writing prompt for self, week 1.
you know what sucks?
the fact there are no good
- and still active -
writing prompt communities on livejournal.
i need a prompt.
i've decided to just "inspiration" myself.
reaction to: this.
seven minutes
he began to melt all she ever loved and it fell through his hands. his eyes began to blur as his hands began to bleed and her screams began to dull in his ears as he gave up on listening. he let it melt as he held them in his palms over the stove, letting the plastic bubble and singe the pink flesh.
there was a clamor in the background, he knew she was dying. can't stop now, couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, didn't she know what was best. he knows what's best for her. can't stop now, couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, she should stop the shouts. her voice echoed through the linoleum on the floor and the vibrations made music. how ironic, he thought. how ironic. he tapped his feet along, covering his body in the metallic shades of all she ever wanted. she was begging him now to stop, horrified that he'd hurt her and hurt himself, and they he didn't even wince as his body caught aflame. he was heard now, his body exploded into music, and she was left there screaming as her cds turned him into a composition. her punishment was over.
eh. that made no sense for seven minutes. sigh.
thursday's post will be better. i swear. (it's a high fidelity listing entry coming up. put your thinking caps on kids.)
<3