tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post7346780893924915129..comments2023-07-06T07:33:06.262-04:00Comments on * Writers' Spark * Every story has to start somewhere *: Prompt: Even when there are no wordsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-11397850418957597542013-10-22T22:52:49.300-04:002013-10-22T22:52:49.300-04:00Very interesting. Good sensory, lots of repetition...Very interesting. Good sensory, lots of repetition makes the words sort of flow together (like sand). I like it!Margaret S. McGrawhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18301618521427459626noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-53688755497172523132013-10-22T18:57:09.348-04:002013-10-22T18:57:09.348-04:00Sparse and powerful.Sparse and powerful.Annenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-87949882548293407232013-10-22T18:54:14.053-04:002013-10-22T18:54:14.053-04:00Prompt: Even when there are no words
Grey sand ...Prompt: Even when there are no words<br /><br /><br />Grey sand blows, tinkling across the slate ground. The sky is grey, too. A paler grey moon casts miniature shadows of individual sand grains, speeding over the slate. The wind has a noise separate from the light tinkle of the sand; it is a soft sound, closer to a moan than a rumble.<br /><br />Sand piles against the lee of a shape, an irregular lump. The lump moves, and a shower of sand sings like a million tiny harps playing the same cord. Shift. Shift. And no more: stillness. <br /><br />It is not yet time.<br /><br />Time writing: ~10 minutes, power almost outAnnenoreply@blogger.com