How Do Your Writing Exercises Work? Essentially, I go to a “Single Word Prompt Generator” and have it throw a random word at me. Then I go to Unsplash.com and use that word to search their database of images, and scroll through for something that catches my attention. This may be something where I simply want to describe what’s in the image, or maybe it sparks a small story nugget in my brain. Regardless, I then take the picture and post it here, with credit, and proceed to write for 15 minutes. Whatever I produce, I share with you lovely people. Unedited. Typos are to be expected. Word Prompt: Tree Content & Trigger Warnings
“Hanna?” She could tell from the tone of Alex’s voice that he’d called her name more than once, but Hanna blinked at him blankly, having no idea how long her friend had been speaking to her and slowly his expression of frustration melted into one of understanding. “What do you see?” he asked gently, and Hanna turned her wide green eyes back to the tall tree standing alone on the curve of the road. “It’s a hanging tree,” she breathed, and the warm pressure of Alex’s hand on her spine made her shiver at the contrast between it and the icy air surrounding her. Hanna had long ago come to terms with her ability to see the ghosts of the dead, but it was situations like this that made her wish she was as blind to the supernatural as Alex beside her. Hanging from every bough of the tree was a blackened corpse, fraying rope around broken necks, the mud at it’s base soiled with shit and urine, and the bark of it’s trunk soaked with the blood of the damned. Hanna swallowed back the bile gathering in her throat and turned away, she couldn’t help those souls and even if she could, she wasn’t sure she’d want to aid the soul of someone who had been executed. With her back to the hanging tree, however, she spotted another soul. A woman in a white dress, the lace wispy and delicate in a way that could only come from an ethereal spirit. She stood at the side of the road, head tilted back to stare up at the hanging tree, and Hanna took a slow step towards the spirit. It didn’t move or make a sound, and she crept another step closer, and then another. Alex was still beside her, used to her abilities after their years of friendship, and he kept his hand against her back, grounding her. As she got closer, Hanna saw the tears streaking down the spirits face, and slowly it turned black pits where it’s eyes should be on Hanna and she gasped. “I killed them,” came the voice, hoarse and cold as the grave from lips that didn’t deign to move. “They came for me, to force themselves on me, so I killed them,” the spirit admitted, “my lover took the blame, and there he hangs forever more. “He told me to run, but he stood by me in my darkest hour, I will not leave him; Do not make me.” It was a plea and a warning. Hanna could help her move on, she’d done it before, but slowly she shook her head. A silent promise to not force this spirit to abandon her love. A quiet sigh of relief and the ghost turned her sightless gaze back to the tree, returning to her eternal vigil, and Hana felt tears that mirrored the spirits drip down her cheeks. “What do you see?” Alex asked, voice quiet and full of sympathetic pain, but Hanna swallowed hard, and shook her head as she stepped back from the ghostly bride, turning with Alex at her side to move along on their journey. “Eternal love.” #Writing #Original #Writing Exercise #Ari Writes #Arista Writes #CW Death #CW Hanging #CW Gore #CW Attempted Rape #CW Murder #CW Execution
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Arista Holmes
I'm a writer in her thirties, who is based in the South East of England. Archives
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