Super difficult and in my eyes a total failure when it comes to following the prompt rules. I will be attempting it again (probably twice one to get a handle on it and once to fulfill my stylistic idea around it).
My biggest problems? I found it hard to get the colour word in the first sentence because I felt the need to set it up too much. The colour didn't become the paragraph I simply used it in the writing.
Finally, dialogue! it was very difficult but it really made my brain work. I find I rely too much on dialogue in general but because with each new paragraph I had to start a new colour I had to stay away from it. It also forced me to try my hand at indirect dialogue a little bit (a very little bit, I would like to try this out a little bit more) which was interesting and really stretched the boundaries of my usual style.
The Prompt/ Exercise: Write a short story where the first sentence of every paragraph includes a colour word. You may only use the word once throughout the paragraph but should allude to the colour as much as possible.
Get Out; Get Away
Decemeber 2013
Jerrica Black
Outside was black,
dark as night. Cloud covered the shining stars and moon it was calm, still. I
stepped out the door into the frigid cold. Something rustled in the bushes next
to me and I jumped. I looked and saw nothing but two glowing eyes. It was far too
dark but nothing but I had to go. I had to get out.
My phone vibrated,
I pulled it out and its blue screen lit up the street around me. It reminded me
of how I felt; not only the solemn colour but the subject of the message. “How
are you?” How am I? Where do I start?
I looked at my red hands; it’s too cold to text now,
he’ll have to wait. My hands and face burned. Why’d I leave the house without
my gloves and hat? My blood is cold; it’s not helping to warm my hands. I
should get inside soon.
After a few more minutes I arrived at my favourite
place in the city; I walked up and opened the large green door. Inside plants
dangles from the ceiling and climbed the walls, they sprawled across the floor.
Some of the flowers had bloomed since I had last been here. I felt a little
more at ease here, a little more at home.
I took my phone out again as Pricilla entered the
room in her white coat. She was clearly startled by my presence so late at night;
her face had drained of colour. I apologized. “It’s always a pleasure to see
you. Rough night?” I nodded. She knew how things were going. I decided to reply
to the text from Isaak. “I’ll go make us some tea," she said leaving the
room. Shitty, was the only thing I could
think to type, so that’s what I typed.
Pricilla returned
with a china tea set patterned with twigs and leaves, she poured the warm,
brown tea into cups for us. It felt nice to be warm again. I joined her sitting
on the wooden chair next to her. She put her hand on my shoulder. There was
nothing she could say to make me feel better; she knew that, but her warm touch
more than any words ever could.
The door flew open
letting the pale yellow light of the street lamp in. Pricilla and I jumped as
the cold air hit us and the door crashed open. Isaak burst in. I looked up
incredulously I started to ask how he knew I was here but he cut me off running
over and embracing me in his strong arms. “I went to your house and they said
you’d gone for a walk. I hoped you were here, I didn’t know where else to look.
I’m so glad you’re here. Are you okay?” I couldn’t speak through the lump in my
throat but I nodded against his chest as the tears began to roll down my cheek.
He pushed me back
and his orange gloved hand reached up to wipe my tears away, cupped my cheek. I
rested my hand against it closing my eyes. I knew I looked terrible and this thought
hit me suddenly. I turned away suddenly trying to wipe away my running mascara.
I tried to fix my frizzy hair. I fussed with my shirt. He just came up behind
me, grabbed my shoulder and whispered into my ear, “Stop it. You look beautiful.”
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