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Describe a thing

Laa

Laa

Star
Joined
Jul 18, 2013
So, I've been thinking we need more writing-oriented games! So, inspired by Gina's game, I've been thinking about getting those typing fingers going by having us all describe all sorts of things, perhaps even images and such!

Feel free to describe the thing in just about any style you want, be it poetic, a character's monologue, an objective description, etc.

Rules:
1: Write a description of the thing the person before you posted.
2: Post something you want someone else to describe.

Example:
Describe the color red.

Red is what beats within our hearts when we take our every breath. Red is the color with which passion resides, be it the red of lipsticks or the red of the very blood that runs through our veins. From times past, red was the color we wanted to see; be it a lovely fruit or a fresh, red steak. Red is a color of want, a color of need. It's a destructive fire that burns all which comes in its path and the paradoxical calm from a sun which sets. Red is that which urges us to chase, to follow our wants; to be in love with the color red, why, that is to be in love with yearning itself.

Aight! Let's get started!



I want you to describe a bakery.
 
The scent of fresh bread, flour and yeast wafted over the senses of whoever entered the small building. It was not intrusive however, the smell pleasing and welcoming alongside the warmth that filled the place from the constantly running ovens. The doors to the silver metal appliances being opened relatively often with fresh trays of baked goods being put in and taken out. Tables lined with loaves that still steamed and had a perfect golden brown crust. The whole shop front consisted of windows to let the natural light in and showcase the freshly made goods to all who passed.

I want you to describe an old, empty, dusty room. (Because who doesn't like a challenge)
 

Ennui.

That's what comes to mind immediately at least. Empty. Quiet - except for the hacking wheezes from the dust bunnies all around. How long have they been here? How long have this room been here? The decrepit wallpaper, the chipping molding... This place is old. Like, old old. Like your grandma's grandpa old. Who once lived here? What did they do to liven up this place? Who knows - because they are gone, gone like the laughter of children that once rang within these walls, gone like the clinks of glass that celebrated anniversaries and triumphs.

Gone and hopefully onto better things! But maybe not. Of the memories of who came before, only this room will ever know.


Describe your favorite kind of boy or gal. (fictional or irl idc)
 
(I like writing and games and things that are inspired by me!)

His natural state was lounged. His muscles and joints possessed the uncanny ability to abandon rigidity at any time or place. Sometimes shirted, sometimes bare, his chest always welcomed a weary head in need of rest. The coarse brown hair adorning it maintained the perfect length for finger curls. He was always reading, if not a book then his surroundings. His cobalt eyes held the same lazy focus for letters on a page as it did for physical objects in the world. When he’d inevitably go upright again, his sandy hair always matted in a unique, angular shape.


Describe the view of a forest from above.
 
The furs of fir trees flowed at the whims of the wild winds, heralding from the mountain tops who reached for the skies themselves. Air whisked through the grassy green canopy, creating waves of bright green light and dark green shade. The trees themselves were always in a struggle with their neighbors, a battle raging across seasons, limbs of trees and leaves weaving together in what might appear to be a form of unity, though that would be pure deception. The victors get to live another season. The losers will wither and die, leaving tiny holes of dead light brown hardwood in the canopy for others to grasp in the seasons to come.



Keeping it natural, describe a waterfall. :)
 
The simple name, while apt, does little to relay the sheer spectacle of this phenomenon. The mere introduction of drop in elevation to a body water produces a furiously cacophonous crash that simply never ceases. All but the most solid of structures are quickly blasted away by the unrelenting torrent of molecules leaving the most stubbornly igneous portions of the earth’s crust to be slowly stripped away.

Describe obsession for a lover.
 
You like the taste of Mountain Dew. Just the taste, because that radioactive sort of yellow-green is far from your list of favorite colors. And so, when I'm pouring a fountain drink, I am reminded of you. The ice clinks when they tumble into the cup, overshadowed by the loud whirl of the machine. Ice. Remember that time we got up to playing with ice? Remember the glistening trails I left on your back, on either sides of the spine, trails that I chased with lips and tongue until heat soothed the cool. Heat that inflamed, engulfed, razed thoughts and sundered logic until all that we could perceive was each other.

I still remember. Will always remember. But do you? That's alright, love. You were pretty drunk.

I didn't expect you to remember. It was just one night, after all. One night to consummate an obsession that spanned countless nights. I am just another passerbyer in the story of your life, another quickly forgotten name in your guestbook.

But see, I have an issue with that.

Quite a problem, really, when I want more than that, more than you were willing to give - more than you are willing to give.

So, you never liked to compromise.

That's alright, love, I don't like to compromise either. There will be no compromises to be had here.

Because you are mine, see? Never saw it coming, huh? I told you once when we were watching tv, remember? It's always the quiet ones. Always the bookish ones. Always the calm and collected, the 'friend', the trusted confidant that languished in the 'friend zone'.

Oh, but tonight, I intend upon breaking down all of those boundaries. Shatter all these made-up walls and barriers until my zone is your zone. Until all that I am is all that you will know.

Don't scream.

They won't hear you. And trust me, you don't want to make me angry.


Figured a monologue is best for that 'deranged/villainous' tone. I wanted to imply psychopathy and that 'sinister' vibe without going too dark. Not mad about it?


Next up - describe jealousy over a lover. (Yes I'm blatantly ripping @Gina in Orange off, come at me bro. XD
 
It was when she stopped hugging me at night that I knew something was wrong.

I don't remember exactly when I noticed it. It was this gnawing feeling that grew over weeks, culminating in a sudden realization. A hindsight that wasn't quite clear, yet it felt certain all the same.

There wasn't any proof, of course. Just anxious gnawing at the linings of my mind, my eyes never believing her smiles, my thoughts wandering whenever she'd check her phone. When I hugged her, it felt like I was hugging a cactus or a rose, thorns prying and prodding my apart in her lying arms.
It doesn't end. These thoughts, these nightmarish demons, they've refused to leave. They've only grown, leaving me winded. Depressed. Worried out of my fucking mind. There isn't a second I don't think of it, not a second where my mind is tranquil, meditation only giving the voices in my head more silence to ruin.

I've begun checking her phone whenever she leaves it. When her laptop sits on the kitchen counter, I'll go and 'search for some music', or that's my excuse. I offer to drive her to work, just in case a coworker wants to let me know that she's cheating on me.

I spend an ungodly amount of time imagining them together. Imagining the face of a man who may or may not exist. Happy. Smiling. Without me. Belittling my existence with champagne or whatever. When she comes in late at night, drunk and with the first smile I've seen on her lips for weeks, I feel tears well up at the corners of my eyes.

I repress them so that she doesn't see what I've become.



That was definitely a good exercise!

I feel like we need all this emotion to explode, ay? I want the next person to describe an argument or a confrontation. :)
 
His fist slammed down on the table hard, knocking over the vase of flowers he had given me the night before. His face was red and when he looked up at me, I could have sworn I saw the fumes coming from his head. He called me horrible names as his spit landed on the table in front of him.
Did I deserve this just because I didn't answer his text from earlier in the day as quickly as he would have liked? No I don't think I do. After all, I was at work and he knew that.
So what did I do? I screamed back and said things that have built up to this point. Do I regret saying those horrible things as tears ran down my cheeks? Maybe one day but not right now. Without him able to reply, I turned and slammed the door behind me. Getting in my car I drove off quickly and left him behind for good.

Next- describe the feeling of want/desire.
 
🎡 music plays in the background🎡

The air is thick with you. The very pores of my skin can't help but breathe you in. You're not in merely my head or even my heart. You are simply everywhere. You're coursing through my blood vessels. You're tingling in my fingertips. Every fidget in my seat, every wetting of my lips, every flutter in my chest, it all speaks of you. You're like a flammable gas that's just waiting to be ignited throughout my body. It's going to burn so good baby. Won't you please please give me a spark?

Describe...unrequited love πŸ’”
 
I can feel the churn of the clock ticking
Slower. Slower.
Like the treasure of a capsized ship sinking
Lower. Lower.
Grandfather time, trapped in a diamond mine
Echoes relive
Over and over.
Air thins as hope dies and
Memories are the motor.

--------------

Describe... your happy place!! 🎈
 
Snow gently falls outside in the darkness. I see the flakes settle on the window sill but the cold doesn't come in. It can't come in.

I'm bundled up, wrapped in a cozy blanket, laying upon a lounge chair. A fire crackles within it's hearth, basking me in both warmth and light while I relax. Reading, writing, playing, watching, doing whatever I want, when I want while I'm wrapped in this comfortable spot. There is a calming air, even the snow outside hypnotically relaxing in it's own right.


Describe a nightmare.
 
A hunter in the night, taking flight in darkness to catch it's prey. They find the deepest crevice or cave to call its home. Evolution has even granted them a multitude of unique qualities to thrive in their environment and catch even the most evasive little snacks with their agility and hearing, seemingly breaking all known rules of the animal kingdom to allow this mammal to take flight like a bird and use echolocation like a sea faring animal. The bat.

And how can you say some of them aren't cute.


Describe a relaxing vacation.
 
Sleep...wake up. What time is it? Don't care. What day is it? Don't care. Do I need to do anything today? Don't care. Get up whenever. Take my time in the shower. Think about breakfast. Turns into brunch. Sit on the couch. Put the TV on, play on my phone. Have a nap on the couch. Wake up again. Is that the time? Should do dinner. Play on the phone some more. Really should do dinner. Finally do dinner. Stay on the couch, change channels on the TV. Tidy up after dinner. Procrastinate about going to bed. Really should go to bed. Finally get into bed. Listen to relaxing music to help my mind settle. Go to sleep.

Do it all again tomorrow.



Describe an itch in the middle of your back.
 
It is there. I feel it but try to ignore it but much like Tantalus with the fruit, it is forever out of my grasp. It sits about two thirds of the way from my shoulder blade to the small of my back, emanating discomfort. I try to take it in as I move back to the fireplace mantel and move slowly up and down. Not vigorously because I will miss the spot. I think I have it as I inwardly sigh and move back to the meeting, but it is still there.

Describe a gut punch.
 
Your stomach lurches, you feel like your eyes would pop out of your head and you resist the urge to bend in half in an attempt to relieve the pain, refusing to take your eyes off of your foe in the event that another blow is coming. You struggle to breathe, your legs weaken, confusion attacks your senses as adrenalin hikes. Your legs wobble, briefly, then stiffen, and your mind is white noise as your thoughts refuse to focus, you're trying not to heave out your lunch, and finally the wobbly mess focuses on one thing; I need to hit them back before they hit me again.

Describe white page syndrome.
 
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