Hello. Over time, I’ve written a lot of various pieces of writing that don’t connect to anything specific. It’s good practice! It’s fun just writing a scene, or even a part of a scene, just to try things out and to let your creativity flow. Below is a few of those. Remember that these were made up on the spot back when I wrote them, so they’re only rough drafts. If you’ve never tried it, I urge you too, especially if you love writing.
These were written just over a year ago. It’s nice to read these personally, because I can see how much I’ve improved since then.
The two were greeted only by the moon’s feint misty glow across the barren flat land, like a sheet of black ice that looked as if it went on for miles in every direction. No matter where they turned, it was an endless purgatory of nothing but the odd rock and tiny pebble sitting motionless on the dirt. “Grey” was the best way to describe their location. It can be bland and lonely, with a certain beauty, even if it is hard to find.
It’s strange what comfort one can seek when no other comforts are available to them. The sound of the whistling cool breeze picking up felt welcoming after a long moment of absolute silence, but they soon realised that it was all they had.
What would you do if you could live forever? If you never died, would you seek to better the world, or would you travel down a more selfish path? Through history, people have sought a method to immortality, so that the grip of death would never take them away from our world, for one reason or another. However, one could also ask: What is dying?
One could also respond to say that living is to never be forgotten. If people remember your name, what kind of person you were, or what you did, you are never truly gone from this world. Therefore, some who sought this magical substance to grand them endless life were in fact remembered, and the simple solution to immortality could indeed be something so simple as being the person you want to be.
Mud kicked up around his torn leather boots and the ground itself threatened to trap him within its sopping rugged surface caused by the never-ending storm of rain. However, he pushed forward, despite his inability to see more than ten or twenty feet before his eyes. His legs ached, his body shivered, but not just with the feeling of wind against his dripping wet skin, but with anticipation for what was to come. Deep down, he know what he would find out here in the mountains, and it was more dangerous than the terrain by far.
Bound in nothing but bits of cloth and leather to conceal his fit and muscular body, this man stood tall and proud through the shrouding downpour which drenched his long brown hair, done up in the style of a fox-tail via the band of shined pearls gifted to him by his mother several years ago. In his hand, an axe. It was no special axe, but one made of metal with a blade on either side, and it had seen outstanding conflicts than most others could say of their weapon.
His head turned left, and then right, as his ears heard the sound of thunder booming across the sky. At least he thought it was that, but he soon realised how wrong he was, for the deafening winds were coming from the wings of a great dragon. The impact of it landing so close to where he stood almost caused him to fall to he knees, like for a moment the greatest quake he ever felt occurred beneath his feet.
It was difficult to see, but before him now stood a towering creature that appeared like a lizard though its wings were endless and its teeth were as long as any crafted longsword. It made no sound but the eerie noise of its breath escaping slowly through the dragon’s mouth louder than the biggest lion one would ever meet. Claws tore into the mud with a more effective grip than the man could ever hope to achieve with his his boots, now almost falling apart from the filth and moisture.
As he stood there with his weapon at the ready, he could feel and smell the horrid and warm breath against his entire body. This was what he wanted. Two forces of battle were ready to clash.
When a volcano erupts, it’s a horrific example of what the universe can use to strike fear into our hearts, devastate our lives, and make us feel weak and insignificant. Molten rock spews forth from the earth’s core, hotter than any fire one uses to cook their beans, or warm their hands. It’s frightening, but in a small way, beautiful as well. An eruption was nothing compared to Alamon’s tantrum, and any majesty that could come from fear was forever lost within his never-shifting glare. I suddenly wished I was standing face-to-face with a destructive act of God. It felt like I was already, anyway.