exercise

[wildsweetone]

if you're bored, try this:

Describe one of the following without using the sense of sight.

- a gambler
- a beach scene
- chocolate cake
- an elderly man
- a young woman

 

[cherrylips_au]

His unsteady gait could be heard as he moved across the room. Shuffling as he bumped against the wall. Mubbling under his breath about his clumsiness.

As he drew closer he presence was announced by a mixture of Old Spice, mustiness and disinfectant that seemed to surround older people, maybe it was just the nursing home that I could smell.

I heard the wind rush out his mouth as he grunted into the chair next to mine. His old body greatful for the rest. As his hand took mine I raise it to my cheek. The wrinkled prune like digits took me back to when I was younger curled in his lap, the centre of my universe.

As his gravelled voiced barely whispered my name, a tear ran silently down my face.
I wondered how many more visits we would share.

 

[Just-Legal]

Hmmm...

Thats hard!

*wanders off to cook something up for it*

 

[wildsweetone]

cherrylips_au, I liked your piece very much. I have a vivid picture of the old man. Is he somebody real in your life?

Just_legal, do come back when you get the chance. I look forward to reading your work.

 

[batchman]

A happy old man

(I was going to post my gambler description but as it's melancholy, I post a happy one first.)

Click shuffle shuffle, click shuffle shuffle, click shuffle shuffle. Despite needing the cane to keep himself standing, there was a lightness in his steps that muted the normally heavy plodding of his feet. The fresh scent of the barber's powder mingled with the crisp smell of his aftershave and the rich, hunger-inducing aroma of the box of chocolates he carried.

The lightness in his voice as talked to the barber couldn't quite hide the quiver of excitement at his upcoming meeting. He filled the room with his rich, deep laughter that befit a much younger man. As he left the shop he gave a contented sigh that mixed joy and love in equal measure.

Yes, Charlie had a girlfriend.

 

[wildsweetone]

batchman Hi and welcome to Litland, enjoy your stay! I love your writing. I can visualise this scene.

Please post your gambler, I'd like to read it.

 

[Just_John1]

The beach

The cool moist breeze coated her lips with the tangy taste of salt, the angry repetitive rolling booms of the waves trying to force the volcanic rocks into submission on either side of her to the accompanyment of the more sedate sound of the rushing water caressing the sand, smoothing its surface and sizzling as the water retreated after each wave. she could smell the aroma of the freshly uncovered silt left bare by the ebbing tide that is unique to where the sea meets the shore. The sand was cold beneath her feet, having lost the heat of the day with the approaching absorbent blanket of night.

Oh well... I tried...

JJ1

 

[NorthwestRain]

*The calloused hand clenched tight over my mouth reeked of cigarette butts, beer and the acrid bite of wasted coins.

*Warm sand cushioned her dainty feet, punctuated by sharp little shells, and the knowledge that the salty water was only footsteps away.

*It crumbled into liquor soaked, cocoa drenched goodness, satiating the tongue with each delightful bite.

*"I'm seeing a man. An older man. Did you recently lose someone close to you. Was he am elderly man? He's sending a message, hang on... Wait for it..."

*The blind man heard the rasp on leather of a young womans ass as she slipped across the seat and breathed chardonnay breath onto his face."Lookin' for a good time?"

(I really was bored!)

 

[cherrylips_au]

cherrylips_au, I liked your piece very much. I have a vivid picture of the old man. Is he somebody real in your life?

Just_legal, do come back when you get the chance. I look forward to reading your work.

Thanks for the encouragement wildsweetone.

When writing the piece it became a mixture of my grandfather and my husband's grandfather yet neither one fully. They we both important to me and I have found memories.

I glad others have embraced the exercise to and I'll try to do all the others as well.

 

[wildsweetone]

JJ1 - you tried and you suceeded. well done try another if you like

NorthWestRain, now i really like the first three, actually i like them all. good ways of interpreting description. but i think that the elderly man piece is still using sight. i am not sure that what you've said in your last piece is clearly indicative of a young woman. just because she is wearing leather doesn't mean she's young, nor that chardonnay is only a young woman's drink... am i right? i'm not sure, and open to discussion (oops apart from being offline over my weekend) - i'm still learning myself

cherrylips, obviously it pays to write what you know

i hope you all enjoyed playing around with them

 

[PoliteSuccubus]

The cries of gulls had quieted, but the restless rumble of the sea remained. She had stayed to long she knew, the warmth of the sun against her skin had cooled, and the breeze which had been welcomed earlier now robbed her skin of heat.

Still she did not rise. Beneath her back the sand was still warm, and the other sun bathers were packing up their loud children and shutting off their clashing music boxes.

Sunset was for lovers walking hand in hand along the receeding tide, but as darknesses chill crept over her even they left. She'd have a little time left before the beach bums came with their bonfires and gitars and puking in the dunes.

She lay on the cooling sand, which now was leeching heat from her body instead of provideing it, and allowed the meloncolchy that had bothered her the last few days leech away with it. In a few hours the sea would creep up and suck all her sadness into itself.

At peace now, she finally rose and gathered her things and returned to a life more complicated.

 

[wildsweetone]

PoliteSuccubus, wow i like your piece very much. i can visualise it, well done i hope you enjoyed writing it.

i woke at midnight and played around with this. i apologise in advance. lol

***
Her cane tapped the aisle sides as she made her way along the packed bus.

“Sit here dear,” his warm voice welcomed her.

“Thank you.”

The crack in the vinyl seat scratched the skin just below her skirt hem as she sat. Used mothballs and stale smoke rose in the air stinging her nostrils as he shifted across. A wrenched groan torn from his body had her turning in the seat toward him.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine m’dear. Just a twinge in the back,” he sniffed, then swallowed.

Lavender! He recalled the scent from youthful days misspent in his mother’s garden and grinned.

“Oh. Well, I hope it’s not too bad.” She smiled, then folded the white stick into itself and held it still in her lap.

“Do you have far to…” his coughing spasm shook the entire seat. She tried not to cringe as she felt him hock up half a piano beside her.

“Do you have … far to go?” he managed to gasp, as he spat into what she hoped was his hanky. The small thud indicated it was the bus floor instead.

“No, not far.” Thank God, she thought as he coughed again. This time something wet landed on her bare leg. She grimaced, the lunch contents of her stomach somersaulting.

“Sorry, I’ll get that,” he wiped her leg with a dry scratchy rag, smearing the sticky wetness further.

“Don’t!” She pushed him, her hands landing against cold smooth material. Startled, she pulled them away. Satin? Whoa this guy’s weird. Whoever heard of a man wearing satin in the middle of the afternoon?

Excited bouncing emanated from the seat behind them.

“Ha Ha! She touched him! I told ya she’d do it! Gimme my ten bucks!” the elated “Yes!” that followed came with a gleeful punch against the back of the seat causing the man to begin his coughing fit anew.

Moments later the door hissed behind her and her summer shoes crunched gritty sand on the concreted path and the wild westerly wind grabbed her hair whipping the tips against her face. The salty sting tightened her skin as her stick sank into the deep sand.

A group of children shouted to each other and splashed around at the water’s edge. Any unpleasantness from the short bus journey always dissipated when she took off her shoes and waded to knee depth in the icy water. This time was no exception.

***

 

[DVS]

OK, OK! I got carried away and used the sense of sight. Who gives a shit? These "exercises" make my head hurt. Don't likem!


Describe one of the following without using the sense of sight.

- an elderly man
- a gambler
- a young woman

He had a slow walk, his shoes making an irregular shuffle as he walked across the porch. Then, silence before the familiar creaking of his rocking chair. He sighed in relief, his tired body finally at rest in his favorite chair.

He spoke as if 100 years of experience was in his sole. A voice of gravel and spit, yet still full of spirit, when he talked of a life gone by.

"I remember back when" he began,"it was just me and my gal, Rosie. We were quite the couple. I made a livin' playing cards, and she kept me honest. Yesser, those were the days."

The chair creaked and he cleared his throat, then the sounds of a match striking and the smell of sulfur in the air. Sounds of his puffing and the aroma of tobacco soon filled my nose. I still remembered that smell, from when I was a boy.

"Yesser, she was the most beautiful gal around. At first, I didn't think I had a chance with her, but then she warmed up to me so I took a chance. We were together for 56 years, before she caught the fever. Back then, we didn't have the medicines they have today, I watched her slowly fade away. Lost a lot of good folks, we did. A lot of good folks."

Another match strikes and he puffs some more. "Never been able to keep this thing goin'. A little like me, I guess. I ain't goin' as well, these days, either."

The chair started a repeated creaking, and I knew he must now be rocking.
"Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, my Rosie..."

"She was really somethin' when she was a young woman. She could turn the heads of many a men, let me tell you. She smelled of lilacs and had looks from heaven. Eyes blue and sparklin' as the morning sky and golden blonde hair that flowed in the summer's afternoon breeze. That was my Rosie.

She kept me in line. Down to earth, she was. Really had a head on her, if you know what I mean. She knew my card playin' could get me into a fix, now and then, and she was always there to pick me up.

Don't know what she saw in me, for all the trouble I was. Oh, she said it was my dark wavy hair I had back then, and the lambchops. I smoked big stogies and she liked to light 'em for me. Never understood that, 'cause most ladies didn't like 'em. Not my Rosie. She was quite a gal.

I remember one time I was playin' a game, and one guy thought I was a cheatin'. Wasn't, you know, but he didn't want to hear that. Drunk, I think he was. Yesser, good thing, too! He was goin' for that little derringer he had and Rosie picked me up and we made it out the back before he could even get it out his vest pocket.

We did hear a shot after we were well away, but don't know where it hit. Wouldn't been smart to go back, you see. Still wonder where I'd be, if Rosie hadn't been there. Might have been that shot got me, if she weren't there.

I miss her, you know. Miss her more than life, I do. There ain't another who could carry her name. She was my heart. She was my sole."

He didn't say another word. It was as if he had said all there was to say. He just continued to rock in that chair. Another match flared, followed by his puffing on that pipe.

Breaking the silence he mumbled under his breath, "Never been able to keep this dang thing goin'. Never have."

 

[SlaveMasterUK]

A young woman..?

Sorry for the length of this post, but I simply refuse to do anything normally.

--------------------
I heard a sound, and instinctively turned my head towards it, confusing myself for a moment. My heart began to pound again, maybe from excitement, maybe fear, probably both. It would be wrong to say this sort of thing doesn't excite me, but I usually prefer to be on the other side of the table, so to speak.

The sound of the door opening, soft footsteps, door closing again. Click; that was be the key in the lock. Soft footsteps - audible on the cold hard floor - bore down on me. I heard the quiet pads slowly creep around the side of the bed, and again I turned my head as if I could see. Stupid.

A soft whisper in my ear made me jump, reminding me of the tight wires around my wrists. I tried to identify the voice, but it was so soft I couldn't even understand the words; just harsh syllables. I had a feeling that whoever was with me wanted me to be afraid, and it was working.

The bed rocked slightly as the person climbed aboard and I felt my body sinking into the mattress as her weight landed either side of me. Yes, I had expected a woman but now I knew for sure: the smoothness of her bare thighs on my hips, and her light weight. I felt momentarily disoriented as the woman's hands pressed into the mattress right under my armpits, making me sink backwards and stretching the already tight wires cutting into my wrists.

Two points of soft warmth touched my chest and dragged slowly upwards; her nipples, firm against mine. They pressed into me as she bent over; her sweet breath breezed across my face.

I felt soft curly hair land on my right shoulder, and her voice was in my ear again, whispering quietly yet harshly, full of anger. I only understood the last three words, "make you beg" before her weight shifted back and I felt her thighs and ass on my hips.

Slender fingertips touched my chest and finally I wished she would take the blindfold off so I could see her. I could feel her ass, soft and round across my hips; her legs were slender and firm against my side as she massaged my chest.

Gradually I felt her palms touch my skin, and suddenly became aware of a cold, hard point on her left hand: a smooth line of metal that ran the length of her little finger: a slave-bar. MY slave-bar. My heart rose and stuck my throat; I knew who she was.

She must have noticed my realisation because she stopped her massage and sat perfectly still, adding to the sudden anticipation in me. "You remember me now, don't you?" She said softly, her voice just as girlish as it was those eight long years ago, when I had been powerful and she had been homeless, and I had claimed her as my slave.

How many times have I tried to forget? I said in my mind. How many times had I remembered and tried to forget those years, and all the torment I caused, to her more so than any other innocent soul I had harmed during my reign.

"Still silent?" She spoke again, her voice still bubbling with the innocence of youth. Damn, what did I do to her? If only there was some way I could tell her how sorry I was, for how long I had hurt trying to comprehend it all. "I think I can make you talk. Or make you beg."

I felt my blood bubble in my veins as her slender body laid fully against mine and her soft lips met my chin. Maybe I was getting what I deserved, but this was not going to be pleasant.
--------------------

ax

DAMN I'm going to have to write the goddam whole story now...

 

[wildsweetone]

well you two sure put me to shame!

DVS, I was right there sitting on that porch listening to the old man. I smelt his pipe, (my own grandfather used to smoke one oh so many years ago, I'll never forget the distinctive smell) and I heard the chair rocking. Thank you for posting.

SlaveMasterUK, you sure are going to have to write the rest of this story. rofl Let me know when you've submitted it, I'm sitting on the edge of my seat in anticipation! Great idea dear! And yes, I do get the impression of a young woman, mainly from your description of her body. Well done

 

[NorthwestRain]

WSO, you're right about the young woman, but the old man was meant to be that John Edwards, crossing over idiot using his ESP or whatever to talk to dead people.

 

[wildsweetone]

WSO, you're right about the young woman, but the old man was meant to be that John Edwards, crossing over idiot using his ESP or whatever to talk to dead people.

original piece:

*"I'm seeing a man. An older man. Did you recently lose someone close to you. Was he am elderly man? He's sending a message, hang on... Wait for it..."

i understand, and i'm not 100% sure about this... sticking to my guns though. i think John Edwards is using 'sight' - as in eyesight - to describe who he can see. geez, that's an awkward arse about face way of saying things.

my reason is that you've told me, not shown me what the man looks like. he's an 'older man'. i think to exclude the sense of 'sight' we have to describe our character.

does that make any sense to you? please ask me more, the more you ask the better i can define my answers so they make sense lol