The Speech Accent Archive →
thewritemotive: If you’re anything like me, you think that accents are endearing and totally awesome. But even if you’re nothing like me, it’s very useful to know what each language sounds like. If you write about a guy from Russia, what does he sound like? If your character travels to Nigeria, what will the people around her sound like? How will she react? How will they react to her dialect?...
En un lugar de Tejas: A Game. →
A Game. kit-pocket: cornerof5thandvermouth: tentaclemonsterhair: reillymouse: sunflowersanddaffodils: mymostpreciouslife: hyacinthclare: sansa-snark: melmione: fuckyeahcharacterdevelopment: Open a document/journal/etc with your original writing. Scroll/flip to your last page. Reblog with your last line. I will never forget the day one of my closest friends died to save...
A vivid imagination can extinguish a weakened soul. Realizations like that taste so bitter at four in the morning, When nothing’s there to comfort me except walls and a ceiling No body to turn to, nobody at all - Just me and my damned mind. Let it go slowly; closed eyes, inhaling as I imagine the Silent cab ride, the long, resigned wait at the airport The crappy food, the exhausted flight...
A Game of Shadows: Final Confrontation
Sherlock Holmes: His advantage: my injury. My advantage: his rage. Incoming assault: feral, but experienced. Use his momentum to counter.
Professor Moriaty: Come now, you really think you're the only one who can play this game? Trap arm; target weakness. Follow with haymaker.
Sherlock Holmes: Ah, there we find the boxing champion of Cambridge.
Professor Moriaty: Competent, but predictable. Now, allow me to reply.
Sherlock Holmes: Arsenal running dry. Adjust strategy.
Professor Moriaty: Wound taking its toll.
Sherlock Holmes: As I feared. Injury makes defense untenable. Prognosis: increasingly negative.
Professor Moriaty: Let's not waste any more of one another's time. We both know how this ends.
Sherlock Holmes: Conclusion: inevitable. Unless...
My reality takes the form Of tentative little scrawls Straggling down the page. You’re just a blur in this lifetime of clarity. Sexual desire. Romantic love. Deep attachment. I want to slow dance in the dark As close as we can get to each other Until the moment dies its slow death And we’re left with just our breath. Then I’ll take our hands And cradle that ember Until it...
We walk until the sun falls out of our eyes. Then we cross the wooden floor, glowing In the shifting afternoon light. And they sound out, Lonely against the lawn. My palms are pressed Against the piano rim. You are against the wall, So you can feel the vibrations Of each ring. One. Two. Three. Four. I catch your eye and tell you, “You should have never happened.” All you do is smile,...
The Egret Heart
Stood there in that room, Hand covered in the dust that came off the doorknob Little glass hearts broken underfoot Hung your heart With a phone line out to dry Half-burned fragments written in that old familiar hand Slanted “I love you”s and “please keep all your promises” and “affectionately yours” Still legible in the dying light Urging you to find your...
I dream of a red car With a rusted hood And you there in the passenger seat, Staring out the rain-smeared window, Counting all the passing taillights. I want to say, “Look at me. You know that bed? All the hours wasted in it, It’s still calling out to me. Touch. How I longed for it, Used it as an escape, Did what I told myself I’d never-“ Little lies, layering on top of...
Day breaking again Shattering you into a thousand more reasons Not to go, not to stay All I’m wishing for is someone to take me far away From here, from here… I wake up and there’s the ceiling Walls of monotonous grey And I’m left to walk out the door Take the keys, pretend I won’t look Into my side mirrors until our place Fades out of sight. And oh, you know, The silence...
Using mainly spoons..
maggie-mae1314: We dig a tunnel under the city and release it into the wild! Oh, Mike.