Picture it & Write

Tags

, , , , ,

Welcome to the Picture it & Write creative writing exercise. I invite people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (please provide a translation). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

Please continue to write however you’re inspired, but add a tag to the beginning of your post if there’s mature content in order to keep Picture it & Write an engaging event for all of our followers.

I held my breath as the grocery store scooter hit a bump. Pain radiated out from my abdomen. My eyes clenched shut and I almost cried. Ever since the surgury, it felt like someone had attacked my midsection with a cheese wire. The doctor told me I could walk and push a cart, which would have been all well and good except for the car ride to the store. Every bump jiggled my stomach and even though there was no visual evidence of such, I swear it pulled on my stitches.

I headed to the frozen food aisle since there was no way in Hell I would be cooking this week. When I rounded the corner, I saw a mother carying her child. It didn’t take telepathy to know what she thought of me. Her eyes caught mine, roamed down to the scooter and then back up. She saw a twenty-two year old riding a scooter. She didn’t see the four incisions in my belly, kept together by stitches and glue. She didn’t see my missing ovaries, uterous, and tubes. She saw a lazy girl taking resources from the elderly.

I passed the frozen food, my cheeks flushed with emberassment. It might have been different if I had a cast on my foot, something she could see. When one of the store clerks glared at me, I abandoned the scooter and walked slowly, painfully back to the car. Tonight, I would order takeout.

Eliabeth Hawthorne

Everyone is welcome to use the button, just link them back to the Picture it & Write category or Ermiliablog:) Share your love for Picture it & write on your blog with the image below. Be proud, and stylish ;) !

Photobucket

Book Review: John Dies at the End by David Wong

Tags

, , , , , , ,

John Dies at the End

by David Wong

genre: paranormal, adult*

Summary

John Dies at the End

STOP.

You should not have touched this book with your bare hands.

NO, don’t put it down. It’s too late.

They’re watching you.

My name is David Wong. My best friend is John. Those names are fake. You might want to change yours.

You may not want to know about the things you’ll read on these pages, about the sauce, about Korrok, about the invasion, and the future. But it’s too late. You touched the book. You’re in the game. You’re under the eye.

The only defense is knowledge. You need to read this book, to the end. Even the part with the bratwurst. Why? You just have to trust me.

The important thing is this:

The drug is called Soy Sauce and it gives users a window into another dimension.

John and I never had the chance to say no.

You still do.

Unfortunately for us, if you make the right choice, we’ll have a much harder time explaining how to fight off the otherworldly invasion currently threatening to enslave humanity.

I’m sorry to have involved you in this, I really am. But as you read about these terrible events and the very dark epoch the world is about to enter as a result, it is crucial you keep one thing in mind:

None of this is was my fault.

Continue reading

Blind Sight: Aniela | Chapter One

Tags

, , , ,

Blind Sight: Through The Eyes Of Aniela Dawson

Eliabeth Hawthorne

Chapter One

Searing Regret

Blind-Sight-Ana-Book-CoverThe years of playing dress-up had long faded into memory. At seventeen, Aniela was a pretty girl, although lacking the sophisticated beauty of her mother and sister. Her long blonde locks cascaded in a style reminiscent of her childhood, but her blue eyes had lost some of their innocence. Her playful demeanor, although now tempered by responsibility, had never left entirely.

It was morning. Aniela’s mother and brother had already departed for work, leaving her alone with her father at the table. Distinguished streaks of grey dashed his dark brown hair. While her mother would employ the handiwork of every stylist in Edaion before letting a strand of grey show, he bragged he had earned every one of them as a devoted husband and king. His deep-set brown eyes scanned the front page of the Edaion Daily from under his thick eyebrows. Tatiana had inherited his olive skin, while Aniela had their mother’s fair complexion.

As soon as he finished reading the article, he handed it to Aniela with a soft ”good job.” Today’s headline was a celebratory remark about Phoenix, the combination orphanage and boarding school Aniela had organized a year ago to the day.

She excused herself, leaving James to his reading and morning coffee. She rapped gently on Theodore’s office door and waited for a response before entering. She was always more reserved in his office than elsewhere, for while he had at one time been fun and playful as her brother, as prince, he was nothing if not professional. Theodore had his father’s dominant features and angled jawline, but softer eyes. His hair had darkened as he aged, from their mother’s blonde to their father’s brown.

“You want me to make sure Tia behaves herself.” He startled her with his insight this early in the morning. Without at least four cups of coffee, it was rare to see his eyes open without the aid of toothpicks.

“I know you can never make Tatiana do anything,” she replied. Not even their mother had that power. “But tonight is important. Phoenix needs more funding, and I want everything to go smoothly. If I had my way, Tatiana would not have to come.” Continue reading

__picture it & write

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

I urge people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (provide a translation please :) ). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

Please continue to write however you’re inspired, but add a tag to the beginning of your post if there’s mature content in order to keep Picture it & Write an engaging event for all of our followers.

dragon eye of indigo blue (by paloetic)

dragon eye of indigo blue (by paloetic)

The creature stared at me. I took another step towards it. The dragon didn’t flinch as I made my way up to it, sword in hand. Was it not scared? Every fibre of my being was taut with nerves. With each step I took, I waited for the dragon to snap and devour me.

I took the last step and crouched beside the beasts head which lay on the cold stone floor. Feeling stupid with my sword in hand, I lay it on the ground next to me. Maybe this beast could help me on my quest? I looked to the beast again and felt something grip my heart. It’s eyes… they were hers. But where was she? I snatched my sword off the ground and leapt back.

“Where is she? And why do you have her eyes?!” My voice broke with emotion.

– Ermisenda Alvarez Continue reading

Blind Sight: Aniela | Prologue

Tags

, , ,

Blind Sight: Through The Eyes Of Aniela Dawson

Eliabeth Hawthorne

Prologue

Blind-Sight-Ana-Book-Cover

A bundle of joy wrapped in a white feather boa streaked down the hall. Her long blonde hair flowed out behind her. Dressed in a vintage dress several sizes too large, Edaion’s youngest princess had just come out from playing dress up in her mother’s closet. Aniela wore oversized tortoise-shell aviator sunglasses and a necklace of pearls that dragged on the floor, threatening to trip her as she ran barefoot toward her sister’s room. The energetic four-year-old girl pushed open the bedroom door without knocking, still learning appropriate boundaries.

Seven-year-old Tatiana sat on her bed, her dark hair and dark eyes a stark contrast to Aniela’s baby blues. One of their mother’s favorite lamps levitated up and down; it moved slowly through the air. Tatiana never let it exceed six inches from the ground while she practiced her magic. All three of the Dawson children had inherited telekinesis from their mother. Tatiana specialized in large, heavy objects. Her twin, Theodore, who sat at Tatiana’s desk playing solitaire in the air, specialized in multiple small objects. Aniela had yet to develop a specialty.

“Hi Ana,” Theodore said. The door swung shut without any help from his sister.

“Hi Teo,” Aniela replied, sometimes still struggling with her t-h sounds.

Aniela tried to jump on her sister’s bed, but it was too high, causing her to miss and slide down until her feet once again touched the soft rug. She backed up and took a running leap. Aniela’s forehead smacked into Tatiana’s palm and she toppled backward onto to floor. Theodore frowned. His brow furrowed as he shook his head, but he did not comment as Aniela crawled up onto his lap instead. Much like his role in life, his looks fell somewhere between the two girls’. He had Tatiana’s intelligent brown eyes and Aniela’s light blonde hair. While he lacked Aniela’s innocence, he also lacked Tatiana’s smugness. He was the middle; one they could both enjoy.

Continue reading

Picture it & Write

Tags

, , , , ,

Welcome to the Picture it & Write creative writing exercise. I invite people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (please provide a translation). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

Please continue to write however you’re inspired, but add a tag to the beginning of your post if there’s mature content in order to keep Picture it & Write an engaging event for all of our followers.

dark-allyway

Two girls walk around the neighborhood at night. A man steps around the corner.

Threat detected! Threat detected! One of the girls goes on high alert. The hairs on her arms stand up straight and she moves her hand to the gun concealed in her hoodie.

The second girl sees the same man, but it takes her several seconds longer. She straightens and smiles. Do you have a puppy?

Eliabeth Hawthorne

Everyone is welcome to use the button, just link them back to the Picture it & Write category or Ermiliablog:) Share your love for Picture it & write on your blog with the image below. Be proud, and stylish ;) !

Photobucket

Book Review: If I Stay by Gayle Forman

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

If I Stay
If I Stay #1

by Gayle Forman

genre: literary fiction

I’m starting to think that reading books because I want to see the movie is a bad idea. It’s led me to move negative reviews than positive ones. Though it was a New Year’s resolution, I’m starting to think if I want to see the movie, I should just go see the movie.

Summary from Goodreads

If I Stay

Just listen, Adam says with a voice that sounds like shrapnel.

I open my eyes wide now.
I sit up as much as I can.
And I listen.

Stay, he says.

Choices. Seventeen-year-old Mia is faced with some tough ones: Stay true to her first love—music—even if it means losing her boyfriend and leaving her family and friends behind?

Then one February morning Mia goes for a drive with her family, and in an instant, everything changes. Suddenly, all the choices are gone, except one. And it’s the only one that matters.

If I Stay is a heartachingly beautiful book about the power of love, the true meaning of family, and the choices we all make.

Continue reading

Blind Sight: Aniela (Coming Soon)

Due to an unfortunate incident with my laptop involving it giving me a blue middle finger, we will start posting Aniela’s volume of Blind Sight next week. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading Leocardo’s side as he tried to figure out why his blind little sister could suddenly draw. Blind Sight Through the Eyes of Aniela Dawson is the same story, but through the point of view of Odette’s friend.

Whose eyes will you read through?

__picture it & write

Tags

, , , , ,

I urge people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (provide a translation please :) ). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook and Pinterest.

Please continue to write however you’re inspired, but add a tag to the beginning of your post if there’s mature content in order to keep Picture it & Write an engaging event for all of our followers.

Sculpture by Mark Newman

Sculpture by Mark Newman

I froze. My eyes ran up the stone sculpture, absorbing the woman’s features. I stared at her nose, her eyes, her lips, her curly hair. She… She…

“Miss Harley says we have free time to wander the museum.”

“How long?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the sculpture.

“I think twenty minutes. Want to see the Picasso exhibition?”

I shook my head. “I’m going to stay here.”

“For twenty minutes?”

“Yeah.”

My friend paused and then left. I stepped closer to the sculpture and inspected the way her hair had been sculpted. Her hair was just like my hair. She had my features. She was the first time I had ever seen my race in a classical stone sculpture. I knew in that moment what my next art project was going to be. I would honor the beauty of my features, my bloodline, in stone.

– Ermisenda Alvarez Continue reading

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,762 other followers