W.O.R.D. - Prompts, Sharing, and Feedback (OOC) Club

Sometimes I wish I was inside those fiction books
Where I know every tear I shed will be worth the pain
But now I feel like a hitchhiker
Standing on the side of the road
No one is pulling over
Am I living in such a convoluted world?
Where the liars come out from their hiding
Pointing fingers like barbarians
Whatever I do and don’t do
I cannot change that, can I?
So I lay in this tapestry
Trying to accept what comes to me
But when I look into the starry void
I cannot help but think
What happened when the time is over?
Will we fly high to the sky
Or be buried under the pavement?

@Ashley Coulson That was so sadddddddddd.... It was beautifully written, i loveee every parts of it but especially 'when you looked up, into a sky woven, with memories, and welded together, with stars'. I can feel the hurt of losing someone in your poem, brb i'm wiping my tear

@Lillian Davis I kind of feel like your poem was about your inner self begging to be heard and it was written so gooddd! It gradually changing from the sky, sun which don't make literal sound (well, they do, but i don't know how they sounds like haha), to something more obvious like a clock. Then, it ended with 'do you hear your song'. Love it so muchh!!!

@Gabriella Haworth Congratulation, you just ripped by heart . 'see you throught the misty glass' 'Hundred years but only fifty yards'. What i could imagine is a scene in a hospital. You did greattt!!

@Lucia Fox MY GOD! a masterpiece haha omg i have no word. These 2 parts are my fav! 'Some people say That they saw the winds And they stole their hearts And their souls And left them wild' and 'And if that means Going so far that I would become a monster As some people say Then I do not care'.

@Anja Murtaja Short but so meaningful. And you did great with the rhyming! right, one, while.. My favourite part is this one 'I’ve spoken a a thousand things And known all there is to know. Yet I’ve knelt at the feet of wiser goddesses And run from feeling too.'
why is it me haha. You did great!

@Aurora Ranvier, that was lovely. I liked how your piece told a story in almost a prose-like, pondering way and the last lines What happened when the time is over?/Will we fly high to the sky/Or be buried under the pavement? quite honestly took my breath away.

Everyone, there is no rush at all to share or finish your pieces. Even after a new prompt is posted today, you are welcome to share your pieces from past writings here.

Hey everyone! This week's prompt is anthropomorphism, which is like personification (attributing human traits to a non-human being or object) only it takes things a bit farther. The official definition of anthropomorphism that I found sounds way too much like the one for personification, so I'm not going to tell it to you. What it essentially means is making a character out of a non-human entity (i.e. a bunny rabbit or a clock) and giving it its own consciousness and personality, etc. Some famous examples of anthropomorphism include Winnie the Pooh, the Little Engine that Could, and Simba from the movie The Lion King. So:

Personification: "The kettle whistled."

Anthropomorphism: The kettle eyed me suspiciously, and said, "Shouldn't you be at the dentist already?"*

Now, finally, to the prompt:
Pick a nonhuman object, write a poem, short-story, or piece of prose about it using anthropomorphism, and that's it! As always, the choice to share is entirely your own, though we hope you will, you're all such great writers! Bye for now,
Calypso

Interacting with W.O.R.D. members

The girl was exhausted. It had been a long day, and the only thing she wanted to do was fall into bed. She was about to, but just before she could land face-first in her pillow, she heard a disembodied voice. In her shock, she tumbled backwards, and she rubbed the back of her head. Where was that voice coming from? She looked around, and heard it again.

"Psst! Over here!"

It seemed to be coming from her bed. But that couldn't be true, it was a bed! Beds didn't talk! But hers seemed to be, based on the fact that there was a spew of words that were definitely growing louder.

"Over heeeere! Hey! Not there, here!"

The girl's mouth fell open. "What?" was the only thing she managed to say. She could somehow sense the disapproval wafting off the bed in waves. "You are waaay too violent. You keep jumping on top of me like a ton of bricks! It is not pleasant, you know. I have feelings."

The girl's eyes widened in silent fury. Violent? A ton of bricks? What was this thing going on about? She was a perfectly gentle, average weight girl. She put one hand on her hip. "Yes, I'm sure you have very deep and profound feelings, but I really must be getting to sleep." she said. With that, she threw herself onto the bed with all her might. "Aaargh! What was that for??" the bed demanded. The girl didn't answer, instead crossing her arms and smirking. She wrapped herself up into her blanket like a burrito. She was comfy, cozy, and, most importantly, practically asleep, when she felt a giant heave, and she was suddenly hurtling threw the air like a missile. She slammed into the closet door and slid down. The bed was radiating smugness.

"Hmph!" the girl said. She hoisted her blanket onto her shoulders, and once again threw herself onto the bed. It threw her off. She got back in. It threw her off.

Eventually, she started getting really exhausted. She decided to try a new strategy, since this one obviously wasn't working. She very, very carefully slid into the bed. She wasn't immediately thrown off, which was a good sign. She closed her eyes, and laid her head down onto the pillow. The bed seemed to settle into a restful sleep, and it was finally peaceful.

Word Count: 397

THE COAT HANGER

They used to hang in front of me, and behind me too. Side by side on rungs too high for the little one to reach. I'm sure by now they're all gone to the sands of time, like the paint on the walls and lacquer on the doors. The rung creaks now, in the wind. Or maybe it's me swinging at my melancholy pace, the metal of my hook squealing against the metal of the rung. I remember a time when we all squealed, but back then we were together, and that was where we belonged.

But now I'm all alone, squealing to my own sad little tune, all my neighbors lost or ground to dust. Yet I've never felt like I belonged more than now. My wood is chipped and greying, the gold leaf inlays flaking. I fit perfectly with the run-down splendor of the once extravagant apartment, whose gaudy curtains flutter in the wind and hang heavy with the rain that patters through the broken windows.

I hang alone, squealing on my single, creaky rung, in the old, creaky building. They say it's to be demolished soon. I overheard them one day, talking quietly as if afraid to hurt my feelings. Then again, it might just be my imagination, driving me crazy on my single, creaky rung. I'd say my friends would vouch for me, but I have no clue as to where they might have gone. Some days it seems as if I can see them, hanging on many shiny, soundless rungs. But then a breath of air will drive through the empty window and make me swing. My arms will shatter the illusion like a thousand pieces of glass, and all that will be left is me, squealing on my single, creaky rung.

It's dark in the old apartment now. I've stopped on my rung for the night, and the chill winds have turned in. I've known many things in my long, long life — fur as soft as a caress of a summer breeze, or as coarse as the bite of a winter gale. Leather as smooth as a moonlit pond, or as rough as the choppy seas. Despite all my experience, I still don't understand quite what my purpose is. I suppose that's why I think I am part of this old apartment, squealing on my single, creaky rung. We are all alone in our own decrepit ways, and that's what truly makes us belong.

Word Count: 410

Reducio

*Tries to shake the depressing writingitus* Sorry for yet another dark thingy, but I wrote this a while back to get my creativity going and thought it would be perfect for this

@Amethyst Logan This is so funny! I love the personality of the bed and the throwing of people

@Amethyst Logan your piece was so funny/cute! Your narration was very witty. "She could somehow sense the disapproval wafting off the bed in waves." And the dialogue was great, too. "...It is not pleasant, you know. I have feelings." The ending was so sweet! "She closed her eyes, and laid her head down onto the pillow. The bed seemed to settle into a restful sleep, and it was finally peaceful."

@Anja Murtaja wow! Once again a melancholy, slightly depressing, yes, but beautiful piece. It's about a coat hanger, and you wouldn't expect a lot of emotion from that, but it was still quite heartbreaking.

@Calypso Starling I completely agree!
@Anja Murtaja @Amethyst Logan I really enjoyed reading both of your pieces! Very nice work.

@Eliza Corrids that was so great! Very funny and cute. Loved "The Sun waved, steam coming from it's head. It walked over to the window and jumped back into the sky." Nice job, Squiggles! May I ask why you picked that as your pen name? It seems like it could have an interesting backstory.