Kate (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
float_on_alright) wrote2011-01-12 11:21 pm
float_on_alright) wrote2011-01-12 11:21 pm
Wednesday Charloft Prompt
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charloft
Look at this picture and let it inspire you to write something about your characters.
Because it was different for each of them, they had to find different ways to cope for themselves, though they did discuss what they were trying and how effective those methods proved. David had found that the easiest thing for him to do was just go with the flow. These predictions had started cropping up into his mind, things about nations, peoples, and their governments, mostly, and it was better to embrace it than fight it. For Jackson, it wasn’t so easy. Actually, it was difficult to understand, but he said that he could hear the energy from everything and everyone around him and thus far, the best he could do was to drown the varied frequencies with white noise.
Bea was in the middle (in her opinion), she couldn’t just go with the flow, but she had made a lot of progress against the clamor in her mind.
Every moment, of every day, the thoughts, emotions and images from other peoples’ minds bombarded her, but practicing a sort of meditation every day, helped shelter her trampled mind. She could now shield herself from most of the onslaught, and what did creep through from other people was distinct from what was her own; in other words, practicing this meditation was the reason she still knew who she was.
Focus, she thought, you need to focus.
She always started the same way; in her mind’s eye, she was walking through the woods, as she walked farther into the forest and away from the city, the world would begin to empty of human noise. It was always spring when she started, she could hear the birds chirping and singing to each other. If she just landed in her sanctuary, the meditation didn’t work very well, but if she made it a journey and a process, it never failed her.
By the time the trees began to thin again, it was summer; she imagined that the heat eased her tense muscles and she relaxed a little more. When she reached the edge of her clearing, it was fall; the leaves were changing, and then falling. The birds, whose songs were the only remaining sounds besides her footsteps, were flying away for the winter. Winter came and brought snow, which brought the final hush over her world, even her footsteps were barely audible to her own ears now. She would sit down beside her tree, the one she had “planted” when she first created this haven in her mind seven years ago, and now it had grown enough that she could lean her back against it a little. She might have sighed, but she never heard the sound.
Quiet.
This work by Kate Hill is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
charloft Look at this picture and let it inspire you to write something about your characters.
Because it was different for each of them, they had to find different ways to cope for themselves, though they did discuss what they were trying and how effective those methods proved. David had found that the easiest thing for him to do was just go with the flow. These predictions had started cropping up into his mind, things about nations, peoples, and their governments, mostly, and it was better to embrace it than fight it. For Jackson, it wasn’t so easy. Actually, it was difficult to understand, but he said that he could hear the energy from everything and everyone around him and thus far, the best he could do was to drown the varied frequencies with white noise.
Bea was in the middle (in her opinion), she couldn’t just go with the flow, but she had made a lot of progress against the clamor in her mind.
Every moment, of every day, the thoughts, emotions and images from other peoples’ minds bombarded her, but practicing a sort of meditation every day, helped shelter her trampled mind. She could now shield herself from most of the onslaught, and what did creep through from other people was distinct from what was her own; in other words, practicing this meditation was the reason she still knew who she was.
Focus, she thought, you need to focus.
She always started the same way; in her mind’s eye, she was walking through the woods, as she walked farther into the forest and away from the city, the world would begin to empty of human noise. It was always spring when she started, she could hear the birds chirping and singing to each other. If she just landed in her sanctuary, the meditation didn’t work very well, but if she made it a journey and a process, it never failed her.
By the time the trees began to thin again, it was summer; she imagined that the heat eased her tense muscles and she relaxed a little more. When she reached the edge of her clearing, it was fall; the leaves were changing, and then falling. The birds, whose songs were the only remaining sounds besides her footsteps, were flying away for the winter. Winter came and brought snow, which brought the final hush over her world, even her footsteps were barely audible to her own ears now. She would sit down beside her tree, the one she had “planted” when she first created this haven in her mind seven years ago, and now it had grown enough that she could lean her back against it a little. She might have sighed, but she never heard the sound.
Quiet.
This work by Kate Hill is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.