Writing Prompt

She knows she is characterised by displeasing textures.

Her demeanour has been derived from an origin of melodic laughter, crooked nails and crippling waves of thoughts. She likes to entertain herself with the belief that her outward projection represents a sanguine yellow, but she knows it resembles a muddy orange.

Perhaps this image of her is a product of her playful hair. It spirals out of a...

When someone you love is taken away so suddenly, you try to remember every last beautiful detail of who they were.

I close my eyes to breath and calmly try to hold back my tears.

What I think of first; her laugh. God, that ridiculous laugh. When she thought something was absolutely hilarious, she would start her laugh off with a guttural “Huh-“ and end it with a witch cackle like nails on a ch...

Trixie is a fireball of a girl - a careering clump of fire and gas, whipping flames too hot to touch, spiralling too fast to catch. Trixie is chaos.

But Trixie is also brilliance. Writing spoken word with a crumpled rollie hanging from her bitten, peeling lips. Dry curls of tobacco peaking from the end until she lights them with a practiced, calloused thumb and a plastic, neon lighter. Inhaling t...

He was like the desert. Not in the romantic colors of flaming sunsets, but in the bleached skies of high noon. His was not golden-sand skin, but worn leather, smooth and creased. His lips were dry and cracked like the parched earth beneath his feet.

He wore the day like a cloak, his shoulders hunched with the familiar weight of its heat, wrapped in the coarse fibers of windswept sand. At night, h...

It’s somewhat confusing how disarming her smile is and how quickly one can forget to articulate himself the moment she laughs. Her eyes innocent and wide behind those clear narrow-rimmed glasses.

She had short hair, a dark and gracious frame for her silken face tinted with florid cheeks. Subtlety was her charm and great humility adorned her so that one would seem almost reticent to approach her a...

i’ve never reacted this way, to one of these kinds of creatures before. i mean, a Black female?! i swear, in all of my thirty years, i can honestly say i’ve never felt this way.

Brad’s form fitting, tailored blue suit, was bulging at the seems. he discreetly adjusted himself, successfully, without gaining the attention of other patrons in the coffee shop.

he adjusted his combover, just so, in o...

We traveled along the old mining trail, now a highway, through the rugged, granite mountains to the old mining town. In front of the once blue wood-planked hotel, where rumor had it Old Doc Holiday once lived and died, he sat.

Old miners’ boots, traces of years of old mud and years’ worn. Turned up cuffs on the faded blue denim jeans, waste-high, with a cracked, black leather belt holding in the ...

I fingered my cold, smooth, golden necklace and pulled the charm around front. I feel the engraved heart on it and tug for it to straighten out. I run my hands down the long, soft fabric of my sky blue dress. I straighten it out and fluff out my blonde curls. I walk out of the bathroom and find my seat at the awards ceremony that is more like a party. A tall, tan man with soft hair the color of sy...

Her hair was tangle-free and layered. When fingers ran through it, hair would slide right through them. Her skin was relatively smooth, acne free. Her clothes were normally flowy, and reminded her of frolicking through flower fields whenever she wore them. Her voice and actions were always soft and smooth, never harsh or rough towards anything. The words she would use were like honey, soothing to ...

My name is Laine, i have been blind since i was 3 years old because of a simple accident. I learned how to read and spell by learning braille. Even though i cannot see i feel the world through my hands. I feel the textures of blankets, clothes, soap and flowers. I can even imagine what people look like by feeling their face and hair. I even know how to put on makeup by the size and feeling of the ...