Day 4 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Have a character describe the person they admire most using all, or mostly, similes and metaphors.
Erin: The subway was where I always saw him.
He was a photograph. The picture was of a laughing baby. The print displayed lovingly on a grandmother’s wall would be no less uplifting placed on the top of a landfill. No matter what photographs were next to that one in the album, the giggling baby wouldn’t change. The baby’s dimples were permanent. He was a photograph.
I was the weather. Yesterday was gray. Today was meant to be dry, but my sopping socks proved the weatherman wrong. Tomorrow’s sky would most likely be clouded, but a ray of light could peak through. If I could be a photograph of the sun I would. I wished my forecast was forever filled with rainbows. Except, rainbows only came after the rain. I was the weather.
My favorite photograph blew out the door, but I wasn’t worried. It would be displayed in the same spot the next day. If my forecast was correct, I would be there to study the picture once again. If we were both prints we could be displayed together, but I wasn’t. I was the weather and I would not dare get too close to a photograph. Depending on the day my touch could fade the color, waterlog the paper, or blow it away to another city. Weather could ruin a perfect picture.
Shannon: When I’d first met her I was skeptical a person so flawless could exist. I soon learned there was nothing to question. She was hopelessly herself, and I admired almost every aspect of her. Everyone in her presence felt lucky to be sprinkled with just one measly flake of her fearless, because spending time with her was the closest most of us would ever get to flying without needing wings. She wasn’t just an adrenaline rush, but the best friend a person could have. Her kindness offered the same comfort as a mother’s hug. She was as trustworthy as loyal sidekick, and as encouraging as a number one fan. When she moved away I swear the world lost my favorite color.
If you got this far, thanks, and leave your response or prompt ideas in the comments!
I don’t even know where to start so I guess I gotta just say everything I’ve never said.
I’m gonna start with your caramel hair that’s always adorable no matter how you wear it. Your eyes, with that shimmer even in the dead of night, are that emerald green that suck you in with one look. Just that smile that makes you look like you won the lottery every time you look at me. Your style; you always look like you’ve walk off a runway with your dresses and blouses even if you always say you get them second-hand from your cousin. You are like a ray of sunshine in a dark and dreary world.
Then there’s your personality; you’re more loyal than a litter of golden retrievers, you’re as generous as someone who knows what it’s like to have nothing and you look in people’s hearts like an x-ray. You’re like an angel. You don’t need to have extra on your plate to share. You’re too amazing to express.
You’re as graceful as a swan in dance and gymnastics. When you play sports you’re like a lioness; you’re powerful and terrifying. You’re cunning as a fox when you play chess.
You’re my heart and soul. I’m never gonna find someone who fits together with my puzzle piece like you do. So, now that I’m in tears, I guess I just really wanna say good luck with university and I hope we cross paths again.
Love you always,
The light rapt on the workshops metallic door tore Jonick out of his concentration. The low melodious hum of the neutronic engines purred with a sensual pulsation. He stepped up from his cluttered desk and clicked the faded emerald button, the paint marred by greasy oil stained hands. The door snappily hissed open as a lanky boy whipped his hand back in surprise. Jonick cranked open a wide smile. “Fishel! what are you doing up so late?” His telescopic eye piece whirled and rotating, it’s green aperture tightening to a pinprick and expanding to the size of a golf ball and then back again.
“uhh…” Fishel watched the mechanical appendage whirling, a bewildering sense of awe and restrained horror as he mouthed the words but his voice trailing off.
“What? Speak up!” He playfully nudged Fishel’s shoulder with his unaugment right hand. “Never seen a Logistica Mark 1 Cranium Aperture funnel before?”
“Wh-wh-what?” Fishel stammered.
“Artificial Telescopic lens?” Jonick stated plainly. His mood devaluating.
Fishel shook his head quickly.
Jonick shrugged, regaining much of previous levels of optimism. “Ah, you’ll get used to it.”
Jonick walked back to his cluttered work bench, leaning back a over a mechanical monster claw roughly the size of a gauntlet. Fishel cautiously stepped inside. “Uhm…so what are you working on?”
“OH? You mean this?” Jonick lifted the gauntlet to show. “One of my latest pet projects. A homebrew Crane claw for heavy lifting, punching, slashing, eviscerating and carving a couple some of the problems we deal with.” He shot off each bullet point with augmented left hand with a flick of each of his fingers, counting them. “But mostly just lifting them. Why do you ask?”
Fishel timidly looked at the contraption shaking his head. “I, I was just curious. I was wondering about the captain.”
“Oh.” Jonick stopped. His voice lowering several decibels to a lame whisper. His telescopic eye piece gradually retracting as a hushed click dully sounded. It rotated forwards slowly to a needle’s point. His marsh water blue eye searching some imaginary room dully “Has he scared you?”
The boy nodded.
Jonick quietly breathed through his nose. “He simply testing you. Seeing how well you can handle the venom of being under pressure.” He leaned over and dragged a stool from the back. “Sit with me, I need to think of a good way of explaining it.” Fishel sat on the stool, awkwardly trying to sit on the unfurnished furniture. He started. “Captain Desterhan isn’t the kind of animal to let others suggest things for him. I’ve seen too many hot shots overestimate him and got stung.”
Fishel interjected. “So, he’s just a bit of a jerk?”
“I wouldn’t call him a jerk, just a hardass.” Jonick shook his head. “He may be colder than a damn ice moons but get to know him and that exterior will melt away.” Jonick idly took a spare cog toyed with it. “Just don’t fuck with him and you won’t be feeling his sting.”
Fishel listened. “Right. Don’t mess with him.”
Jonick nodded. “I’ve been with him since we started this enterprise. We have our differences but we know how to work together. He’s like one of those arid world scorpions that strike without warning. Once an idea cements it’s self, only the wrath of hell can tear it out of him.” He put the cog back. “He’s the rope that keeps you from falling off the cliff when you need it the most, something to keep you hanging on. That’s why we follow him in the end: he’s kept us from meeting the dead man’s abyss.”
“I guess that helps somewhat.” Fishel thoughtfully leaned back. “Though I don’t really have much of choice in the matter.”
“If he thought you weren’t fit for this crew he would have left you back home and looked for someone else.” Jonick said. “And believe me, you have all the choice you need. If you think your not up for it, the Captain will listen to you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because, I just know. Perhaps you should get some sleep?”
Fishel got up from the chair. “It’s pretty late then huh?”
Jonick chuckled. “Very late. First watch starts in two hours. Get back to your bunk. That’s an order.” He half mockingly pointed towards the door. “Seriously, you can’t sleep on 4 and half hours.”
Fishel walked out before turning back to face Jonick. “But what about you?”
Jonick smirked, lifting the right end of his lip three centimeters up. “Nothing about right now, go to bed Fishel.”
Fishel shrugged, smiling and giving a quick salute before walking back to his bunk. The door snapped back shut with a hushed hum.
saturday, 2nd december 2017
similes and metaphors.
the person i admire the most.
he. he is my knight in shining armour. he is a rough diamond. a shoulder to cry on. as bright as a button. he is the gigantic teddy bear you always want to hug when you’re afraid. he provides you the same feeling of feet in warm sand and hands on cold sea. his voice is like honey and his smile could distract the devil himself. the boy is definitely a loaded gun. the rustle of his body is the sound of a typewriter, is the sound and hustle of a city. his touch feels like the heat of coffee through a mug. his eyes are stars on a clear summer night. and loving him is singing holiday songs in summer.
he grew roses in my lungs everyday we were together. but now, the thorns are splintering my chest.
Still a little late, but better late than never, right?
This is my OC Josh talking about his best friend, Heather (I’ve used her here before.)
Created to Write: In a word, she’s a wolf. A word can hardly describe her, but this comes close. Wolves are loners. She’s a loner by not having a pack she belongs to. She moves without leaving, being without participating, and feels as though she doesn’t fully belong.
Wolves howl, not at the moon, but to celebrate, or to call to others. She too is called, not toward a wolfish howl, but sweet music of her own instrument.
Wolves are pack animals. And she holds her pack close, but at a distance. Not those she leads, but those under her wing, behind her paws. Half of her pack would be more likely to protect her than vice versa.
But she is a wolf; loyal, fierce, independent, and unrestrained. She may be considered a tiger, unafraid to get her feet wet. She could also be called a lion, standing up for what she holds close.
But I call her a wolf, for you can find lions and tigers in a circus…
But a wolf can never be tamed. You may gain its trust, but it won’t give up its freedom.
(There it is! What do you think?)
I think something is wrong with my school chromebook so I can’t post these the day that Im done…. Thinking about doing more today.
Clay_is_number_one: I know you’re asleep but I’m awake so I wanted to text you.
Clay_is_number_one:Thankfully you keep your phone in a separate room so this won’t wake you.
Clay_is_number_one: I wanted to tell you that the day I met you was the day I won the lottery. You are as kind as a grandma with a pan of cookies and as loyal as a dog you raised from a pup.
Clay_is_number_one: You don’t always see your beauty, it’s like a waterfall hidden by a blanket of fog that only you can see. Everyone else sees the waterfall clear as day. You create rainbows all around you. Its as striking as a color pictuer among a bunch of black and white ones.
Clay_is_number_one: I know you want to stay friends and I’m okay with that. I really am, I’m not bitter, I just want you to know I will be here for you.
Clay_is_number_one: I should probably go to bed now but I can’t get you out of my head. You’re like a song that gets stuck in my head with one exception. I can’t wait till I hear from you again.