Mark suddenly felt nervous. He had been waiting for this moment his whole life.Read More
Feathers floating to the floor always makes me think of magic, so I had no choice other than to put a magical bent on the exercise response below.
Malia accidentally dropped the wicker basket on the ground causing the feathers within to stir in the air. “Wonderful,” she said sarcastically as she watched the beautiful white plumes gracefully float to the floor. Slowly spinning around, she assessed whether anyone else was in view, but she was alone. Malia then closed her eyes and started to chant, her words quiet and invoking the power of the wind. The feathers began to rise and whirled around, gently settling back into their proper place. Malia straightened her skirts and picked the basket back up, whistling all the way back home.
When donkeys and criminals end up together, all I can think about is the old west and that something must have gone wrong.
Rickie and Jax were riding down the dusty road as quickly as possible, “Is this really the best you could do?” Jax gestured to the donkey he was now riding. “I mean, we’re criminals,” he blurted out with exasperation.
“Well, then the next time you get yourself arrested by the sheriff, make sure you don’t gamble away our horses first!” Rickie yelled back.
“Honestly, I don’t know why you’re the leader of our gang,” he muttered under his breath.
The words shade and mirror just begged to be used in magic.
The prophecy will be revealed when you look in the mirror under the shade of the great tree.
Dimitri had to admit that he was getting a little tired of these cryptic riddles. If the gods wanted him to save all the land from evil, being a bit more helpful was they least they could do. He sighed. Getting upset wouldn’t help the situation, so he took a few deep breaths. Dimitri pulled the ancient map out of the purse he had “acquired” and laid it on the rickety table. Somewhere on this wrinkled paper marred with water stains was the location of this tree and he had to find it, no matter the cost.
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I contributed the word “grim” for this writing exercise and all of our stories took a rather dire turn. It was great fun to see how a word influenced everyone’s thoughts.
The hot flame danced and flickered as it was pushed and pulled by the cool breeze. Its movements captivated me and I could not look away. It felt as if I was falling into the orange and yellow light, my mind unable to escape. Images began to unfold before me. A woman with long dark hair was holding a glass filled with a purple liquid. The look on her face filled with grief. Then the image changed to a village filled with people falling to the ground. One old man, whose face was wrinkled by his years of labor, reached out to me. I strained to go to him, but could not. With a start, I was pulled back into the present, Sam having slapped my hand away before I had reached into the fire. His expression was grim. He knew that whatever I had seen, was coming our way.
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We had five minutes to incorporate the below three words into a story. Portal was my favorite word in this batch. It always makes me think of a doorway to another world.
I went into my private rooms clad in lush velvet against the stone walls and moved toward the center where a small pond was set in the floor. It would grant me my freedom from the chains that currently bind me. As I approached, a cool wind came through the window and disturbed its stillness. Bending over to look, the water shimmered and dissolved revealing a portal that looked in upon a world plush with green and the bloom of yellow and violet flowers. For years, its image beckoned me, but my fear of the unknown and my responsibilities to the Clave had kept me captive, but no longer. The Clave has pushed me too far and tonight I make my escape. Kneeling down I raised my hands in prayer and called forth the power of the earth to allow my passage through.
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