MS. SWEETHEART a short story by ThePrintupList- #constrainedwriting entry contest 12
Hey Steemians!
Here is my short story entry for Constrainedwriting 12 contest.
ENJOY
Painting by
ThePrintupList
2017
______MS SWEETHEART______________
Upon my arrival I sensed his disapproval. There was something wrong with tonight.The musk in the air was bitter, lacking the touch of sweetness it usually carries.
Sugar carmel apple.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes red as if he was up the night before crying. It was only 12 hours before when we last spoke.
" Hi baby, I'll see you later today? Call me"
A cold draft whispered pasted my ear , the window opened and brushing the linen curtains upon the bed. The airs howling echo of the cold mimicking my own desires from the night before. Haunting.
The sheet on the bed was taught, too perfect for his own perfection. He was beautiful, he was mine.
I walked past him and closed the window. I removed my coat dropping to the floor to reveal my white dress.
Purple stains marked the soft cotton lace that gracefully fluttered to my legs as I sat next to him.
My hands warm and stained, accented by red nails perfectly pointed, dressed in rose gold rings. Delicate.
He was naked. A lone glass sat aside of his body mocking the wine that escaped.
Wasted grape.
Little did he know how much I really cared. Placing my hand to his heart,
Chest bare, I spoke." I was always there for you....always"
Blank, no response.
Stare.
I looked at him and our eyes met. I remembered our first kiss. Joyfully capturing the bliss of spirits intertwined, in love.
A beam of light touched my face heating my cheek. As an escape I curled my body next to his; binding us and Interlocking.
My warmth kindling his lifelessness reflecting his bitter end.
Hands Shaking, I place my head in proper place.I felt beautiful, sheltered in remorse ready to flee to sleep.
Breathe heavy, spirit ready.
I pulled the trigger.
Murder Suicide.
I hate to be "copying" another person, but the "wasted grape" part was also by far my favorite. An awesome way to address wine that had been wasted. ^^
Thank you very much for your entry :D
Oh lala thank you. Good to see that drinking wine has benefitted me in more than one way. Happy you be apart of the contest. CHEERS!
my GOD @ORIGINALWORKS
Kidding of course. Go home originalworks,
oh hold on
dang girl
My favorite part was "wasted grape" (not fucking with you it sounded cool)
thanks, means a lot.. cause you know.. none wants wine to go wasted. I like playing with words and sounds of words. I like the play of color and words.
and I like the way you do it! got a very interesting rhythm, kinda reverberates between crashing and aggressive to silky and then back
Your critique is really beyond awesome to hear. Funny I pick either one of my paintings or photographs and just let the flood gates free. So the photo is really important to how I curate my thoughts. I like pauses and play on hard and soft emotional ties. Your writings are pretty fluid as well. You capture imagery and mood in bold ways.
No problem, could you elaborate a lil on how the photo and curating your thoughts? Curious.
Thanks for the kind words, funny though I always thought imagery was my glaring gap, always annoyed me because my brother is fucking unbelievable at it (wish his stubborn ass would get on here)
I guess since I consider myself a visual artist first before a writer that my words are just the narrative to the scene that the photo or painting is a part of. I take an image that I can put myself into and just write the story ( poem) that fills in the blanks. I try to envision where, what, when, and why the image exists and just go. Many of my writings happen in one take. My absolute weakness are commas and wtf to put those things. I have taken my weakness in writings and basically use it in a theatrical way. I some times think/ feel that I'm writing a monologue for a character rather than a poem or story.
What is your main focus of study? Are you a writer by trade? Just curious :)
This is so interesting, from what you describe it's like our perception and thought processes are north and south. I'm am decidedly not a visual person (currently in my bedroom, I with all honestly could not tell you what color my kitchen walls are), and when I write I don't know what it'll be until my fingers start tapping the keys, and then something comes out. Often I have no idea I hold certain views or beliefs until they come up in conversation, then from some recess of my mind will pour out a confident, resolute opinion on something I never bothered to address cognitively.
I grew up extremely isolated, essentially raised by the internet. Because all my communication and most of my observation of other's was via text not voice I guess I just instinctively picked up on shit. I read punctuation like body language, a period or lack thereof can completely change what is communicated. Ironically enough, I find this difficult to articulate lol
I'm not studying anything, I did a year of uni but I hated it. I was a carpenter for a bit, then a paramedic the past 4 years, and as of a couple months ago I am simply a guy who plays internet money games.
Aside from little dumb stories I would write to entertain people, mostly girlfriends, I actually haven't wrote anything substantial or of note since uni, 9 years ago lol. Until I got on Steem that is, it stroked my ego so I keep tapping those keys so I keep getting those strokes yo
E:oops i wrote a novella again
Great use of the constraint! Thanks for sharing!
thanks @simgirl for judging this constraint. Looking forward to future contests as well. Fingers crossed for this one!
@OriginalWorks
the fuck? (@theprintuplist posting that usually gets you a little seal and an upvote)
there we go
hahaha you call and they come. Thanks :)
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This is really good! Some fabulous imagery in here. :)
thank you. I really try to put myself in the space that I write about.