Writing Prompt

To be immortal is to have many, many memories. It was getting hard for Vida to tell the difference anymore. She looked in the mirror as she applied dark, red lipstick, and she fixed her pink, curly hair. There was a red velvet dress on the chair next to her. “Gosh, it looks just like that dress I wore in Paris,” she muttered to herself. Was that Paris? Or London? Was that in 1889 or 2002? And, as ...

*this is the sequel to A Night In James Cook Park*.

I couldn’t stop grinning. I’d been grinning ever since I’d had asked my new favorite person on a second date—and she’d accepted.

I rustled through his closet, smiling like a maniac clown without makeup. I really had to cut this out or else she would never let me be her boyfriend.

I reached up to the box full of ties and selected the most fo...

**_ADON

_**It first started with the tub. Or, really, it started with my mother.

She was lonely. She wanted to get remarried. She didn’t like how dark I was. She didn’t like how people looked at her after knowing she lived in the ghetto.

Sometimes, I could hear her whispering to herself under her breath at night. “Why is my life like this,” she would hiss, “I’m light enough to pass.”

I knew wh...

When you get a Flashback it means like you see something it’s not there. There’s something bring it back to your childhood you could say that’s me your parents your sister so if you need to do anything else like after that was short when you wake up from your flashbacks You can smile and be happy those memories right there will keep you alive...

When you touch the cloth get a flashback of a woman wrapped in it sift and warm dancing in the moon light running in a forest in a field, a fiery damsel in the wild

The velvet started liquefying sleeping and he realised it could’ve been blood or the sadness and weeping of a woman in moarning...

Fresh air filled Zephyr’s lungs, sterilizing the notes of sweat and smoke. She slipped out the back door of the club into an empty back alley. Dim light filtered in from the runic sconces at the far end. Wanting a moment to drink in the silence, she ventured away from the street. It was muffled chaos —the steady reverberation of a bass, the sycophantic screams of debauchery— rather than total qui...

“Emily, you have a visitor!” A plump woman in scrubs almost singed with wide smile on her round face.

The girl didn’t move.

The nurse cooed: “Emily, my dear, let’s sit at the table, okay? I’ll bring some tea and your favourite cookies, how does it sound?”

The girl said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse turned to the visitor at the door. “Emily is catatonic. She never shows any sort of reaction to ex...

Ihre Fingerspitzen strichen über den schimmernden, samtweichen Stoff des Kleides. Er war kühl und geschmeidig, gab sanft unter ihrer Berührung nach. Doch an ihren Händen spürte sie nur Rauheit – harte, vernarbte Haut, gezeichnet von Kämpfen, von Arbeit, von Entbehrung.

Der Stoff erinnerte sie an den Himmel über den Bergen bei den Minen – das sanfte Rosa eines Sonnenaufgangs, das in ein endloses B...

Soft and cool velvet ruched between his fingers. It brought him back to her like a scent, like a cloud of her perfume in passing. She wore simple, practical clothing at all times, but luxuriated in velvet in her bed chamber. Memories of a deep night-blue coverlet of velvet draped over them both, the heat of her skin and the hot smell of their lovemaking in the room, settling like dust. Velvet and ...

Crushed velvet

Remember that night

You dealt it

Then you took flight...