Writing Prompt

Luna and Nero ran for their lives. Once again, they’re being chased by hunters. The hunters had all sorts of things. Like a knife that could hurt demonic . That could hurt Nero. When Luna realized this she clenched her fists making the trees come alive and swinging at the hunters. When I saw his eyes widen, then he smiled. “Nice thinking, Lun!” Luna rolled her eyes. “Again, its ‘Luna’! Not ‘Lun’!...

It was a fateful summer day

The tempature was just right

The trees felt as if the hugged her

Reminding her of the old fall light

When she was young in adulthood

Trying to follow her dreams

And that boy was with me

Trying to make me beam

No she was withering and old

And couldn’t go skipping around the big oaks that now stood

And a single tear fell down her cheek

It was a fateful summer day…...

The last sliver of sun

Just a slice

That’s what was left in the sky

It somehow kept everything bright

Despite not being able to give its all.

Still its light

Kept things aglow

Saffron smiled up at the sunset as he finished writing his poem. He’d been out too long, long enough for his fingers to begin getting cold. It was much easier to write out here alone, despite him still getting used to bei...

Watching couples stroll past me in the rain, wishing I had someone to carry my umbrella.

No, this was not your typical romantic scenario.

No, I would not no longer feel the rain dripping down my back and look up to see a handsome young man smiling down at me.

No, I was not going to be fine with it.

I was going to watch the rain drench my boots as I stared down.

Hoping, dreaming for someone to love...

The last time I cried, I had fallen on concrete and scraped my leg. The tears pricked my eyes and embarrassment knawed on my heart. My grandfather made his way over to me and lifted my chin. I expected comfort and tenderness. I wanted comfort and stability. But I got disappointment and rage. My grandfather lifted my chin, looked me in the eye and told me as a young boy and asked me if I want to be...

Basten sat in the kitchen, just outside the bedroom, and listened to the sounds emanating from within. There was a bustle of people moving about and low voices murmuring things which he could not decipher. Every few minutes, he heard the voice of Jessa moaning or crying out briefly as she was experiencing labor pains. The one place Basten most desired to be, he was not permitted.

A knock at the...

[Incomplete, inspired by/Retelling of biblical story of Joseph]

The rope around my neck won’t kill me, but the nasty scar it’ll leave could ruin me.

With what little slack I have, I lift my bound hands to ease it away for some relief.

I need to focus on surviving. The future isn’t set in stone yet.

The coarse threads bite my palms as I gently tug the rope. Red blisters had formed, popped, and...

Suddenly, all the pent-up emotions he had held within came rushing down on Zeeke as he lay on his-couch at the exact same spot-for the eleventh time this week, tears crawled down from his face one by one. He was in deep, utter pain, like a man who had been shot and can't seem to go to sleep. he was worse than a junkie without their drugs. He was in an endless state of torment because he couldn't h...

The nurse hands her to me, wrapped in a snug pink bundle. Her face is scrunched up and wrinkled. All angry like a little old granny.

Melody watches, tired eyes content. Dark bags hang low below her shining blue eyes. She’s more beautiful now then ever before.

My eyes sting, as I stare at her face. This impossible life I hold in my hands, brand new. Half me, half Melody. A person, so fresh and unl...

I watched the two of them as they walked away, hands tucked around each other. Her hair flowed lightly in the winter wind; his coat was black and drawn tightly against his skin. The presents they just bought were wrapped in a small, white bag. I wondered who would receive them, knowing it wasn’t me.

Of course it wasn’t me; why would it be? They didn’t know me, and I didn’t know them. But I yearn...