KindredFlame
Lustful Libertine
- Joined
- Jan 27, 2019
- Posts
- 578
Just for a bit of fun, and mabe create some good storylines I was thinking of taking the opening verse of a song and seeing if it could become a story other than the original song itself self.
For example
Hello darkness my old friend, I have come to talk with you again.
Sounds of silence by Simon and Garfunkel.
Now is it possible to make a story from just that one sentence? It’s about 600 words but could be expanded Ito something greater?
Anymore one else have an idea like this?
"Hello darkness my old friend, I have come to talk with you again."
The whispered words were a shiver in the cold, damp air, barely audible above the distant groan of the city. Emily, eighteen years old and wearing a threadbare coat that offered little protection against the biting wind, hunched deeper into the alcove of a derelict butcher shop. Two weeks. Two weeks since her mother’s door had slammed shut, ejecting her into the indifferent maw of the streets. The darkness, initially a shroud of shame, had become her only confidante, a vast, starless ceiling to her newfound, terrifying solitude.
... [edited= not the place for a story draft]
Emily looked into his eyes, and saw not kindness, but a vast, cold emptiness, a dark pleasure simmering beneath the surface. The realization hit her with sickening force. Her old friend, the comforting darkness, had led her here tonight, not to solace, but to a silent, terrible meeting. And this time, it was not for talking.
For example
Hello darkness my old friend, I have come to talk with you again.
Sounds of silence by Simon and Garfunkel.
Now is it possible to make a story from just that one sentence? It’s about 600 words but could be expanded Ito something greater?
Anymore one else have an idea like this?
"Hello darkness my old friend, I have come to talk with you again."
The whispered words were a shiver in the cold, damp air, barely audible above the distant groan of the city. Emily, eighteen years old and wearing a threadbare coat that offered little protection against the biting wind, hunched deeper into the alcove of a derelict butcher shop. Two weeks. Two weeks since her mother’s door had slammed shut, ejecting her into the indifferent maw of the streets. The darkness, initially a shroud of shame, had become her only confidante, a vast, starless ceiling to her newfound, terrifying solitude.
... [edited= not the place for a story draft]
Emily looked into his eyes, and saw not kindness, but a vast, cold emptiness, a dark pleasure simmering beneath the surface. The realization hit her with sickening force. Her old friend, the comforting darkness, had led her here tonight, not to solace, but to a silent, terrible meeting. And this time, it was not for talking.
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