Writing exercise 172

Hello everybody!

Was your week tiresome? Maybe this little writing exercise will help you relax. The drabble was prompted by a member of the Dead Pete Society again. Here it is:

2019/03/30 – Bath (Drabble)

Utterly exhausted you enter the bathroom, your most comfortable pyjamas in hand for laters. You sit down on the rim of the bath tub and turn on the hot water. Your tired gaze wanders over the bottles of bath supplements until you randomly pick the dark blue liquid and pour some into the running water. Instantly a pleasant flowery smell evaporates into the air as bubbles form on the surface of the water. You sigh, already starting to relax. Taking off your sweaty clothes you slide into the water, lean back and close your eyes. You have earned this. Enjoy!

Writing exercise 171

Hi!

Another week has gone by, and the weather still isn't any better. But fear not, I have a haiku for you, prompted by a member of the Dead Pete Society.

2019/03/20 – Day at the Beach (Haiku)

Sunshine and ocean

Isn't this what we dream of?

A day at the beach

Writing exercise 170

Hello again!

Has it really been 170 weeks already? :O
Today I have a German sonnet for you, prompted by a member of the Dead Pete Society again.
Here it is:

2019/03/12 – First Kiss (German sonnet)

First kiss the morning goodbye

In your throat grows a lump

Into the world to take the jump

Yet you leap with a curious eye

Next bid the afternoon farewell

You have played together all day

Until there's nothing left to say

Enjoyed the stories to tell

And when the evening falls

And the nightingale calls

You lay down in your bed

Dream of the morning bliss

Of another bittersweet first kiss

And not a single tear be shed

Writing Exercise 169

Hello!

I'm still working on the prompts a member of the Dead Pete Society gave me, so have another drabble this week! :D

2019/03/06 – Fireworks (Drabble)

Merry chatter and music playing around you; happy people crowd the place, shoulder to shoulder the throng of visitors sways painfully slowly forward. Somehow you manage to find some space off to the side, filling a gap where you can finally breathe. A little forlornly you stare into the sky. It is dark, yet you can hardly see the stars. Suddenly all lights wink out; the music stops and a murmur tides through the crowd like a wave. A bang. The people let out a collective noise as colours flit across the sky, twinkling, blinking, raining down. Finally, the fireworks.

Writing Exercise 168

Good morning!

Today's prompt was again requested by a member of the Daed Pete Society, and it made me think about big things that started out small...
Here is what I thought:

 

2019/02/26 – First Time (free verse)

First Time

Came into existence

The universe unfolded

With a bang

And expanded at an increasing pace

Forming stars and galaxies

That flew into the growing space

All things made from matter

In a Circle of

Evolution

Revolution

Convolution

Life and Death

Revolving around black holes

Where no one knows

Why no one knows

How no one knows

Time dies

And maybe starts again

With another Big Bang

Writing Exercise 167

Hey there!

This week I was prompted by a member of the Daed Pete Society again, so I wrote a double drabble for you this time. Here it is:

2019/02/19 – Power outage (double drabble)

The day is fine. You are in a good mood, energized and full of plans. So you get to work and maybe tinker about various projects. You are in the flow...

And right in the middle of it you suddenly drop what you were holding; it slips right through your fingers. It might have caught you off guard or surprised you and you reach to pick it up again, yet you can't lift it any more no matter if it was something as lightweight as your smartphone. Smacked down by imperial exhaustion you sink to the ground, drained of all strength, the energy you wielded seconds ago – gone!

Barely you crawl towards the sofa and heave your leaden body onto it. There you lie motionless, unable to move, while your mind races on overdrive, fully capable and awake. Yet your body refuses to do a single thing. Time ticks by, maybe an hour or two when you are trapped helplessly in a useless body. If you are lucky, you are able to doze.

But just as suddenly it is gone again, your energies revert full force and you feel like a million dollars again. Fatigue is like a power outage.

Writing Exercise 166

Hello!

This time I have been prompted by a member of the Dead Pete Society again so I wrote a poem for you. Here it is:

2019/02/11 – From behind (poem)

From behind a window screen

I marvel at what my eyes have seen

Snow had fallen just last night

Today harsh hail joins the fight

From behind a desk so nice

It is easy to give advice:

Stay inside; the storm is strong

Twirls snowflakes in a howling song

From behind a blanket's embrace

You don't feel the cold on your face

Dreaming of the buds of spring

When dorbeetles fly and birds sing

Writing Exercise 165

Good morning!

Another week is here, and so is a new writing exercise prompted by my dear writing buddy from the Dead Pete Society. This time I wrote a Tanka:

2019/02/06 – La Dorada (Tanka)

The golden city

Where everything has a price

In gold – even rice

Greed drips from their hungry eyes

Would you sell your soul for gold?

Writing Exercise 164

Hey there!

This week I'm a little late again. But I still have a writing exercise for you, which was prompted by a member of the Dead Pete Society again. Here it is:

2019/02/03 – Coffee Shop (Drabble)

In a quaint little town close to where I live there is a small coffee shop. It is the loveliest coffee shop I've ever clapped eyes on. Once you enter you feel as if you were in a doll's house with its distinctive furniture; the sofas, chairs and armchairs are soft and cozy nonetheless, and miniature teasets decorate the tables. The handmade cakes are made with love and you can taste it. Breakfast is served on decorated étagères and the rich coffee flavour melts in your mouth with every sip. Just enjoy that coffee and soak in the peaceful atmosphere.

Writing Exercise 163

Hello there!

This week I was prompted by someone from the 'Dead Pete Society' again, so here is my poem on something you likely use for more things than you think:

2019/01/23 – Fingers (poem)

Snap them

To the beat

Tap them

On repeat

Clap them

If you like the feat

Wrap them

When you do the deed

Flap them

As you feel the heat

Nimble fingers

Are so neat

Appreciate

What they create

Writing Exercise 152

Good morning!

Lets start the week with a writing exercise instead of ending it with one, shall we? This sonnet was also prompted by my dear writing buddy from the Dead Pete Society. Enjoy!

2018/11/05 – Dry Spell (German sonnet)

In a world of wonders and magic

Where everyone wielded a power or two

You might think it cannot be true

But something happened quite tragic

When everyone basked in their strength

Suddenly our hero failed a spell

His magic gone – he couldn't tell!

But went to get it back at great length

During adventures to gain what was lost

He attained a cursed artifact at great cost

Activated it so the deed be done

A blinding light emerged from his hands

Hit everyone everywhere all over the lands

And from then on all the magic was gone

Writing Exercise 151

Hello there!

I just realised I haven't done my writing exercise yet. NaNoWriMo kept me busy half of the week. :D
So here is a double drabble prompted ba my dear writing buddy from the Dead Pete Society:

2018/11/04 – A Dance Amongst Shadows (double drabble)

Warily he eyed the merry crowd, people dressed up in their most splendid robes, frolicking and dancing to the fine music in the ball room. Ah, how he loathed such social events, how he despised the oblivious and ignorant people who pretened to have a good time gossipping, drinking, dancing… Alas, he had to attend, and so he did. A glass of heavy wine kept him company as he kept his distance and observed with contempt.

Until a beautiful lady appeared before him and smiled up at him. “Mylord,” she breathed, a halo of flowery perfume around her, “you seem a bit bored. May I try to lift your mood during this dance?” She held out her slender hand for him to take. He blinked, just as perplexed as wary. She used his moment of hesitation to take the glass from his hand, put it away and drag him towards the dance floor. Before he knew it, she was in his arms swaying to the music.

It was not like he couldn't dance, he just preferred not to. He seriously considered ditching her for he rather danced amongst shadows than make a fool of himself here. So he left, disgusted.

Writing Exercise 112

This week I started early. So I already have a new exercise for you. :)
This double drabble is another prompt my a member of the Dead Pete Society. Enjoy!

2018/01/29 – “I swear there was a body in this coffin. You have to help me find it!” (double drabble)

“I swear there was a body in this coffin. You have to help me find it!” a protagonist in an old movie exclaims as he agitatedly wrings his hands. How I have ended up watching this movie I'll never know. But these are the wondrous ways of youtube. I remember looking for the stunning soundtrack to an anime I watched a while ago. And as I click through the suggestions at the sidebar I see so many different things. Somewhere in between playthrough videos of games I might want to play and breathtakingly beautiful speed draw recordings, which I can only gape at in awe, I watch an old Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing scene and remember how much I liked to dance... And now I'm somehow rapt in a rather comical funeral story about this disappeared corpse. As I watch the characters stumble through the search of the body all the while trying to cover up the mess, I shake my head at myself. That movie is totally not what I had come for and yet I find myself watching it. Indeed, you never know where you end up browsing youtube. It's always a fun, but weird journey.

Writing Exercise 111

Today I have another writing exercise for you. Again I was prompted by a member of the Dead Pete Society, but this time I chose to write a drabble.
Here it is: 

2018/01/28 – You’ve always wondered why your brother was never in your family photos; today you found out why (drabble)

Saya liked to look at photos. They always looked fun, as if the people in them had a good time.

But she had always wondered why her brother Lyr was never in her family photos. There were photos of her parents, of her grandparents, of her aunts and uncles and cousins, but never him. Even in the more recent photos – those of her as a baby – Lyr was never to be seen. But finally today was the day when she found out why!

“Now look into the camera and smile,” Lyr said. It was him who took all the photos.

Writing Exercise 110

110 writing exercises already! Time sure flew by fast.
This week I was prompted by a member of the Dead Pete Society, but it took me all week to complete the prompt. Here it is:

2018/01/21 – Write about someone you hate who is in love with you

On a remote island, far from any civilisation, there lived a savage tribe. Their village was situated at the shore, a neat cluster of stilt houses. Most of the inhabitants were fishermen. Every morning they sailed with their little cockleshells to the nearby reef to fish. Zath was one of them. Even before sunrise he would get up, load his net and sail to his favourite fishing spot.

But he was not alone there. Every day he would try to outdo his neighbour Leann as they squabbled over who caught the biggest or most fish. Their rivalry dated to their youth, and they hated each other with a passion. Not one day passed when they wouldn't at least throw insults. It hadn't always been like that. Zath remembered a time when they had played together as kids, when they were inseparable and the best of friends. But somewhere sometime something had gone terribly awry. Yet Zath couldn't even remember the trigger incident of their broken friendship. He wondered if Leann did. But it mattered not. There was no way back now. Their fronts were hardened, their words bitter and spiteful.

But they wouldn't go as far as messing with their boats or nets; they were honourable fishermen. So Zath trusted Leann when he suddenly shouted: “Sharks! Pull in your net!” And while he hauled in the load of thrashing fish he heard a splash. Zath turned around. Leann's boat rocked back and forth on the waves. But where was Leann?

A shadow glided beneath Zath's boat. Without a second thought Zath grabbed his spear and jumped into the cool water, dove and searched for Leann. He saw three sharks lurking about and circling, and between them there drifted his rival. With two, three strong strokes Zath hurried there and thrust his spear at the sharks to shoo them away from Leann's body. A cloud of red surrounded the body and Zath didn't know how much longer he could fend off the sharks. He had to get the both of them out of there immediately! So he grabbed Leann by the midriff and dragged him to the surface, where he perceive the hulk of his boat. And once they broke through the surface and Zath drew in huge gulps of air he hauled Leann's body into his boat then climbed after him. Panting hard he lay on the planks. Then he remembered the blood.

“Leann! You alright?” He heaved himself up and examined the body. There was so much blood and Zath could see Leann had several bite marks; chunks of meat were missing. “Leann! Stay with me. I'll get you to our shaman as fast as I can,” he promised and was about to trim the sail when Leann grabbed his arm and groaned. “Zath,” he rasped, “never mind. We're too far out, aren't we? You won't make it… I… won't make it.” Zath shook his head, looked back to the small black dots at the horizon where their village lay. Leann was probably right, but he didn't want to acknowledge that.

Leann tugged at his arm until he grasped his hand and squeezed it. “Listen, man, let me...let me say this at least for once in my life,” Leann murmured laboriously, “you know, I never really hated you, Zath. The truth is… the truth is I love you. Always have.” Zath's eyes went wide with disbelief. “What?!” he exclaimed. This couldn't be true, could it? Zath was shocked. Leann closed his eyes, smiling, never to open them again.

As Zath sailed home as fast as he could, the body of his rival tucked between the planks and the net full of fish, his mind was in utter turmoil. There was so much left unsaid, so much said which couldn't be undone. But most of all he was upset and confused by Leann's last words. For years he'd thought Leann hated him. Yet, whatever he would have answered if he ever figured out what he felt for his rival, his long lost friend, it would remain unheard. And there would hardly be any closure to the rift between them.

Writing Exercise 095

This week's writing exercise is a less serious one. I was prompted by my dear writing buddy Frankie, and this is the drabble I came up with:

2017/10/02 – My dog just started talking to me, and he's not pleased. (Drabble)

I had a weird dream. I was walking through a dark, foreign city and I was lost. Somehow I ended up in a park. As I passed the trees I noticed someone was following me. Scared as hell I walked faster until I met a dead end at a lake. So I turned around to face whoever was following me. From the underbush a dog emerged and it growled. Although I don't have pets I knew this was mine. “Where the hell have you been?” the dog exclaimed, “I've been looking for you. Let's go home.” Utterly puzzled I woke.

Announcement

It's on a pretty short notice, but I have something to tell you. :D

Tomorrow I'm going to have an author's slot at my dear writing buddy Frankie's release party for her novel "Emergence".
In this author's slot I get to celebrate with my friend, talk about my works and do a reading of a short story from my yet unreleased third volume of my "Untold Stories of Neverbeen Universe" short story collections.

The event starts at 6:30 p.m. CET and my author's slot starts at 8:15 p.m. CET.
Here's the link to Frankie's Facebook, as the party will be held online.

Don't miss it and celebrate with us! :D

Something Different...

Finally, after all these weeks I am able to show you something different than my weekly writing exercises. :D

As some of my dear writing buddies from the Dead Pete Society and I have decided to play a D&D campaign together I got to create a character just for that campaign.
Our group consists of D&D beginners though; our dungeon mistress has never mastered before, the players have either never played pen&paper RPGs at all or haven't played in ages (earlier versions of D&D) or -- like me -- have only experience in different p&p RPGs.

For those, who know D&D, I play the lawful neutral Razorclaw Shifter fighter Aira Hild. And for those, who don't, you can still see how she looks like as I drew her with Sai:

 

As you can see, I only did the outlines as I was too lazy to colour her.  XD But there will be another picture in the near future, which I might colour.

Anyway, this is going to be fun! And once everyone has set up their characters we can let the dice roll. :D

Writing Exercise 066

My dear writing buddy Sam from the Dead Pete Society is responsible for this week's writing exercise. She posted a prompt, and I instantly took it and did with it what you are about to read. You will see, this little story is greatly influenced by one of our day trips while we were in Japan.
So here goes:

 

2017/03/16 – "They thought I would forget. But I remembered. Everything."

Sitting in a rocking chair on the porch she enjoyed the soothing warmth of the late summer sun, sipping on some iced tea and fanning herself with yesterday's newspaper with her good hand. The old radio beside her on the small table played a happy tune. The grass had turned brown due to the lack of rain and the leaves stirred in the light breeze. She peered at the cloudless sky as the weather forecast promised a summer rain in the evening.

The afterthought of a smile faded in the many wrinkles around her mouth. Rain. She remembered the feel of the rain on her skin; even decades later she saw every tiny detail before her mind's eye. Her life had changed so much, but still the image, the noises and smells of this one incident were so very vivid as if engraved in stone or captured in a black and white photo or family stories told for generations.

But photos turned so easily to ashes when set aflame, stone crumbled to rubble in the face of a destructive force beyond comparison, generations of people were winked out in a single blinding flash that made earth the embodiment of hell. Distinctive clouds heralding nothing but death in their wake, an explosion with a destructive force never seen before, the stench of charred black flesh, fatal damage done on a cellular level, a whole city of buildings blasted to dust, the wails of agony of those who survived the blast. And hours later came the rain – the black rain.

She had been but a child back then, innocent, never understood what hit her when it did. She lost everything on that day – everything but her raw life. Surprisingly she had sustained the mother of all explosions, the black rain, the long-term aftermath of radiation, and she continued to do so.

But she would always walk the Earth with her eyes turned skyward, her mind tuned to the many gods in the hope one might hear her prayers for peace to remain and the black rain to stay away. For, even if younger generations became oblivious to the inhumanity and destructive force of war, she still remembered. Everything.

Writing Exercise 054

The Dead Pete Society decided to write Christmas stories about Santa and the reindeer. Except we joked about Rudolph being a crack-nosed pimp, Santa being the horny bodyguard and the other reindeer being hoes. You can imagine how absurd and funny the conversation was! XD
Anyway, every member of the Dead Pete Society picked two of them and committed to write a story. My choice were Santa and Dunder. So prepare for a very different Christmas five times drabble. :o

2015/12/22 – Christmas story about Dunder, the hoe, and Santa, the bodyguard, for the Dead Pete Society (5 x Drabble)

It was Christmas time and like every other year the show was about to start. Santa, the nitwitted bodyguard, readied the sleigh, with which pimp Rudolph paraded his eight hoes around the world. Dunder was one of them. He was the heaviest of the lot and wagged his meaty butt as he scurried after the others. Santa, being also on the heavier side, was ogling him again and as Dunder passed him he couldn't resist and slapped him on the back.

„Ho-ho-hoe,“ he stuttered and grinned like an idiot. He hardly said anything else, but with this intonation it meant he was horny as a unicorn.

„Not when I'm at work,“ he whispered back and shot a quick glance to the front, while Rudolph sniffed his red nose and handed out the straps. Dunder waddled into line and took his place beside Blitzen. Nervously he licked his lips and tried to fasten the XL garter belts he was supposed to wear to his costume bra and fancy panties.

Santa came to check on them and when he reached Dunder he took his time to squeeze his feisty butt again. „Ho-ho-hoe,“ he let out happily while Dunder only harrumphed and rolled his eyes. It was always the same with him.

He just couldn't keep his hands to himself when they were readying themselves for the show. That was the problem with a man only coming once a year; his bag was loaded to the brim and once the world tour was done and all the candy sticks were distributed Santa would sneak into the ladies' stables and hump every butt that stood erect. Especially Dunder's if he was not with a punter.

Because Dunder was like his name - dumb. And dumb people were good fucks, they say. At least Santa was of that opinion, and since he wasn't the brightest light himself they made quite a pair. Secretly of course, for the pimp would surely charge their bodyguard if he knew Santa was dicking around the stables.

So Dunder now shooed Santa away, who grunted and sat inside the sleigh. „Ho-ho-hoe,“ he counted and guarded the bag with the toys. Like every other year he then was allowed to crack the whip and the ladies stalked ahead, heads held high and flaunting their cleavages and butts to the clients all over the world.

As they were getting into the mood Santa grinned and waved dumbly at the people salivating after the eight hoes. „Ho-ho-hoe,“ he advertised and Rudolph approved of his work. Dunder in the meantime was doing his dance in sync with the others. Sometimes he imagined they were doing the samba at carnival in Rio when they paraded and so he shook his ass extra sexily; the crowds loved it. So from town to town they toured and beneath the cracking of Santa's whip Dunder jingled all the bells he had. It was as thrilling as it was arousing. But this was their way of saying „Merry Christmas!“