Salt (TW: blood and wounds)
The cut burned as the saltwater washed away most of the blood. I hissed, a scream building up in my throat that I refused to let out. No one is gonna hear me cry. No one. My shoulder screamed though. The skin that was more at a 35 degree angle away from the rest. It didn't feel right.
Getting myself out of the water, I shuffled to shore. My med kit sat atop a rotting log- like my sanity-. I opened it and picked out a needle and thread. With my non-dominant hand I began to stitch the skin back together. The stitches managed to dull the pain by warring with it. It didn't help that they were uneven and that I had poked a bit too deep at times drawing droplets of blood. (TBC)
Write about a world that has no color
GRAYVILLE was a fitting name for this town, everyone is so... bland. No energy. No good nor bad. We're all just us. Some cook the corshlaw, others dictate who goes to the courthouse and others teach the children of mathematics and the sciences. The temperature is always 10 degrees, and the sky is always filled with clouds. It never rains here. That doesn't make getting food harder. Corsh is made in a special farm just for it. The farmers in that facility are experts, trained in their field. We all are. We may all die but Our knowledge always gets passed down to the next. If one person knows something, then the others will too. Juliard makes sure of that. Juliard keeps things under control. Watches and protects us from all the potential threats outside GRAYVILLE walls. No outsiders have ever visited. (TBC)
Set a story in a mythical location, either fictional or historical
The underworld is quite dark, Persephone thought as she walked down the edge of the styx. Obsidian was the building material of choice. black sand wedges itself everywhere. Shades filled the world of Asphedale. The was most of the underworld anyways. The only pop of color Persephone could see was a shrub that stubbornly hid interspersed within the dead grass of the rolling hills. Persephone strolled to one of these green shrubs. She kneeled down and picked one of the leaves from this plant. It was cool. She placed it delicately on her tongue. Her eyes widened. It tasted bitter yet there was something soft about the flavors. A little mellow but not enough to take any flavor from the herb. (TBC)
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365 Days of Writing
DiversosMe writing 3 prompts a day for 365 days. Prompts come from "A Year of Creative Writing Prompts" by Love In Ink (More info on first page)
