SO, that said, let us begin.
It is time for Round 2 of the Write On, Right On challenge. But first, let us see the last entry from round one:
Author: Isabella S.
Prompt: A lake house, a girl, and a deadline in 2 hours and 32 minutes.
The sun-room has always been my favorite room. My mind brushes old memories of summer days spent among the tall grasses and brittle rushes, singing, laughing.
This was always her favorite place, too.
I push the thought from my mind as soon as it's there. I didn't come here to think of her. Instead, I stare at the sunlight glinting on the shining lake outside. I force my mind from her. Suddenly, the air is too thick for my lungs. I can't breathe, I'm suffocating in this bright room. I push for the door and stumble out, surprised at my cry.
Why am I here?
I came to find silence, but my thoughts will never leave me. They're always with me, clouding my head, filling my mind with their relentless noise. I can't escape them, no matter how far I run.
She couldn't, either, I realize. Unwittingly, I lift my arm, glancing at my watch. Two-and-a-half hours to go. Two hours and thirty-two minutes, to be precise. I scold myself for looking. Why hadn't I taken the watch off? What happened was her fault, no one else's. I won't feel guilty if she's put to death. It's her fault. I squelch any thoughts otherwise.
But the thoughts creep in like daggers in my mind. I can't escape them. It's subtle at first, just brief snapshots of her, smiling, happy. She and I rowed together many times on these complacent waters. Our golden years.
Later memories stab me, now sharp. The smiles fade, turn to sobs, sobs to shouts. Her, shouting for me to hide, to cower, while she's so brave. She bore it all, every word, every bruise. But not, I realize, because of her unwavering bravery; it was her cowardice that kept her there.
I bring my hands to my elbows, feeling a sudden chill. That's it, isn't it? It was cowardice, not resolute bravery, that made her hold her ground.
And if that's so, how's she any different than me? Why should she die while I live?
I know what I have to do.
I grasp the phone.
NOW, to business. It is time for Round 2!
Same rules apply as before, save these small changes: Word count has been upped to 350. No more, but you may do less if you wish. Also, this round must be totally different than the last one. I.e., different tense and person. If you wrote in first person last time , you're on 3rd this time. If you wrote in present tense last time, you're on past now. You get the idea. Also, this is not a said rule, but I want you to challenge yourself. Write in a way that you usually don't. Experiment with style and character voice. In essence, be creative, and put all your usual restraints down the drain (except for that whole plagiarizing thing, that's still illegal. Everywhere.)
Now for the prompts:
1. Write a scene that includes: a dead poet, a blind person, and a 19th floor balcony; or,
2. Listen a song by the artist A Great Big World, OR Ludwig Van Beethoven, and write a scene that captures the feeling of the music.
3. Write a scene that includes: A tent, a train, and a surprising telephone message.
Entries must be emailed to me at email@example.com by March 2, 2016. Have fun, and my best wishes to you!
Let the Creativity commence!