Write a blog post in 300 words or less, excluding the title. The post can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should show:that it’s morning,I didn't include the extra words, but I think I more or less covered everything else.
Just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: "synbatec," "wastopaneer," and "tacise." (NB. these words are completely made up and are not intended to have any meaning other than the one you give them).
- that it's morning
- that a man or a woman (or both) is at the beach
- that the MC (main character) is bored
- that something stinks behind where he/she is sitting
- that something surprising happens.
The sun peeked over the edge of the horizon, shedding a dark glow across the sea and highlighting the roiling bubbles in amber. The steam rose from the boiling water in dense clouds of gold that coalesced on the angel's straggly hair in tiny shiny beads. His hair was dirty blond both in color as well as the fact that he hadn't washed it in an unhygienic amount of time.
He'd been strolling barefoot over the black obsidian sand since midnight, long enough to see the sea begin to shimmer and bubble as it built with the onslaught of daylight into a full-blown boil. Every inch of the angel's skin glistened with sweat and condensation. The scent of honey thickened the steamy air so that the angel could hardly breathe—and then a whiff of sulfur made him glance over his shoulder.
"What-ho," said the angel. "If it ain't my old mate Illi! How've you been?"
"Shut up, May," said Illi, peeling out of the shadow of a sickly bush: twigs turning into pearly claws, branches becoming arms, stunted leaves lengthening into a cloak of smoke and ash. "I'm here to claim your soul, you son of a bitch."
"You come all this way out to the Sea of Nightmares just for li'l ol' me?" clucked May, putting his hands to his face. "I'm flattered, love. Really."
Illi's fingers twisted together to form a twirling point like a unicorn horn, and he lunged in a smoky whirl. His long thin arm whipped back and then forward.
May looked down at the ivory spiral stabbed through the center of his chest.
"That ain't no way to kill an angel, mate," said May, grinning into Illi's face. "'Specially as there's those who say angels ain't got no souls."
There's mine, and Krispy is working on hers even now as I write up this post. She will post it on Friday. Have you done any writing prompts/exercises lately?
P.S. Tomorrow, we're the featured ninjas at ali cross's writing dojo! We'd be much obliged if you gave it a looksie. We'll post a link to the actual post on Thursday.