This week’s challenge is based on this intriguing picture. I’m unsure how to interpret the piece, but a definite sense of loneliness in this orderly city exists. What the characters are communicating are, to me, ambiguous –but their ambitions and emotions feel explicit.
It’s rather curious, too, in a simple way; what are these figures doing in the dead of the night? What keeps them awake? Expressing this in 100 words is definitely a challenge, but somehow suiting. Continue reading
Sometimes a single word can ignite your imagination. I was extremely inspired by Emma’s amazing post, where the prompt was a simple (yet powerful) word: moon. The night is such a beautiful place to be, with the simplicity of darkness, away from the busy rush of daytime. Be dynamic during the daylight hours before returning to the night: the place of solace.
The following is flash fiction (merely around 200 words) revolving around the moon. I hope you enjoy it. Continue reading
This is a rather personal post, one that’s actually belongs on a personal blog. I’m just reflecting on some of my feelings, in hopes that somebody around the world can also –to some extent or another– connect. It’s really the greatest feeling when your feelings reach others. 🙂 It’s a little bit disjointed, as I haven’t been writing for a while now (!) and it’s currently 11 PM. I should really go to bed.
I was hoping a prompt like this would come up. Too many things have been nostalgic for me lately.
When I was eight years old, I thought I had grown too old. At seven years old, I lived in a comfortable house, went to school (although I didn’t have many friends because of my inability to speak English) and watched reruns of Play School. Life was good; life was simple.
My mother looked at me strange when I confessed, at eight years old, I felt old. I felt as if the last good year had disappeared. I don’t think this is something most eight year olds feel, but that was me.