Brain Puke

I've recently participated in ACI Manitoba's creative writing youth mentorship program. It has been a fun experience and Ms. Anita Daher is an awesome mentor. Along with her sense of humor, her knowledge in all things writing is pretty formidable.

We did some sort of speed-writing activity on our first session. We had 3 minutes to write something completely off the top of our heads. She gave us one word to start us off, but it was okay to deviate. Anyway, I thought about it for a few seconds and began writing. Here's what I wrote: 

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Keyword: Puddle

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A puddle lay on the road after the spring rain finally cleared up. I looked at it and saw the sky reflected on its placid surface. The sun shone brightly, the birds trilled in their trees and the wind smelled like freshly tilled earth. The cool breeze would sometimes make the puddle ripple and the reflection would be distorted. I walked closer and peered at my reflection.

What I saw wasn't me. I saw a gaunt face with dark circles under its eyes. Its hair was unruly and its eyes burned with a crazed frenzy. The wind blew again and as I savored the cool caress, the image of a hollow man in the puddle's surface vanished.

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There was another part to this and Anita sent us home with an assignment. We had to write every day when we woke up for three minutes. Just write. Figuratively puke our brain's contents onto a page.

I've been bad and I've only done one of these assignments. Here's what I came up with.

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I stared into the yawning chasm, the wind in my face, the sun bearing harshly upon my back. In the depths of the ravine skittered, crawled and hopped grotesque monstrosities never meant to see the light of day. It was a gaping, festering wound in the earth. 'Run away from this place' cried the cacophony of voices in my head'. I did not listen. I jumped.

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I'll be updating this blog with everything I come up with. :3.

Fallen

A single presence disturbed the swirling eddies of wild magic that flowed through the void. In the space between spaces, the unreality between realities, the nonexistence between existences, the place where neither dream nor imagination made no sense, the Sleeping King made his presence manifest. From the core of his being, an emanation swept all the chaotic energies away as he spoke “Gideon.”

Kite - Chapter 17: Stirrings of Evil

Deep in the distant northern mountains, peaks forever shrouded by black smoke, the sky rumbled and the earth shook. The dark dismal sky was filled with a sinister red light as the shackles that bound the horrid beasts crumbled to dust. The chasms between the mountains was filled with roars of delight and gratuity to an unseen benefactor.

Forever bound, forever cursed to remain entombed in the stone, guardians to deter any who dared to pass, the wyrms took great delight in their freedom. Fire filled the heavens and set alight the black clouds of soot that drifted across the mountaintops, clearing them and letting the sun shine down upon the barren wasteland where everything refused to grow.