vignette challenge
May. 3rd, 2017 10:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marycatelliThis week's prompt is:
dramatic
Anyone can join, with a 50-word vignette in the comments. Your vignette does not have to include the prompt term.
My efforts:
A strange smell came in the air, almost like ozone. He slowed in spite of himself, and decided that running into danger was as foolish as not escaping it.
A figure in tatters appeared ahead, and Cal remembered he dressed like the scientists, as if this were not dramatic enough.
Halley nodded and went out. The air was getting distinctly cool. A breeze carried blood red petals past her, and she flinched. No, she thought, no more drama like that morning. A quiet life in a quiet library, somewhere. Even fairies would need someone to keep their books in order.
There was nothing dramatic about the end. The mossy banks about the pool were much like those about the quieter corners of the brooks, where the water lay still. Only intellectually did I note the round shape.
So I went to kneel on the moss and look into the depths.
She watched him a moment. Tom looked back, as blankly as he could, before she curled her lip into a sneer and flounced off, indignant that she could get no more out of him. He looked down. This was not a tale that roving players would play in the square.
dramatic
Anyone can join, with a 50-word vignette in the comments. Your vignette does not have to include the prompt term.
My efforts:
A strange smell came in the air, almost like ozone. He slowed in spite of himself, and decided that running into danger was as foolish as not escaping it.
A figure in tatters appeared ahead, and Cal remembered he dressed like the scientists, as if this were not dramatic enough.
Halley nodded and went out. The air was getting distinctly cool. A breeze carried blood red petals past her, and she flinched. No, she thought, no more drama like that morning. A quiet life in a quiet library, somewhere. Even fairies would need someone to keep their books in order.
There was nothing dramatic about the end. The mossy banks about the pool were much like those about the quieter corners of the brooks, where the water lay still. Only intellectually did I note the round shape.
So I went to kneel on the moss and look into the depths.
She watched him a moment. Tom looked back, as blankly as he could, before she curled her lip into a sneer and flounced off, indignant that she could get no more out of him. He looked down. This was not a tale that roving players would play in the square.