Eh, just looking for some inspiration. Something different to write. Here goes…nothin’. Been having a hard time prioritizing my writing time again. This is something I definitely need to get into the swing of again. Found this writing prompt online via google. It was supposed to be for a poem, but suddenly I found myself in a fiction mood. 🙂
Writing Prompt: Write using all of the following words: smooth, soothe, work, dark…
It was a smooth, dark, night. A world full of purple and black. A night that touched the skin, and felt like velvet, a world that kissed and made promises.
He stood outside of the nightclub and held my hand. Across the street, the wind blew restlessly through the green trees in the small park. His eyes were wide and purple as they looked down at mine. I knew he had contacts in. I knew the diamond stud in his ear wasn’t real.
“Babe,” he said, as he held my hand. “Babe, I just need to focus on my career, on my work right now.”
I felt my stomach plummet. Suddenly, the street lights that tipped our shadows across the street, felt too-bright and intrusive. I stared up at him. Was his hair pink? Maybe blue? I batted at something that twinkled by his head.
I felt his grip tighten, or was he pulling me closer? “You’re drunk off your ass,” he said. “What else did you take? Acid?”
One didn’t need to take acid to discover how musical his voice was not. He enunciated something to me. I watched his soft mouth open wide and then purse together. Like a fish. Huh, fish lips. Fish gills. Fish and chips!
“Fish and chips?” He slapped my face. “Wake up!”
I stumbled back from him, moment gone. “I don’t need to wake up,” I blubbered as I touched at the blood coming down my nose. It was the drugs that made me weepy. It was the world that was taken away. It was the magic that had filled my head, and then was dumped out onto the street, useless, had lost its sparkle.
His skin was too pale anyway. His hair too black and greasy. He needed to focus on his music, right. Focus on a new pair of tits, and an ass that fit his hand better. Boy, I sure knew how to pick them.
I stumbled across the street.
“Adriene!” He called to my back. I ignored his grave voice. The wind that blew music through the trees was calling me. The smell of something new and fresh and not forgotten called me, soothed me.
The moon came alive on my face, then. The light that managed to trickle down into the city, lit all of the trees and the benches and the large grey stones next to the park’s entrance in a gray-blue light.
It was the fairies calling me. The fairies and soft green grass and a ground that fit just right. I imagined myself curling into the long grass, the tickle of wild flowers next to my face, and then I was doing just that. I was in the grass and in the dirt and I would lay there forever and never wake up.
Never wake up.
