Истории Writedaily

Hi guys , Preekha here. I have always wanted to write down some book which would have my name as an author. I may or may not be famous in the future. But I want my dream to be fulfilled. It doesn't matter to me if I am known worldwide, but I hope at least someone would know who I am from my writings. I want an identity for my writings. But I guess that's gonna take lots of time. Because guess what, I have always been delaying learning and practicing my writings. I wish to grow and pen down my thoughts into beautiful quotes, poems or even stories. To reach the mark of 10000 words I atleast need to write 100 words to start something. I am setting a goal for myself to reach 10k words in 30 days. Every day I will write a short story about any random topic or scenario that comes to my mind. Hope you will join me with my journey of writing.

I write every day, even if it's utter crap. 2000 words minimum on any book or story in progress, plus at least one exercise. Always room for improvement! These exercises also help you fend off that dreaded writer's block, that horrible time your muse decides to run off to the Bahamas without notice or inviting you along! These exercises tend to be written as rated E for everyone. Since these are also done in a "flash", editing doesn't always happen, so these will normally be fresh out of my head much like my Damaged Goods flash story. Please feel free to do the practices with me, and feel free to post a link in the comments so I can read them too! I will be adding to this daily unless, for some reason, I am unable to do my writing exercise for the day or can't get to the computer that day. Let's all strive to push our minds into becoming better writers. Ready? Pencils out... GO!

Each chapter represents one day of writing. They don't connect with each other and some will be less edited than others (depending on my timescale) but I hope you and I can see the change a year can make.

My dream now is much like your abandoned bloodline. She died today, died before my eyes, crushed & crumbled into monolouges---i call them her last words. My dream, she is like my Ammi's heart, and not like my Baba's cracked ceiling. I didn't weep, for a moment I couldn't feel her loyalty, all of a sudden, she left as if she never belonged, but, but she left me saying that--- i die when fools like you wake up to sanity. I was fourteen when i first met my dream on a winding way to obscurity, she was a abnodoned ocean of love, who averaged her way to free me off shackles--- shackles made out of the scraps of their tamed expectations. She walked me through thistles, held me in darkness, loved me like freedom and left me like stranger. I wish I could save her who once saved me, but, now I wish I had, She walked me on the road that then were my nerves, and the air that blew through them was my blood that carried life; She was a local metro window through which I would look at sunrise and sunsets, She was a habit I tamed to survive; but she died, so I died too. Thursday evening, we were walking hand in hand when Baba caught us for the first time, he didn't speak, but left me remembering my ' dignity ' I was always taught this art of sacrifice, Not only me, but all the men are taught this--- this art of sacrificing her, your dreams, sacrificing to walk in accord with your dignity, sacrificing to preserve your bloodline, sacrificing to walk with heads up--- because she was shame, who would bring forsighted regret. So, like all other men, i left her to death after knowing my ' dignity ' because small men dream small--- Baba taught me, i was small then. I wish I hadn't listened to Baba. I wish I had saved her. My dream died before my eyes, but I was too coward to save her.