@coyearth
Sounds like a plan!
Sounds like a plan!
Creative Corner
Share your own art and stories, or ask for critique.
TOPIC | So You Think You Can Write
Prompt: Healing kiss
Go forth and write whatever this means to you~
Go forth and write whatever this means to you~
Prompt: Healing kiss
Go forth and write whatever this means to you~
Go forth and write whatever this means to you~
Whenever I feel blue, I start breathing again.
~L. Frank Baum
Time~. Post what you have written. :3
Time~. Post what you have written. :3
Whenever I feel blue, I start breathing again.
~L. Frank Baum
Sara was a plucky one.
Or, at least, that's what everybody said. Sara herself wasn't quite sure what "plucky" meant.
She liked to climb things and explore. That much she knew. The ground was boring and uninteresting and filled with grown-ups far too tall for her liking. So she climbed like a cat, climbing up anything she could, so that she could perch and observe everybody like a bird. The grown-ups didn't seem quite so tall then, in the quiet moments where she was higher than everybody else.
Getting down, however, could sometimes be a struggle. Unlike a cat, she couldn't land lightly on her feet. The getting down part often ended up with bruises and scrapes and many many tears.
Her mother would rush over and coo and kiss the booboo all better, and then it would be. It would be all better. Her tears would dry, almost magically, and she would sniffle but smile. It would be all better.
Then she would quickly forget what had just transpired and climb, like a cat, again onto some far too high place, tumbling down (unlike a cat) to land ungracefully and awkwardly. Then her mother would rush over and coo and kiss the booboo all better, and then it would be. It would be all better.
Or, at least, that's what everybody said. Sara herself wasn't quite sure what "plucky" meant.
She liked to climb things and explore. That much she knew. The ground was boring and uninteresting and filled with grown-ups far too tall for her liking. So she climbed like a cat, climbing up anything she could, so that she could perch and observe everybody like a bird. The grown-ups didn't seem quite so tall then, in the quiet moments where she was higher than everybody else.
Getting down, however, could sometimes be a struggle. Unlike a cat, she couldn't land lightly on her feet. The getting down part often ended up with bruises and scrapes and many many tears.
Her mother would rush over and coo and kiss the booboo all better, and then it would be. It would be all better. Her tears would dry, almost magically, and she would sniffle but smile. It would be all better.
Then she would quickly forget what had just transpired and climb, like a cat, again onto some far too high place, tumbling down (unlike a cat) to land ungracefully and awkwardly. Then her mother would rush over and coo and kiss the booboo all better, and then it would be. It would be all better.
Sara was a plucky one.
Or, at least, that's what everybody said. Sara herself wasn't quite sure what "plucky" meant.
She liked to climb things and explore. That much she knew. The ground was boring and uninteresting and filled with grown-ups far too tall for her liking. So she climbed like a cat, climbing up anything she could, so that she could perch and observe everybody like a bird. The grown-ups didn't seem quite so tall then, in the quiet moments where she was higher than everybody else.
Getting down, however, could sometimes be a struggle. Unlike a cat, she couldn't land lightly on her feet. The getting down part often ended up with bruises and scrapes and many many tears.
Her mother would rush over and coo and kiss the booboo all better, and then it would be. It would be all better. Her tears would dry, almost magically, and she would sniffle but smile. It would be all better.
Then she would quickly forget what had just transpired and climb, like a cat, again onto some far too high place, tumbling down (unlike a cat) to land ungracefully and awkwardly. Then her mother would rush over and coo and kiss the booboo all better, and then it would be. It would be all better.
Or, at least, that's what everybody said. Sara herself wasn't quite sure what "plucky" meant.
She liked to climb things and explore. That much she knew. The ground was boring and uninteresting and filled with grown-ups far too tall for her liking. So she climbed like a cat, climbing up anything she could, so that she could perch and observe everybody like a bird. The grown-ups didn't seem quite so tall then, in the quiet moments where she was higher than everybody else.
Getting down, however, could sometimes be a struggle. Unlike a cat, she couldn't land lightly on her feet. The getting down part often ended up with bruises and scrapes and many many tears.
Her mother would rush over and coo and kiss the booboo all better, and then it would be. It would be all better. Her tears would dry, almost magically, and she would sniffle but smile. It would be all better.
Then she would quickly forget what had just transpired and climb, like a cat, again onto some far too high place, tumbling down (unlike a cat) to land ungracefully and awkwardly. Then her mother would rush over and coo and kiss the booboo all better, and then it would be. It would be all better.
| AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA |
| she/her.xvi.gemini |
@coyearth
Prompt: Healing Kiss
~~~~~
The Girl with the Kiss
She had always known she was special- in fact, everyone knew. And everyone was afraid.
It started in fifth grade, when a meaningless kiss on the forehead had resulted in a child's death. She had been triumphant, of course, she was only 9. She didn't know. She thought it was good. She kissed the other children, too. Five of her classmates fell to her, and five were released from her world. The girl with the ability of the Kiss was happy.
And so, she was kept from others, her kiss a dreaded legend. She was locked in a room, filled with white and black and grey, among other meaningless things. She grew tired and angry, angry at a world with no escape and only the pale hand that pushed food under a door slot for company. She became an animal, trapped in a cage.
And all animals know the feeling of a cage, that desperate desire to escape, to be healed. A healing release of torment. And so, on the twentieth anniversary of the kissing massacre, the girl with the ability of the Kiss escaped, and no longer took food from the pale door hand. She no longer paced the room, and no longer sobbed in sorrow. She had escaped with a kiss to her hand, a healing kiss of death.
Prompt: Healing Kiss
~~~~~
The Girl with the Kiss
She had always known she was special- in fact, everyone knew. And everyone was afraid.
It started in fifth grade, when a meaningless kiss on the forehead had resulted in a child's death. She had been triumphant, of course, she was only 9. She didn't know. She thought it was good. She kissed the other children, too. Five of her classmates fell to her, and five were released from her world. The girl with the ability of the Kiss was happy.
And so, she was kept from others, her kiss a dreaded legend. She was locked in a room, filled with white and black and grey, among other meaningless things. She grew tired and angry, angry at a world with no escape and only the pale hand that pushed food under a door slot for company. She became an animal, trapped in a cage.
And all animals know the feeling of a cage, that desperate desire to escape, to be healed. A healing release of torment. And so, on the twentieth anniversary of the kissing massacre, the girl with the ability of the Kiss escaped, and no longer took food from the pale door hand. She no longer paced the room, and no longer sobbed in sorrow. She had escaped with a kiss to her hand, a healing kiss of death.
@coyearth
Prompt: Healing Kiss
~~~~~
The Girl with the Kiss
She had always known she was special- in fact, everyone knew. And everyone was afraid.
It started in fifth grade, when a meaningless kiss on the forehead had resulted in a child's death. She had been triumphant, of course, she was only 9. She didn't know. She thought it was good. She kissed the other children, too. Five of her classmates fell to her, and five were released from her world. The girl with the ability of the Kiss was happy.
And so, she was kept from others, her kiss a dreaded legend. She was locked in a room, filled with white and black and grey, among other meaningless things. She grew tired and angry, angry at a world with no escape and only the pale hand that pushed food under a door slot for company. She became an animal, trapped in a cage.
And all animals know the feeling of a cage, that desperate desire to escape, to be healed. A healing release of torment. And so, on the twentieth anniversary of the kissing massacre, the girl with the ability of the Kiss escaped, and no longer took food from the pale door hand. She no longer paced the room, and no longer sobbed in sorrow. She had escaped with a kiss to her hand, a healing kiss of death.
Prompt: Healing Kiss
~~~~~
The Girl with the Kiss
She had always known she was special- in fact, everyone knew. And everyone was afraid.
It started in fifth grade, when a meaningless kiss on the forehead had resulted in a child's death. She had been triumphant, of course, she was only 9. She didn't know. She thought it was good. She kissed the other children, too. Five of her classmates fell to her, and five were released from her world. The girl with the ability of the Kiss was happy.
And so, she was kept from others, her kiss a dreaded legend. She was locked in a room, filled with white and black and grey, among other meaningless things. She grew tired and angry, angry at a world with no escape and only the pale hand that pushed food under a door slot for company. She became an animal, trapped in a cage.
And all animals know the feeling of a cage, that desperate desire to escape, to be healed. A healing release of torment. And so, on the twentieth anniversary of the kissing massacre, the girl with the ability of the Kiss escaped, and no longer took food from the pale door hand. She no longer paced the room, and no longer sobbed in sorrow. She had escaped with a kiss to her hand, a healing kiss of death.
Wow, both of those are really good! Tacodoodle, you really shocked me haha. However, favvyn's story was quite cute, so they're the next judge. :3 Great job, you guys!
Wow, both of those are really good! Tacodoodle, you really shocked me haha. However, favvyn's story was quite cute, so they're the next judge. :3 Great job, you guys!
Whenever I feel blue, I start breathing again.
~L. Frank Baum
@Tacodoodle whoa. you totally outdid me haha. i really like how you interpreted the prompt and everything aaa and oh wow, the ending. it took me by surprise a little bit but it really tied the story together well!
@Tacodoodle whoa. you totally outdid me haha. i really like how you interpreted the prompt and everything aaa and oh wow, the ending. it took me by surprise a little bit but it really tied the story together well!
| AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA |
| she/her.xvi.gemini |
er, so do i create a prompt and everything? @coyearth @Tacodoodle
er, so do i create a prompt and everything? @coyearth @Tacodoodle
| AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA |
| she/her.xvi.gemini |