Saturday, 6 September 2014

Stencil Saturday - Week 3!

Welcome to Stencil Saturdays, Week Three!

'Stencil Saturdays' is an original weekly project/meme, starting right here, that I (and hopefully you!) will partake in. The aim is to produce a piece of fiction- creative writing, in the form of poem or prose, describing something- and what that is is totally up to you!

My challenge for you guys is to write your own description, and do this, just like me!

If you wish to partake, then the rules are:
- Write as much or as little as you like!
- You can post your response where ever you feel most comfortable- on your blog, as a comment here, or just keep it to yourself.
- If you do post your response, add the URL of the post or comment containing the entry to the appropriate week's Stencil Saturday into the LinkUp!
- Please link back to my blog, The Book Carousel, in your response!
Each Saturday, I will include in the post my favourite entry of the previous week! This is not a competition, just a little exercise and a chance to have some fun! Good luck and happy writing!

My Entry:

Deep within the murky depths is where I glide, my long, translucent limbs floating by my side, my scaled wings outstretched behind me, fluttering silently, slicing through the water. My body is made for this, I am built to twist and turn through the plants, over and under the marine life forms.

Sea creatures are very beautiful. I do not believe there is anywhere that could compete with the vast array of species that all co-inhabit under the waves. Not even the jungles that lie above the surface.

But that's no matter; I do not need a jungle to see the creature that I seek this fine evening. I do not need the ocean.

To break free of the waves is a refreshing event, as my gills retire and my lungs enter their service period, I climb out of the water, clambering to perch myself upon on some rocks. The moon is high above, the stars scattered and minute, I do not wait long.

Before I know it they are approaching me, wings flitting and bodies completing turns of three-hundred and sixty degrees. They glow in the sky, blues and purples, greens and ambers. The only thing that would make this more perfect is if the glow flies appeared. But the glow flies do not live around these waters.

I cup my hands, holding them out in the open space, allowing them to approach me. When one does, I raise it to my face, softly, inspecting it. Its wings are soft, body plump and round. It is like me, but minuscule. It is like me, but a permanent land dweller. It is like me, but beautiful.

My entry was based on this picture:

Writer’s Block
A picture says a thousand words. Write them.
Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a critique about this picture. Write something about this picture.
Be sure to tag writeworld in your block!

Taken from this source, and this blog post.

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