grasp at which cannot be seen
The body rests upon the wood
The moat, oh where can it be?

Among the smoke that rises there?
Upon the land where fallen lie
Through veils of air as thick as lace
The flying wonders sing and cry

Mountains larger than the moon
And stranger than the orbs of doom
They reach to touch a farther part
Cannot they see where land does start?

The beginning ends where moisture starts
Waters like an ocean’s parts
Ripples do not lie, they say
When lonely reflections come to play

The willow whines its soggy prayer
They proclaim its God’s own friar
But what say you, oh child of black
To the shadows do you come back?

It is luck that draws sunshine near
Passing darkness, making jewels
Parting words like lover’s kisses
Whispered curses there are few

In such a place of wonder, glory
Hatred is a folly friend
The gold of morning licks the dewdrops
What does the new morn send?

A haze like smoke that fills the air
Smells like hay and musty wood
Fills the open spaces in the midst
Where they say gods once stood

Draw me wonders like good dreams
Fallow treasons don’t exist
Playful heartache wreaks the canvas
Until the colors do subsist

Where the lark sings mellow tunes
And my heart touches the dune
Tickles toes and itches memories
Plays the ancient, touching rune

And the play of life goes on
Tree frogs are the symphony song
Pleases ears to all who listen
And the fireflies we christened

[Silver Pencil]

The still waters acted like mirrors, reflecting the trees and the shadow of the ducks flying overhead. I climbed down the craggly tree, and walked to the shore. Pulling up my long pants to my ankles, I gently put my feet in the water. The ripples made the reflections dizzy looking, like a bad reception on T.V. The water felt cool on my feet. I stepped out of the water and took off my shirt. A took a step back and ran toward the lake. I jumped-and for a slipt second I was flying.

I was free.

I felt my pointed arms pierce the water, and then my whole body followed. As I flew underwater, I saw paradise. Green seaweed waved back and forth from the waves I made. A school of fish swam toward me, then darted away. Small rocks shimmered in the rising sun. I dove down to the bottom then pushed of with my feet.

I broke the surface, splashing water everywhere. I looked around for the shore I came off of. I found it, then I saw a figure behind the tree, looking at me. It apparently caught me looking at him or her and darted back behind. I swam towards the shore and climbed up on it. I grabbed my shirt off the ground and crept towards the tree. Then I rushed behind the tree and yelled "Aha!"

But no one was there.

Edit: Ichigo, why are some names bold and others aren't?

[CassieCasey]

The mist hung heavily over the bayou, clouding its’ secrets. Only the animals that lived there knew what was hidden within the depths, away from prying eyes. The birds flew to and from their sanctuaries in the early morn to return hours later, homes still shrouded, their young still concealed. The frogs, brightly colored, came to the patches of land to search for food, their main concern in the morning. The flies and mosquitoes, with their incessant buzzing, avoided the frogs and other animals that preyed upon them to the best of their abilities.

As the day wore on, the mist lifted not one bit, desiring all the more to keep the bayou’s secrets to itself as the sun tried to pry them from it. The haze would not give an inch for anything – only it would know everything that ever happened in the bayou and all that ever will happen in the bayou. The sun, being the want-to-be know-it-all, tried day after day to move the haze from this specific bayou. The haze guarding this bayou was bull-headed enough to only let the animals that lived there in on the secrets and the animals weren’t about to tell. Any animal that shared a secret with one that lived outside the bayou met certain death. This had been proven time and time again by the empty-headed and dense that divulged a bayou secret. The deaths were natural looking enough but the others knew better. The bayou had worked its’ magic so the one that divulged the secret and the one that was told were dead so the secret would go no farther. The animals knew not how it was done but it was done every time. They did not even know how the bayou found out about a secret being spread to others.

The unfortunate humans that made their way into the bayou met a swift end. Humans were forbidden beyond the borders of the bayou. The secrets were far too precious and too powerful for simple humans to know. The bayou took care of humans just like it did the animals but the bodies of the humans were hidden within the bayou, declared missing by civilization.

[TNCowgirl]

I slowly followed Ben to where ever he was taking me that was still a mystery. I was blind folded and it was early in the morning.
"I'm going to fall, its so early." I groaned.
"Come on, your gonna love this." He laughed in my ear keeping me moving. One arm was around my waist the other sounded like it was pushing branches away. I felt a few hit me in the back as they kept walking, every time Ben would apologize but I acted like nothing had happened.
"Ben this is taking forever." I decided to take my mind off what was happening and thought about our relationship. I had been dating Ben for about two years now. He was three years older then me and today was my twentieth birthday. We had our arguments like everyone else did, but never was it something we couldn't fix.
I felt Ben slipped his arm from around my waist and placed it on my shoulder.
"Wait here," He whispered. I froze where I was standing and listened to his footsteps fading in the distance. I shifted my weight and sighed, what ever he was up to was really getting me curious. It was about 5:30 in the morning and it would still be dark. The sun was due to come up in five to fifteen minutes. I heard someone walking back towards me and Ben slipped his arm back around my waist and led me on with out saying anything. I trusted he wouldn't run me into any roots or anything so I didn't worry about where I was stepping. "Alright, we're here." He whispered helping me sit down. I felt the ground, there was a blanket, it was made of a rough material. It felt like a wool blanket, possibly the one that he always kept in the back of his car if he ever decided to camp out. I smiled, Ben and I were so much a like. He loved camping as did I, he was great at surprises and I always enjoyed them. I heard some birds chirping in the distance and the shuffling of leaves as Ben walked around.
"Ben, can you please take this blind fold off?" I begged in my sweetest voice.
"That voice isn't going to work tonight, this is too good of a surprise." He laughed from behind me. I groaned which only brought more laughter. I wanted to figure out another way to make him laugh, I loved the sound of it. I could always hear how he felt through his laugh, it was wonderful. His kindness just dripped out of it.
I felt him sit down behind me and he rested his chin on my shoulder; sighing. I felt him wrap his arms around my waist and I squirmed as he tickled me. I heard a lapping of waves against land. I tried to figure out where we were but I just couldn't figure it out.
"So, do you want to see now?" He asked, he was definitely smiling, his voice was full of it. I nodded and felt him each up and untie the blind fold. My eyes slowly adjusted to the light and I gasped. The sun was just barely coming up, they were at a lake. There was fog slowly coming off of it and it was a light orange color. There were birds flying in the air making it look even more beautiful.
"Its...its, beautiful." I whispered not being able to say it any louder. He hugged me and planted a kiss on my neck.
"Yep, isn't it worth all that walking in the dark?" He asked,
"Oh yea, its wonderful." I replied turning around to look at him.
"Just like you." He replied leaning down towards me. I felt his lips touch mine and I was engulfed with happiness, this was a dream come true.



THE END

[Hypocrit]

the convoluted willow tree stands silently
carressing the solid breeze while tickling the stagnant sea
it's halted its onslaught and mellowed the shipwrecks
and layed its somber head to rest upon earths knee

and the earth bears this gulf like a baby
waiting to be born someday waiting to change
the landscape it tantalizingly untouched by human hand
not a scrap of skin nor shrapnel poisons the sand

the sun makes a scene golden black
and the birds sing a song so softly bold, so warm and cold
it touches the sky, and sometimes
makes you want to take it back

and after all our towers crumble
after all our wars are over
after all the ash comes sober
and mixes with the dirt

there will be a tree
the willow by the sea
that stands solid as always
against the mist and breeze

[Ichigo]

The Twilight sky glowed like embers above the small stretch of land. The tide was slowly coming in, as if it were taunting the the plants just above the shoreline. Each wave moved in ever so slightly, almost like they were delicate crystals. If you were to lay in the water for just a minute, and listen to the rhythm of the water, if you were to stare into the sky and watch the thin, silver moon reflected against the sun so you could see each and every intricate detail, you would feel at peace. The inspiring sound of birds singing their complicated anthem reaches your ears The water mirrors their every move as they drift pass the horizon and fade into nothing. The warm light of day turns into glowing pinks, and blue shades of magnificent color, and for a split second, the moment that your in, is everything. Then darkness, but the bright moon is not far behind and the land is once again covered in a awe-inspiring glow. On the very top of the stretch of land there stands a Willow tree. It's aged trunck caught in the light, enhancing the aura of abandonment. The leaves sway silently in the cool breeze, and flutter to the ground below. All is well, until you remember the saying;
If a tree falls and there is no one around to hear it, does it make a noise?

[llama]

I'll edit this later. It will be a story. Ming.

[Ducksworthy]

Just to let y'all know this was added to the "Suggested Reading" thread in Resources

http://www.teenagewriters.com/forum/showthread.php?p=265969#post265969

[JBluver92]

Just before I write my poem for this, I just want to let you know that Ichigo said that I can join in the fun, and would add me into the list.

A Wonderful sight

Sitting across the lake.
listening to the slithering snake.
Oh how I wonder what life would be every night.
thinking that this is a wonderful sight.
Watch the birds go high and high
and watching the mist go by and by
Cold breezes
no one sneezes
thinking that this is a wonderful sight
Sitting under the willow trees
little people looking for the butterflies and the bees
listening to the birds doing their duty call
that is all
thinking that this is a wonderful sight
I take out my paint brush and the paints
thinking of all the passing saints
rushing by the river's edge
praying to God, doing my revenge
Waters are slowing down
the snakes are going back into the ground
Sitting there, knowing that
the earth is clear only breathing slow breaths
and I am...
thinking that this is a wonderful sight

[llama]

And, here's mine:

The burning sunset was a great fire in the sky, setting the mist that floated amid the forests and rivers afire; letting solid objects be seen only as pitch black figures amid the dark orange skies. It was like a highly elaborate Halloween decoration. The leafless trees stood tall, waving in the wind, bending closer to the river where their roots had sunken into. The wind howled around me, my hair flailing wildly about, my eyes squinting against the wall of air flying against me. I hated it. T’was quite a sight, a beautiful thing to witness; a true Kodak moment. Unfortunately, the reason my eyes had been wide was not with awe amazement, and my camera was covered in blood, only containing pictures of the person, no the thing that had been following me. I was soaking in sweat, my shirt and pants, as well as my face, were stained with blood. My black hair had been matted down with said liquids, my brown eyes, well, there was nothing in them. I just thought that, as an author, I should try to include more description.

Oh, I’m so sorry! It’ seems I have forgotten to introduce myself; I am Daniel Hobbs. Unfortunately, this is not quite the best time for me share my likes and dislikes. Back to the tale: Again, I hated the orange skies. My mind was already filled with chaotic panic, pressure that seemed as if it were about to crush my skull. This “lovely” sight only made it more chaotic: it made it seem as if the forest was on fire, the thick fog blocking my view, like there was no escape. I hated it. I wanted to kill it just for being there. Is it possible to kill such things? No. But I was pissed. As well as frightened. As well as pissed.

I stood just beyond a dead forest, the river before me. How can I get across? I could swim, but my equipment (camera, food, survival items... gun) would get wet. I know what your thinking; well, just take the gun and survival items! It’s a forest, you’ll find food! Firstly, it’s a dead forest, and it is not in my interest to eat various insects, monkeys, or myself. Secondly, the gun is an old one I found, that runs on powder. If the gun powder gets wet, I doubt that this thing will wait pleasantly for it to dry. As for survival items (fire blanket, pocket knife, etc.) well, just to heavy. Yes, yes, I am weak. Especially after running and hiding from this thing for three days.

Suddenly, I heard a noise from behind... a low, raspy, cat-like moan... long and slow. I turned my head hesitantly. There, crouching in the edge of the forest, was the thing. It stood in shadow. A black figure, abnormally thin, continuously twitching, making hideous cracking sounds when it moved it’s joints. With it’s long, lanky limbs, it crouched. Now, there were two choices. Into the water... or draw gun. The water would be safer. No! You saw how it can swim, how fast it caught up Jake! Oh, Jake, you were a fantastic friend... Slowly, I arched my back, my brows pressing upon my eyes in anger. Acting as confident as possible, I drew my old-time pistol, aiming it at the thing. And I will avenge your death if it leads to mine. The creature leapt toward me, screeching. As it fell upon me, I saw it’s face: a pale, wrinkled face. No, not a face. No eyes... no nose...

It's "face" was wrinkled, pale with dirt staining it's maggot-like skin. Its shape was wide. The only facial feature, other than two holes on the sides of it's head, most likely ears, was a mouth. The mouth was huge, taking over almost the entire face, save for it's chin and forehead. The mouth stretched to the sides of it's wide head, with black, rotting gums. It's teeth were rotten, sharp needles with some kind of black, thick, sticky liquid dripping from it.

The beast threw itself into me, making me fall on my back into the ground, knocking the wind out of me. As I hit the ground, my pistol fell beside me, just out of my reach. With panic and anger, I held the thing back by it’s neck as it gnashed it’s teeth, continuously clacking them together as it made the odd cackling noises. Frantically, I gripped the dirty ground for my gun...

[Tukmol]

A peaceful place I wanted to see
Where everyone could leave me be
From the harsh world I ran away
To a place like this where I can lay

A very cold and misty land
Its base made of stones and sand
The environment, sad and lonely
The animals and plants goes with the melancholy

But this cold place
Where I can face
All my fears and worries
To slowly grasping happiness




*I hope you like it.... I'm a newbie here...*

[groovy_gal_nat]

Her eyes flickered as the light pierced her pupils. Fighting against the brightness, she forced them to remain open and began to examine her surroundings. A willow tree stood apart from the others. Its body outstretched, branches reaching out as if it wanted to drink from the lake. The world was engulfed by an orange mist. The fog was so thick you could just see the outline of the birds that flew over her derelict body and then circled the water as a plane does a landing strip. One had fallen behind the others, and was struggling to stay with its flock. Alex watched it soaring gracefully and wished that one day; she too could fly away from here.

Forcing her body to take her weight, she began to pace the waters edge, splashing her feet in the few centimeters of water she stood in. She felt the water and sand combined trickle between her toes, which was enough to convince her to retreat back onto the grass. Her hands moistened as they made contact with the dews off the ground. She stared closely, and watched the droplets run down the stem of the plant and into the soil, giving the flower life.

She sat back down and watched the sun rise from behind the hill, flooding the land with light and beauty. Alex forced her mind to recount the night before, and how she had ended up asleep by the lake. As she slowly managed to piece the fragments of her memory together, she wished she could forget it as quickly as she had remembered. She wished she could take back what she’d said, what she’d done, but no amount of wishing could change the past.

Digging around in her pocket she pulled out an old Orange Motorola phone that she’d had since she was 10. It had been a present from her mother, welcoming her back home after she had been missing for 3 days, 7 hours, and 24 minutes. This way, she could never be out of reach again. The screen was illuminated; informing Alex she had 14 missed calls from her father. ‘Perfect,’ she whispered so softly that she could barely hear it, and her lips stayed so still that no-one around could have read them.

Standing, once again, she tied her black hair into a bun tightly up on the top of her head. Her chipped black nail polish looked odd in contrast to the burning red of her skin that sat at the top of her fingers. For some reason, the top parts of her fingers were always red, which made it difficult to find a nail polish that wouldn’t look ridiculous. Maybe it had something to do with her fiery red hair, which had recently been dyed to hide any resemblance to her father. It had been the only thing they still had in common since her mother left, and now she had severed that tie too. She blamed him for her mum leaving. If he hadn’t of cheated, if she hadn’t have found out, if she hadn’t have left, she wouldn’t have been driving, and she wouldn't have crashed. Alex would still have a mother, and for that she hated him.

She pulled off her size 10 jeans, followed by her jumper which had been the only warmth she had through the night. She hung them over the branches of the willow, where she had taken shelter from the rain when she had gotten lost. When she was eventually found with Hypothermia and dehydration Alex, for some reason, believed that that very tree had saved her life. Without its nurturing motherly shelter, she would have frozen to death. Her hand rubbed against its thick branches, following the grooves she tore in the bark when she had scrambled up it. She’d run here that night her mum had found out. She thought that if they had something vital they needed to accomplish together, such as finding their daughter, it might be enough for them to stay together.

Bracing the cold she dived into the lake, feeling the ripples of water rinse over her body from head to toe. Bring her body to the surface for a brief moment she looked at her surroundings as though it was the first time all over again. Taking in the size of the tree she thanked it for its protection and simply wished it could save her again now. Then she slowly released her breath as though it was the pain within her. Her eyes glowed with the same curiosity they did when they first opened that morning before they disappeared under the water with the rest of her.

[FaithStorm]

The world was burning. I stood on the crest of the hill and watched the shallow flatlands of Crespen Valley ache with heat. Birds launched themselves from branches too hot to stay on for long, swinging drunkenly on tender wings. The air was stung, ripe and thick and heavy from the heat waves, from the shadows of the fire that roared on the other side of the hill. I braced myself against a blast of hot air as it tumbled in over the river. It had been coming in as rolls of heat periodically throughout the day. It was no cooler here than it had been further down the river, but I was thankful that evening was setting in. The mixture of the midday sun and the blasting heat of the fire had cut our straggling group of survivors in half. I shifted the weight on my back, which happened to be baby Annabelle, a girl I knew only by name until I fell over her cot running from my home. It had been thrown from her window when the explosion lit up the small row of houses I live on. I had picked her up without thinking, seeing nothing more than smoke pouring from her house. Neither of her parents, none of her brothers and sisters emerged in the five minutes I waited on the road. Over the day I had made a sling for her on my back, finding it easier to have both my hands free. The debris was thick on the ground and my hands were often permanently over my face; protecting my eyes from the light. Orange, like butter and sun and fire and the hair of a marmalade cat all mixed in one. If it hadn’t been coming from the explosion I would have admired it. Now it ached my eyes and I was starting to see double, the corners spotted with black and purple.
As I stood on this part of the hill I could see the mist starting to rise up from the trees. The soil and their roots had been drowned in dust and mist from the mixture of hot air and cold river, and now they lifted on-mass up into the air. The birds were struggling through it.
I thought I saw a speck over on the river, a small dab of black on the otherwise orange and grey scene. Maybe a fisherman trapped out there on his boat. It would be a miraculous survival if that was true. I personally was too pessimistic to think that. I was also too exhausted to care.
I held onto the straps of baby Annabelle’s sling and scuffed my way to the shelter of a tree. I pressed my forehead against the bark, hoping it would be cool but it was as heated as the rest of the earth. Slightly scorched and slowly roasting as red heat settled in and around the blast area. The birds were silent as they flew above; I imagine that at their height the air was too hot to breathe in too regularly. Two tumbled simultaneously from the sky, like soot spat from the fire, arching down towards the river as if on some companionable suicide mission. The birds hit the water but it was too choked with dust to let them submerge; they bobbed and floated on the black sludge and soon their feathers were indistinguishable. I watched them, running my tongue along the upper roof of my mouth. I had nothing left in my mouth other than my teeth - like dusty bones - and my tongue - like sandpaper. Saliva had dried up to the bare minimum, and I was saving our water for a more urgent rest break than this. I reminded myself I was only fifteen minutes away from home. I had to keep moving. Baby Annabelle was stirring and I took it as a good sign as I took the left turn around the edge of the forest down to Cranbeck. I turned back for my parting view of the river.
Orange hued, dusky, desolate, dead, with willow trees clumped like dead hair on various bits of island. The water was black with dust, the air amber with pure heat. I’d played in the river when I was younger; a beautiful place of green and blue, with white wildflowers spotting the banks.
Now though, it bared no resemblance. The explosion had done its deed. My world was burning.

[Common Sense]

Here's my shorter than short story. Hope I beat the deadline.. :sleep:


Secrets. Secrets is what were shrouded in mystery in the bayou of the Old South . Folks around those parts wanted them to disappear and be gone forever. But nature was always willing to spill like the gossipy winds and the incessant pestering heat that played with one’s senses.

Among the many trails leading up to the marshy banks were footprints. The muddy ground had hardened to showcase their imprinted relics. The winds murmured to the dull earth-colored grasses who in turn slumped by the wayside to reveal yet more secrets. On cue, drops of crimson blood appeared on the undergrowth and soon became illuminated by the glowering sun fire.

Further along the trail traveled by many, were the gathering flocks of Cypress giants. Branches wickedly outstretched, sprawled, tantalizing the reverent waters. The area was now vacant except for the stunted branches that laid piously beside their towering fathers. Ashen tips, their soul's long burnt out from the unending summer’s night.

The sun, now dying, hid in defeat behind the Cypresses. The scent of the air turned like the tides. Permeated throughout the air was the smell of rot and disdain.

An unremitting pattern of creaks fragmented the silence from behind one of the roosting Cypress trees. A sinister arm exultingly brandished it’s latest jewelry.

A dilapidated rope dangled mercilessly while a noose upheld a lifeless body of a man. The man’s pleading, glazed eyes sunken into the charcoal like skin. His overalls covered with the fingerprints of malice and irrational hatred.

Mourners dressed in black cawed out as they winged away from the bayou.

[FaithStorm]

Hey. Whens the deadline, because im so confused with all this moving about!!

[llama]

Deadline's 7 days from now.

[Empress Artisan]

No it's one day now.

[llama]

Oh, okay then. Tommorow, when I'll be away on family vacation.

[Empress Artisan]

Aw that sucks. I'm going to miss you.

[Ichigo]

Did no one read the first post?
Jeez.
Ah well.
I need your people's input on this, if we should have a vote or have judges.

[Empress Artisan]

Judgesssssssssssss

[llama]

I like the idea of a vote.

[Empress Artisan]

But then people would vote for their friends

[llama]

Right... yeah, how 'bout some judges? Those sound good.

[Ichigo]

...I love how you like change your mind so abrubtly :rolleyes:

I'll PM the Mods then...
But it's near midnight right now...So this competition will have to be extended a little...

[Hypocrit]

Can we please get another picture up?

[Empress Artisan]

Well we want our results first...

[Hypocrit]

I don't. I just want a writing prompt.

[Empress Artisan]

True enough. We just have to wait till Ichy gets on.

[Ichigo]

...Someone said they would send me another picture but I forget who...

I've PM Imelda about this, but I don't want to make the mods like have to think they HAVE to be judges.

[Ichigo]

So for this one, I think we should do a vote. And then I'll get some judges together.
I'm SO sorry to the people who've entered in this. It's not fair to make you people wait like this as the expiry date has almost doubled what it was meant to be.

[groovy_gal_nat]

its ok - its not your fault! it was just a bit of fun.

[FaithStorm]

So how is this going to work, where do we vote?

[Common Sense]

Well if this one is going nowhere...start another with a different picture so I can have some more inspiration....

[veronicababe99]

I presume anyone can post the picture???

Anyway, here you go;

http://i28.photobucket.com/albums/c214/freak_on_me/other/2169c7dd.jpg

[llama]

OH, AWESOME!!!! THIS PICTURE WILL WORK WELL!!!!!!!! HOOORRRRAAAAAhHHHHH!!!!!

[MHD]

I will edit this post later. Right now, I must feast on my Hershey bar. And I don't wanna muck up my keyboard.

[Ducksworthy]

Leah glanced up at the fences that surrounded her. Crowned with barbed wire, they didn't seem too daunting a task in climbing over - but torn clothing, blood and even chunks of flesh served as a permanant reminder of the price of failure.

She turned and continued her work, putting her captivity to the back of her mind. She'd always found that it helped to consider where she was not to be a prison, but her new home. Her family and home on the outside, everything she had once known was now nothing more than a ruin.

"...Of course I didn't mean it like that but..."

"Oh shut up Liv, you know that this Marx guy's got it right! We've got to work together to build ourselves a better and fairer future, not act selfishly and greedily."

"Calen, don't you even understand what you're saying? The scope for corruption is enormous!"

"Liv, you're just thinkin' the way they want ya to think. I thought you were smarter than that," said Calen, shaking his head disapprovingly.

Livya sighed and carried on with her digging, mouthing words angrily to herself and raising her eyebrows in an infuriated, questioning way.
They were her family now, and they meant everything to her. Livya, so strong and level headed, had always been there when Leah needed her. She protected her and stuck up for her, sometimes far too zealously but Leah knew she was showing she cared in the only way she knew.
Calen was definitely much more volatile than Livya, but the two had a mutual respect that kept them from letting their differences keep them from becoming and staying friends. They really were like two authoritive peers who, although having opposing views on the same subject, relished the chance to attempt to best the other. Perhaps competition was what was keeping the two of them going, Leah mused.

And then there was the other one. Yusef had only recently arrived and yet Leah seemed to feel as much for him as either of the other two. She had seen how his eyes had flickered and, though she thought a touch over-dramatic, it had seemed to her as if something had died inside of him as he learned of what had become of the two men he had come in with.

She understood the way he felt, but could she bring herself to talk about it? She hadn't been able to recount what had happened that day to anyone, the memories still burned painfully in her mind. She brushed her long, brown hair behind her ears, thrust her shovel in to the ground with a mighty heave. She had no choice. She had to talk about it. For him, and for her.

[Isis]

The compound had always been surrounded by tall grass that felt like the desert against your skin and scratched you behind your knees when you weren't looking, and hid the barbed wire in places so you had to remember just where it was or - there - you were caught, and there went the sleeve of your favorite jacket and your Sunday to the stern gaze and matronly punishments of mother.

We always had called it The Compund, like that, like you might say The Queen. I couldn't remember the war, and people didn't talk about it much; but when someone looked like their very liver had been scarred by hate and fire or where the road was still ripped up, I knew. It had been twenty years, almost, but the land still bore open sores, releasing the stench of memory into the air. It hovered in great storms around the edges of the mountains to swoop down suddenly over the valleys where we lived. There were few forests left to swallow them; they had got up and left when the panzer units ground in.

Cacti from the New World grew in great mazes instead, almost as tricky as the barbed wire. At least the moon coyotes and chattering spirits from those rattling sand-traps halfway around the world had not migrated with the plants. It was a close call. New World soldiers were not as suspect of their demons as we've become of ours.

Minski hovered at my shoulder, peering through the barbed wire, and told me all of this -- stories of refugees torn up by the fox-people, their remains scattered in the snow, or of people returning home from the mountains to find that the mountains had moved in.

"But the woods are gone," I said. She pulled her hat tighter over her ears, retying the bright flaps. I pointed at the compound. "They left as this was being built. Anything frightening in there is human, at least."

"That's not saying much." She glowered and rubbed her nose. It turned red. She was too pretty to be allowed, but almost translucent for it. "Besides, I'm still here."

I pretended I didn't hear this; if I said anything later about it, she'd deny it to the end of the world. "Come on, its empty."

"No it isn't. There are ghosts in there. You want me to tell you about them? The one that's been there the longest is the ghost of the man that this land used to belong to. He knew my uncle and was afraid of my mother. There's his son, who's almost become snow by now -- he killed them both before the Hounds could get them, he's got no attachment to this world." She snarled, like she did at the smell of blood, and grabbed my wrist. it burned against the tight cold of her skin. "Then the Hounds that ran the place. They weren't ready to die for the Fatherland."

[Tukmol]

Can I use figures of speech for this?

[veronicababe99]

Yes............

[Makebelieve]

Is there a deadline?

[Tukmol]

So, this is my work
It's kinda short and just worked on it last night...

My heart now is closed
For it is under revival
From a love that has left it
And broke it into pieces

Every piece that’s been returned
Slowly relieves and takes away
The gruesome pain of letting go
And slowly takes away the melancholy

Right now, no one must enter my heart
Because when someone invade it
She will only be hurt
By the thorns surrounding it

When my heart is ready,
It will love again and
Is also ready to be hurt again
To repeat the process of healing oneself

[WishUponAStar]

I don't know whether the competition is still on due to the fact no-one has posted for ages... and also, I only joined today but here's mine anyway...

Natures Beauty

After the wisps of mist left the river,
The swallows returned to lay.
Silhouttes resting still,
As the shadows begin to play.

The golden sun begins to rise,
After the dotted chills of snow.
The willow trees a-whistling along,
While whispers keep to the low.

Mountains fading into fog,
The glow is the final shove.
Finally, showing Natures Beauty,
Setting over like a glove.

[jovialduke]

Are we doing the barbed wire picture now?

[Hypocrit]

This never really... went anywhere.

Good thing too. We shouldn't do scenic things, they bring out the worst in my writing and, judging by the entries, the same in most TWers.

[Tegzz]

Unstickying this as well...

[Ze_Omniwrath]

Ugh... i hate what i've written, but meh, it's something

Damn birds won't let me masturbate

Oh yes we fade
Into that golden background abyss
Where we caught our reflection
The steam dilutes it to silver and
We lose our wallets and our minds in the lake

The willow etches a sketch in your head
I hide with poisoned fish under misty cover

She cries for me with guttural razor wails
But from my soft underwater spy glass
I sit as her thrashing body reverberates past

The golden misted clasp tightens
‘round my throat and I squirm to make it tighter
And I pray for the underwater suffocation
Because the birds are crying to loud for masturbation