Old man Jones clutched the monkey bars and slowly lifted his torn boots into the humid August air. His back pleaded for mercy, his torso screamed uncle and yet he held on all the tighter, until he heard the distinctive crack. The little circus stunt sent shockwaves down his crippled spine and he released before the blue veins in his knuckles exploded through his skin.
He took the cane resting on the park bench and continued down the lonely road to his empty home. Exhaustion overtook his soul, his kneecaps wracked with pain. Jones lifted his head and smiled anyway.
Current Prompt: write a descriptive piece about being utterly drained, tired, exhausted. In 100 words of course
The home radiated indulgence and affluence was evident in all four corners of the ridiculously sized palace. She stood in front of an oval mirror in the massive dining hall and watched other guests flirt and mingle in the reflection. She cast her eyes upon the treasures and glanced quickly to her left before slipping a small, gold plated picture frame into her handbag.
This epicurean hussy and her tax evading, crook of a husband won’t miss a thing. She pondered her decision and felt comfortable stealing from the rich. She walked towards a bar and ordered a dry martini. Current Prompt: Epicurean
The word epicurean developed out of the philosophy of Epicurus (c. 341–c. 270 BCE) and while it has now come to mean either a person who delights in worldly, sensual pleasures, or as an adjective, having luxurious tastes and habits, the original philosophy was very much about the discipline of moderation.
I stood among thousands of angry rioters with fire laced in the veins of their eyes. They hurled rocks and razed small buildings to the ground with a viciousness only seen in the empty stare of a dog with rabies. The rebel leader pumped round after round of shotgun shells into the air and the crowd responded with renewed enthusiasm. Crime was rampant along every avenue and alleyway. There was no reasoning with the mob. They reminded me of zombies without souls, hatred fueled by propaganda and ignited by ignorance. I ran towards home to rescue my beloved from madness.
Current Prompt: Rebel
The poor man with kind eyes observed strangers hurrying back and forth with steaming trays. He could only imagine what the volunteers had concocted inside the massive kitchen on the opposite side of the house. The aroma had crawled through the cracks in the walls and permeated his nostrils, reminding him of times past, memories filled with laughter and friendships, a time before he knew the pang of hunger and the sorrow of homelessness. He tilted a pitcher of water to refill his cup when a man touched his shoulder.
“Welcome brother, taste and see the goodness of the Lord.”
Current Prompt: Hurrying
Sunlight turned the oak leaves into gleaming emeralds. Its massive trunk had withstood the violent thunderstorm last night because its decade old roots had tunneled for miles unseen beneath us, taking hold of the ground as if in desperation, as if waiting on some phenomenon to take place which humans cannot see nor touch, but only feel deep in their souls like a glowing flame, kindled by wind, stoked by the breath of God. Ancient limbs swagger back and forth sending thousands of lustrous green stones into a nightmarish dance. I walk along its path hesitantly, without looking up again.
Current Prompt: Swagger
The smell of perfume lingered only for a moment before the cold breeze stole it from under my nose. It was soft, like a rose petal after a gentle rain, mixed with a sweet berry I could not place. The memory of her sunk deep in my belly, invigorating every sense a human being was created to experience and yet I push forward, knowing this too shall pass. This memory, this dream which may have been a figment of a wanting heart, fades slowly towards oblivion. Destiny awaits me down a road less traveled, arise and go forth young man.
Current Prompt: Invigorating
Reflecting streams of sunlight caused the book before me to glow with an unearthly brilliance one cannot fully describe unless one was present to observe the leather and papyrus for themselves. My life bled from the ancient pages lying within. How this novel came to exist perplexed me but I read on, sometimes smiling, mostly melancholy. Many sheets remained blank due to my own cowardice and poverty and yet I continue forth on this journey, making sure I find life and all the goodness one hopes to encounter down unknown roads. As we walk the recorder is on, remain courageous.
Current Prompt: Reflecting
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