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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

A Challenge


Savage Dragon

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I very recently began a short story and within just a few lines i realized i had written myself into a corner. See if you can realize my problem before I reveal it after the first part of my story.

 

I once knew a man who could talk only with his hands.

 

Now I don't mean to say that through his hands he made his point known through gesture or signs. No, for this man to communicate with his fellow living beings he merely had to place a hand on them and they're feelings would exchange. It was communication at its most basic. No silly misunderstandings over complicated things like tone or grammar. There was never an instance where his words were too difficult for anyone nor too simple. His exact meaning was conveyed every time, with no misrepresentations and no barriers. And I shall never forget that man. Not because of his odd method of conversation, the world has seen far stranger things than a man who could talk only with hands. I will remember him because when we parted, he took my hand in his and told me that he loved me. .....

Take a moment and think about it. Do you see my problem?

 

 

 

 

How on earth was I supposed to share in words a feeling which I just defined as a feeling beyond words? I'm stuck and after giving it a lot of thought and time, I still have no idea how I would finish this story.

 

So instead I challenge you, yes you reading this now you've already read it so you might as well give it a try, to see if you can come up with a suitable ending. Even if you don't come out with a perfect ending, which i highly suspect no one will, at least post your best attempt so we can all decide which one sounds the best, even if it doesn't fit perfectly. It doesn't have to be long, just write it

Edited by Savage Dragon
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consider "beyond words" hyperbole, and describe to the best of fragile communications to the non-touched the beauty of such a transcendent feeling. The incredible *knowing* of love, without doubt, without wondering if it is manipulation, without anything but to enlarge the heart to receive such a gift. Feeling the love seeking out and finding each hidden fear of being unworthy of such a feeling, and soothing it with acceptance.

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Either you could list some of the failed metaphors and then write in an overt sentence about how those metaphors were inadequate, or you can describe the effects as Peredhil did and not the emotion directly. If you're feeling cheeky, declare that there are no words known in the language to describe such emotion, and then invent one or two nonsense words; let context carry the meaning. Be very careful with that last option, though, and include enough concrete adjectives that you can't be summed up as "doubleplus cromulent".*

 

*This is much funnier because of the highbrow culture juxtaposed with the pop culture.

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Or, you could just do it the easy way, and NOT try to explain how you can say in words what is beyond them...just write it anyway! The attempt of writers to discribe what is undiscribable, is what writing is really all about. If you don't want to use a sentence or a 'spoken' phrase to discribe the feeling of this communication, then you could try to say it by discribing the emotion that is felt...

:)

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  • 2 weeks later...

Wyvern snorts as he gulps the last contents of his Bruteweiser canister over in his little Cabaret corner, chugging it down feverishly and letting some of the beverage trickle down the sides of his scaly cheeks. The overgrown lizard turns and belches a few flames out of harm's way (though not property damage's way), then shakes his head at the various pennites and guffaws.

 

"Naw naw naw, you folksss've got it all wrong." Wyvern hobbles his way past Vigil and Peredhil, and almost gets his tail stinger caught on the corner of Harmony's flowing dress as he halts next to Savage Dragon. "Lisssshten, Sssshavage, there'sh only one proper way to end this shtory and you know it! Thankfully, I've taken the liberty to write it here for ya."

 

Wyvern hands Savage Dragon an extremely messy beer napkin loaded with words scrawled in a messy almost dragonic hand. A few "Decipher Caligraphy" and "Amend Grammar" spells later, and the document becomes clear enough for Savage Dragon to read.

 

"... I stared back at him, and kindly told him 'Sorry. While I respect your feelings, I don't swing that way.' To which he replied 'You cad! I challenge you to a duel!' and slapped me. Fortunately, he slapped me with a white gentlemen's glove he happened to be carrying rather than his hand, which would have surely caused emotional devastation upon impact. Heck, even a raised middle finger on his part could have probably evoked enough anger to burst a blood vessel. But no, just a pathetic flimsy glove on his part. Well, I responded to his action as any sensible man looking to maintain their pride would, and slapped him back with an Almost Dragonic Brand Spiked Iron Gentlemen's Glove™. As he fell to the ground wailing, I yelled at the top of my lungs 'who's communicating with their hands now?! Huh?!? Who's the man?!' I couldn't understand what he said through the whimpers, but I'm pretty sure he acknowledged my superiority at that point. That's why I never leave home without my Almost Dragonic Brand Spiked Iron Gentlemen's Glove™ - it's splendifiriticulous fantabuloquacious. Oh yeah, and I severed the guy's hand and sold it for a kajillion geld and lived happily ever after. Th'end."

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I once knew a man who could talk only with his hands.

 

Now I don't mean to say that through his hands he made his point known through gesture or signs. No, for this man to communicate with his fellow living beings he merely had to place a hand on them and they're feelings would exchange. It was communication at its most basic. No silly misunderstandings over complicated things like tone or grammar. There was never an instance where his words were too difficult for anyone nor too simple. His exact meaning was conveyed every time, with no misrepresentations and no barriers. And I shall never forget that man. Not because of his odd method of conversation, the world has seen far stranger things than a man who could talk only with hands. I will remember him because when we parted, he took my hand in his and told me that he loved me. .....

I waved goodbye as he left, and he made me smile in spite of myself by turning and waving a last "hello". He turned away, and I watched him go until he disappeared from view.

 

I stood there watching his path for a long time before I too finally took my leave, as I did, noticing people around me clenching their fists as they passed, people snapping their fingers, people cracking their knuckles, people jabbing pointer and middle fingers at each other, and I watched this for a long time too.

 

The next man I passed, I stopped, and held out my hand to. His face did many things in a very short span of time. Then he took my hand and shook it firmly.

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I once knew a man who could talk only with his hands.

 

Now I don't mean to say that through his hands he made his point known through gesture or signs. No, for this man to communicate with his fellow living beings he merely had to place a hand on them and they're feelings would exchange. It was communication at its most basic. No silly misunderstandings over complicated things like tone or grammar. There was never an instance where his words were too difficult for anyone nor too simple. His exact meaning was conveyed every time, with no misrepresentations and no barriers. And I shall never forget that man. Not because of his odd method of conversation, the world has seen far stranger things than a man who could talk only with hands. I will remember him because when we parted, he took my hand in his and told me that he loved me. .....

I never saw him again after that, but I still think of him evcery time I touch my toes.

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