Zadown Posted August 25, 2002 Report Share Posted August 25, 2002 Well they are lying, I believe 40ish words will do. Red sky, like a bleeding wound on fire. Dry, dying earth reaching upwards with rusty metallic fingers; towers made of cables and rust and old hopes. Red land, red sky - a post-apocalyptic mockery of the sea meeting the sky in the horizont. Oppressive heat hangs above the desert. Nothing moves. Man-made rainbow hangs in the air, painted on the lazy dust. Solemn shapes in the darkness between - an altar, benches, candelabra. Walls climb up and are lost from sight, reach so close to heaven that people are forced to avert their eyes. In the walls and pillars the spirit of the makers, immortal. Tiny bridge between two huge red bricks, like a toy about to be crushed. Water trickles far beneath, swirls and does little whirlpools, looks like it could use a few ducks. On the bridge, a worker in blue-grey overalls stares down. Time dies, minute per paid minute. Yah, well .. perhaps these have slightly less detail than pictures, but they convey the unseen parts of a landscape better. Anybody else want to try? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gwaihir Posted August 27, 2002 Report Share Posted August 27, 2002 Neat idea; I wanna do one. (I'm finally back! Everywhere trees. A dirt path inbedded with rocks painful to bare feet runs through. The dead brown leaves of many many years lie on the ground almost as thick as the pleasant memories of the thousands of people who have passed through. Nearby children's laughter is heard. ---------- I want to be page 93 of Pineapples, the Avian Crows-Nyyark Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gyrfalcon Posted August 27, 2002 Report Share Posted August 27, 2002 Yay, Gwaihir is back! (I'd do one of these, but I tend to get verbose when I describe something, a bit more then fourty words. Plus, unlike Zadown, I can't think of any scene vivid enough that I wish to paint it with words right now.) Welcome back, Gwaihir. =) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Peredhil Posted August 27, 2002 Report Share Posted August 27, 2002 The black rock stood etched against the violet sky. Harsh planes glistened slickly in the wet, the reminder of the storm just past. Two stars peered through the clouds, as though to observe the results of the storm's fury. The bitter smell of ozone still lingered about the rock's crown, violent perfume. The stone stood scarred, but enduring. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Nyyark Posted August 30, 2002 Report Share Posted August 30, 2002 Green and Ground and Sky met as grey, with the spotlight on the fangs. Grown from beauty a horrable beast, a true look into the sewers. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Minta Rose Posted August 30, 2002 Report Share Posted August 30, 2002 Cabana boy! Move the potted palm, it's not blocking the sun enough, I'll get spotted. And change the channel, I wanted Waikiki, not Maui! . . .*slam*. . .Kids these days. Next thing you'll know, he'll want me to watch amateur golf. Stand around and watch those young punks AIM for the water hazard? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Lord of the Gay Posted September 1, 2002 Report Share Posted September 1, 2002 Her dark luminous eyes was the first thing that drew your sight into the picture, as light both radiates and reflecting from the liquid black orbs. It illuminate such an exquisite joy that only those in affection can hold but so secretive that not even her supposed admirer knows. The ecstasy was certainly her own. The face was a common beauty, shaped in a child-like roundness with smoothing skin almost luring your hand to cup her chin and pinch her tender cheek. Her hair is thin and willow peaked, gently falling neatly down to her shoulders, so lightly that it could almost fly in the gentle summer breeze. Her hair glimmer slightly of sectioned red and blue as the colors of the spectrum playfully dance on her hair. Her features were enhanced by her small delicate nose and her smaller lips that forms into the Mona Lisa smile. Typical small women she was, standing 5’4 and ready. She hides her body in a thick black overall coat with her adorable figures only showing slightly: a sign of insecurity. It was for the same reason that one would almost hold on to her tight to protect her from harm, and cherish her inevitability. The erotic attraction of the black coat is what is hidden inside, and men love mystery. She clasped her hands together, small shoulders slightly bending forward in a girlish manner. Not long fingers clasp together in soft gentle pose, her hands so small your hands can grasp if she did not slip through your fingers. All this forms into an expression of eager innocent, her portrait etched forever in my mind that even now I do not comprehend. I remember only seeing the silhouette of my own wretched face in her iris as she stared up at me. Did she see more then I myself could know when she stares into my portrait in her mind? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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