Hello, 'Charms. So, I used to RP here back on what apparently was the old server and since then my account has gotten lost somewhere in cyberspace. Yoshi (El) persuaded me to sign up again and post some prose I wrote today up here, so here it goes.
Please note: I am not a writer. I don't have much experience with it, and this was simply an exploratory (explorative?) exercise. It's basically just thoughts and feelings developing into something. There is no plot or specific character in this passage.
Long story short: I'm (eventually) turning it into a story about dragons. Yeah, you heard me. Dragons. Human-form, bad-ass, 21st century dragons. Don't ask how, just go with it. I only really realised this towards the end so it does take a bit of a turn in the last couple of paragraphs.
Anyway, enjoy. This is very much a first draft (I cannot stress that enough!), I will most certainly rewrite the majority of it and make it better, but let me know what you think. Be gentle! But constructive. I aim to write more, if anyone cares I will be happy to post more at some point once I work out a general plot.
Thanks, and without further ado, here is draft one of a short piece named Winter Sun. Dzero, out! Peace. x
___________________
Winter Sun
It was nearing the end of winter when things began going wrong in my world. The sun was shining through the windows, warm and friendly light, filling my little box of a bedroom with the lie of a summers day. Outside it was quiet, only the gentle hum of the city below, faint whirring by of cars in the distance. There was something soothing about city noise on a day like this, it reminded me of long summers as a child, long empty hours letting the world go by without a care. And then I was filled with images of sitting by the sea, breathing the warm, salt air, listening to the gentle ripple of waves. Stillness. All these things took me home in so many ways, some I could not comprehend but for a oddly stirring in my soul. A longing ache.
It didn’t matter that it was really winter, that’s just how this day was. In the end, it didn’t ever matter what day it was or what time of year or the weather or where the earth had come to be in it’s orbit around the sun. Sometimes I felt the earth was moving backwards. Or not at all. Yet the days changed, the cold had long set in and in a few months warm southerly winds would come to greet this part of the world and I’d see much more of these sunny days and the world would keep spinning and everyone would carry on, just like they always did.
Birds sang in the distance. Seagulls - I didn’t know they had them so far from the sea. I’d grown up with their bird-call, every morning they would fly over the houses and call into the salt air. I didn’t know where they were going. I guessed they went anywhere. Anywhere they could to find what they needed for the day. How easy it would be to spread my wings and fly away.
I think I’d find a better place, somewhere far from here, where the sun always shone like it did today. Where I could always be near the sea, I could sit and listen to the waves and let them flow over my mind and wash my soul ‘til it was clean and pure. I’d spend the days in serene bliss, for as long as I needed, then fly back again and carry on with my life, with everything. Everything. That word sent a weight heavy down upon me like the heavens on Atlas’s back, and suddenly the cool blue sky above me felt like it did indeed need holding up lest the universe collapse on top of me.
I saw one, flying high above. That lucky creature. Sure, perhaps my perception of the animal, how it must be so entirely free and happy was an illusion. I remember hearing somewhere that the majority of animals in the world live in stress. I thought to myself that humanity is just a lot more complex in that respect, our stress is painted with illusions and delusions of the world going round and things being just ‘how they are meant to be’. And everybody is okay, of course. Everyone everywhere, in the TV and in the media, all shiny happy smiley people.
So many pictures of the world, images, noise, nothings, pervading my conception of it, yet so much of that world evading my existence. Like ships, and I was an iceberg in a frozen black sea.
And something was moving in my soul. Curling, unsettled, coiling around my heart, and radiating throughout my body, my blood - red and hot. It pulsed out from the heart and shot straight back and out once again. Again. Again. Again.
It filled my day with a fire. I struggled to understand the sensation, like caffeine and alcohol and sugar burning through my brain, my mind searing. The whole day I was on some flighty flux between high and low, and shooting off in every other direction. My soul whipped, hissed, rattled inside of me, let out an inaudible snarl.
I must be going mad.
***
Please note: I am not a writer. I don't have much experience with it, and this was simply an exploratory (explorative?) exercise. It's basically just thoughts and feelings developing into something. There is no plot or specific character in this passage.
Long story short: I'm (eventually) turning it into a story about dragons. Yeah, you heard me. Dragons. Human-form, bad-ass, 21st century dragons. Don't ask how, just go with it. I only really realised this towards the end so it does take a bit of a turn in the last couple of paragraphs.
Anyway, enjoy. This is very much a first draft (I cannot stress that enough!), I will most certainly rewrite the majority of it and make it better, but let me know what you think. Be gentle! But constructive. I aim to write more, if anyone cares I will be happy to post more at some point once I work out a general plot.
Thanks, and without further ado, here is draft one of a short piece named Winter Sun. Dzero, out! Peace. x
___________________
Winter Sun
It was nearing the end of winter when things began going wrong in my world. The sun was shining through the windows, warm and friendly light, filling my little box of a bedroom with the lie of a summers day. Outside it was quiet, only the gentle hum of the city below, faint whirring by of cars in the distance. There was something soothing about city noise on a day like this, it reminded me of long summers as a child, long empty hours letting the world go by without a care. And then I was filled with images of sitting by the sea, breathing the warm, salt air, listening to the gentle ripple of waves. Stillness. All these things took me home in so many ways, some I could not comprehend but for a oddly stirring in my soul. A longing ache.
It didn’t matter that it was really winter, that’s just how this day was. In the end, it didn’t ever matter what day it was or what time of year or the weather or where the earth had come to be in it’s orbit around the sun. Sometimes I felt the earth was moving backwards. Or not at all. Yet the days changed, the cold had long set in and in a few months warm southerly winds would come to greet this part of the world and I’d see much more of these sunny days and the world would keep spinning and everyone would carry on, just like they always did.
Birds sang in the distance. Seagulls - I didn’t know they had them so far from the sea. I’d grown up with their bird-call, every morning they would fly over the houses and call into the salt air. I didn’t know where they were going. I guessed they went anywhere. Anywhere they could to find what they needed for the day. How easy it would be to spread my wings and fly away.
I think I’d find a better place, somewhere far from here, where the sun always shone like it did today. Where I could always be near the sea, I could sit and listen to the waves and let them flow over my mind and wash my soul ‘til it was clean and pure. I’d spend the days in serene bliss, for as long as I needed, then fly back again and carry on with my life, with everything. Everything. That word sent a weight heavy down upon me like the heavens on Atlas’s back, and suddenly the cool blue sky above me felt like it did indeed need holding up lest the universe collapse on top of me.
I saw one, flying high above. That lucky creature. Sure, perhaps my perception of the animal, how it must be so entirely free and happy was an illusion. I remember hearing somewhere that the majority of animals in the world live in stress. I thought to myself that humanity is just a lot more complex in that respect, our stress is painted with illusions and delusions of the world going round and things being just ‘how they are meant to be’. And everybody is okay, of course. Everyone everywhere, in the TV and in the media, all shiny happy smiley people.
So many pictures of the world, images, noise, nothings, pervading my conception of it, yet so much of that world evading my existence. Like ships, and I was an iceberg in a frozen black sea.
And something was moving in my soul. Curling, unsettled, coiling around my heart, and radiating throughout my body, my blood - red and hot. It pulsed out from the heart and shot straight back and out once again. Again. Again. Again.
It filled my day with a fire. I struggled to understand the sensation, like caffeine and alcohol and sugar burning through my brain, my mind searing. The whole day I was on some flighty flux between high and low, and shooting off in every other direction. My soul whipped, hissed, rattled inside of me, let out an inaudible snarl.
I must be going mad.
***
)
