swc megathread ☾ november 2023

CherryMango17

From rainy days to bookstores, pumpkins to scarecrows, fall is a season of many meanings in literature. Some of the most prominent interpretations of the season's symbolism are of harvest, new beginnings and prosperity, and entirely conversely, of endings, decay, and reclusion. In today’s daily, in 450 words or more, write a scene focusing on character dynamics, and convey them through the atmosphere using fall symbolism. For example, if two characters' relationship was just beginning to grow, you could use a harvest to symbolize new beginnings.

I looked out the window at the dark gray clouds that covered the sky. The rain that fell from the clouds splattered onto the window of the bookstore, running down it, and onto the ground. I glanced back at the book I held in my hand.
New beginnings lead back to old endings
As I slid the book back into the shelf, another arm reached over and pulled it out.
“Uh.. Hello?” I turned around to see another girl, about the same age as me.
“Hello. Sorry, this is random, but have I seen you somewhere?” She replied.
I tried to find my way through the corn maze in my mind, but kept getting lost. There was no exit for the maze, I didn't know who she was. I shrugged.
“Maybe just a coincidence,” I smiled.
Like a flower, our friendship bloomed, one of the last summer blooms. But, friendships don't last long when they have to turn into a fruit. It wasn't long before I was falling in love with her. I started to fall for her in one of those ancient bookstores that we loved going to on rainy days. Finding those dusty books, written in fancy, swirling font, like the vines of pumpkins that whirl and swirl through the partch. My heart grew as large as a pumpkin when we were together.
The pumpkin was rotten…
She was my friend from high school, but not anymore.
We fell out then too.
She was popular, I was not. I had amazing grades, she was barely passing. We were complete opposites, but when we bumped into each other that one day during 9th grade, we clicked. Not exactly.
We used each other for mutual benefit. I used her for popularity, and she used me for my grades. It worked until the end of 11th grade, when we both were in love with the same person. By then we were already falling apart, and I was holding tight to the vines, while she tried to get a knife and slice the vines off. When she found out, she cut off contact, and I was stuck in the center of a corn maze, I couldn't go back if I wanted to. My other friends wouldn't take me back after I had made fun of them and ditched them one fine day, and she would never come back to me.
I wandered through the maze for days, months, years.
It has been seven years since I graduated until I saw her again on that rainy day in the bookstore. I look out my window at the dark clouds that cover the sky, but no rain falling. Wrapping my neck with a scarf, I weaved my way through the unusually crowded streets.
“Well, you're one of our first people to come here in this weather,” I looked up. It was the person who worked at the bookstore.
“Huh?”
“It's strange weather for September you know.”
September. It had been 1 whole year since I first saw her again. I shrugged and turned and worked my way to the shelf with the same book. Picking it up, I read the title again.
New Beginnings Lead Back to Old Endings
It wasn't long before I was sitting in my red couch, the fire crackling as I worked my way through the book. By the end, I had found my way out of the maze, my mind now clear.

+573 words

kindhrts-

From rainy days to bookstores, pumpkins to scarecrows, fall is a season of many meanings in literature. Some of the most prominent interpretations of the season's symbolism are of harvest, new beginnings and prosperity, and entirely conversely, of endings, decay, and reclusion. In today’s daily, in 450 words or more, write a scene focusing on character dynamics, and convey them through the atmosphere using fall symbolism. For example, if two characters' relationship was just beginning to grow, you could use a harvest to symbolize new beginnings.

This daily will earn you 400 points, and an additional 200 points for sharing your writing in the main cabin to have others guess the mood.

813 words, 600 points

It all started when they were 5.

It was a warm day in August, the leaves were just starting to turn red. Willow and Fern were having a playdate at Fern’s house.
Fern eagerly watched outside the window, glancing around for her best friend.
“Mommy is Willow on her way yet?” Fern asked.
“I don’t think she is,” Fern’s mom responded, drying off the pink plate that Willow and Fern had drawn together a few years back.
Fern turned her head back towards the window. Suddenly, a blue minivan pulled up. “Mom mom!! Willow is here! Willow is here!” Fern yelled. She rushed over to the front door and ran out.
“Hi Fern!!” exclaimed Willow, opening the door and stumbling over towards her best friend. “I can’t believe we get to make leaf paintings together!”
“Oh my goodness, Willow!” Fern cried, running towards Willow, and knocking her over in the process. “I’m so excited for this!”
The mom’s discussed picking up quickly, and then Willow’s mom left. The girls ran inside to the table, bringing in the leaves they had both collected last week in Willow’s backyard. The girls dug out their favorite ones from the pile, and started painting with the various colors of paint.

4 years pass, both Fern and Willow still close.

It was early October, Willow and Fern were now nine years old and meeting for a hangout at Willow’s house to make scarecrows. The leaves were just starting to fall, and the air smelled of pumpkin spice.
Their moms had brought them supplies, such as straw, ribbon, googly eyes (Fern’s favorite thing to put on them), and markers.
They were sitting on the back porch, in Willow’s fancy lounge.
“Oh you gotta tie the string like this,” Fern commented, reaching over and showing Willow how to tie her scarecrow.
Willow smiled. “Thanks for helping me, I really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” she responded, proceeding to do some more touches to her scarecrow.
10 minutes later, both girls had finished their scarecrows. Willow’s being a pretty scarecrow dressed in fancy clothes and every strand neatly in place. Fern’s was a little different, a silly scarecrow with googly eyes, many different colors, and even some felt scraps for clothing.
Shortly after finishing, Fern was taken back to her house and that was when the girls had a small suspicion that maybe they were growing apart.

10 years pass and Willow and Fern have gone their separate routes.

Early November, at their college campus. Many years had passed since that October day and both Willow and Fern had gone their separate routes, Fern was taking computer classes and Willow was taking a fashion course. Both of them had just finished the last class of the day, and happened to be in the same corridor.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Willow said to her college roommate. She pressed the red hangup button, but just as she was about to put her phone in her bag, she bumped into Fern.
“Oh hey,” Willow whispered in the dark, cold, hallway at their college. “Sorry for bumping into you.” She bends down and picks up her books, wanting to get away from the scene as quickly as possible.
“It’s fine, I guess,” Fern nervously murmured, tugging on her eyelashes. “Nice seeing you.” She turned down the corridor and hurried off to her dorm as fast as she could. Neither of them wanted to be near each other in their head, but in their hearts they both were longing for that moment again when it would feel like they were five years old making leaf paintings.

20 more years pass, Fern and Willow haven’t seen each other since college.

It was a nice day in March, the weather was just starting to warm up again, the first leaves could be seen budding from trees.
Willow was just shopping at her local Target with her four-year old son, Caleb. She was heading down the fruit aisle, when suddenly she spotted a brown-haired woman. She was wearing a green camo shirt, and sweatpants. Willow immediately recognized her.
“Oh my goodness,” Willow cried. “Is that you Fern?”
Fern turned around. “Willow?” Fern questioned, “I haven’t seen you since college. Who is this little guy?” She said, reaching for some apples.
“Oh this dude is Caleb. He’s four.”
“Oh that’s cool! I have a kid of my own, she’s currently at home watching Netflix. Teenages ugh.”
Willow rolled her eyes. “Luckily I don’t have a teenager yet, Caleb is an only child as of right now.”
“Oh!” Fern exclaimed, “You do not want one, they’re horrible. Mine’s always on her phone talking to her ‘friends.’’
“That must be so difficult,” said Willow, pushing her cart and following after Fern.
They later exchanged phone numbers, caught up with life, and eventually started back on the road towards mended friendships.

theawesomemarbler

return to main post

Weekly #1

Part 1: Character Inspiration
Song: I'm Only Me When I'm With You

“Are you sure we're doing the right thing?” Lucy asked quietly as she and Gilbert rushed by the hillside. It was an empty night for them after all. Lucy followed quietly behind Gilbert. They were not supposed to be doing this. But here they are, breaking curfew for the third time this week. It's like a story of Romeo and Juliet, except in this story, there is no romance. Lucy loved her brother dearly, however sometimes Gilbert can act very feisty, which drives Lucy up the wall. But he's just a child, merely 9 years old. And then, they had a horrible life. Lucy sat beside Gilbert, watching him view the starry night sky. He's so young, so innocent to be living like this… Lucy thought to herself. Gilbert can't really talk a lot, because of his mental disorder. But that doesn't stop the both of them from showing their affection for one another. Lucy looked at her brother, thinking quietly, “I must find a way so we can escape this cruel reality that we are both living in. Hang tight, Gilbert.” There's not much time. Lucy must be quick. But there's so many secrets she mustn't spill to protect herself, her brother and her friend.

206 words

Part 2: Character Sheet

Name: Lucy Friwett
Pronouns: she/her
Sexuality: Straight
Species: Human
Strengths: Loves her brother and friend, very capable, and very smart
Weakness: Loves her brother too much until she risks everything for him, very dependent, becomes instable when hearing criticism or arguments breaking out, a little conceited
Tendencies: She often snaps her fingers when she feels anxious, so people will mistaken her as she being rude. She sometimes struggles to find words when speaking so she tends to trail off and submerged deep into her thoughts. She somehow likes to spend time alone sitting by the edge of a cliff near her house, but Gilbert always know where to find her. Lucy also acts more on her emotions than judgmental, so she can get quiet in one moment, and emotional at the next. Lastly, Lucy tends to break down all of a sudden when something terrible had happened or a horrible ordeal just occurred. She is known for not being the leader of the group so no one pays much attention to her.

Appearance

Hair color: Dark brown, almost like black
Height: 5' 4"
Eye color: Red
Age: 15

Relations

Father: unnamed, seldom sober (36)
Mother: unnamed, abusive (37)
Brother: Gilbert, have some mental disabilities (9)
Best Friend: Gwen, caring and kind, but confused about Lucy's story (16)

Backstory
Lucy didn't have a good life. She was raised by an abusive mother, and a father who never cares. Her only companion was her younger brother, but he has autism, sadly. However, Lucy is very smart and she skipped her 5th grade. In her 6th grade, she found her first friend, Gwen. Lucy couldn't make many friends as her background caused her to become introverted, so having Gwen as a friend was a sight for sore eyes. Now Gwen is about to move overseas due to her parents wanting to move houses. Lucy is scared because she will lose a very important friend.

301 words

Part 3: Character Motivations

Scenario 1:
“Gwen, please. You can't go! If you leave, how am I supposed to continue my life, living like this?!” Lucy demanded, as Gwen refused to look at her gaze. It was recess. Gwen was about to leave the classroom but was held back by Lucy. Gwen knew herself that leaving would cause a huge turn in Lucy's life. “I-I'm sorry, Lucy-” “How am I supposed to accept your apology!” Lucy broke out, snapping her fingers aggressively. “You are the only one who understands me. If you're gone, then who will explain my actions? I know clearly no one will listen to me, because I of me lashing out! People will think I'm rude or something, especially my tendency for snapping my fingers. Please, Gwen, convince your parents to stay behind. You are my only source of sanity!” Lucy pleaded, leaving Gwen unsure of what to do. After all, it'll be weird for Gwen to suddenly change her parents' mind just a week before they move. After long moments of considering, Gwen sighed, “All right. I'll give it a try. Don't get your hopes too high though.” Gwen said as she left the classroom, leaving Lucy subconsciously snapping her red, numb fingers.

Motive:
Try to keep her friend from moving away

209 words

Scenario 2:
“Gilbert-” Lucy began to talk when Gilbert hushed her by placing his finger on his lips. They were at their usual spot after facing a terrible ordeal from their parents. Gilbert clearly wanted silence, but Lucy wanted to talk. After all, there's a lot going on in her mind. Being autistic, Gilbert has faced so many cases of bullying from everyone in his year. No one wanted to talk to him because he acts weird, sometimes. Worst of all, he is very emotional and often loses his temper, which caused him to do horrible injuries to his classmates. Gilbert is lonely at school. In his life, only Lucy is the person who can talk to him freely without any hatred. Thinking all of that, Lucy had an idea. A brilliant one. “Gilbert, I have an idea. But you need to listen to me” Lucy spoke softly. It was clear she wanted to do something that was against her parents' approval. “I'll work very hard in my studies, so that we can study overseas when the time for both of us comes. Then we'll be free of our parents.” Gilbert's eyes lit up with hope and joy. There's one more thing left to do: executing the plan.

Motive:
Giving a new life for herself and her brother without their parents

218 words

Scenario 3:
There was a knock on the door. Knock. Knock. Lucy stood outside, anxious from head to toe, rubbing her swollen fingers from hours of snapping. She cannot wait any longer. She turned the knob, but it was locked. Wait what, that was unexpected. Lucy wondered. “Well then, looks like just writing a letter could do it-” Just before Lucy finished her sentence, the door opened, and a figure fell to the ground. “Dad! What are you doing? Are you drunk again? Mom clearly told you not to!” Lucy attempted to haul her dad's unconscious body up, but she felt a cold sensation on her shoulder. Terrified, Lucy turned around, face to face with the person she loathed the most. “Mother.” Lucy was greeted with a cold stare. “I don't need your help, Lucy. This guy is as useless as scum,” she said, turning to her husband, “and you, Lucy. I heard you knocking on our door moments before he got drunk.” Lucy stammered, she wanted to say this to her father, but it's better to tell her, “I want to tell the police about what you have done to us.”

Motive:
Giving the punishment her mother deserves

196 words

623 words

Part 4: Expanded Scenario
I am expanding the third scenario

Her mother stood quietly at the doorway. Her father was still lying unconscious on the floor. Lucy suspected if maybe her father had died, but now's not the time. Lucy did not like the look her mother is giving. It became something sinister, evil. Just like the antagonists in movies. “Mom, I don't want you to…” She trailed off. Her mother's stare is making her anxious. The words she was about to speak had disappeared from existence. There's nothing to do but to snap away her fear. Snap. Go away, Mother. I don't want to see you. Snap. She isn't moving, what to do? Snap. She's coming to me-
Slap.

The impact hit Lucy was much faster than she expected, and it hurt more than she had expected. Her cheek was now swollen, Lucy could tell by the heat coming from the place where she felt the impact. “Don't snap. You're acting like your abnormal brother.” Her mother said, in a tone that Lucy hears when her brother is being bullied. Annoyance. Her mother continued, "Well, if you are really attempting to report me to the police, I seriously doubt they will arrest someone like me. After all, I'm not breaking the law, right?“ Lucy nodded, even though she clearly remembered that her teacher had told her the rules of the city in her history class. Domestic abuse is illegal. Lucy turned away, wanting to hide. ”And don't you dare run away!" Her mother snatched Lucy and dragged her into the room. Lucy, who was not expected her attack, started screaming. However, besides her father, no one else was around. And even if Gilbert heard her, he would be too shy to call the police. That means there's only one person left…

Gwen was packing her bags. Tomorrow was the day she was leaving the city. She sighed. Earlier that day she had an argument with Lucy, but there was something she didn't tell her. “I should've told her that I suggested the idea of moving away. But now even I forgotten to give her my contact number… What a good friend I am…” Gwen muttered as tears slid down her cheeks. She will never speak to Lucy ever again. Ring. Eh? What's that? Ring. It's her cellphone. Someone was calling her. Gwen went to pick it up, and was shocked to hear a familiar voice from the other side. “Lucy. How did you get my phone number?” Gwen asked, a tone of delight is found in her voice. “Well, I asked one of your friends for your number. I wanted to apologize for my behavior this morning. You can leave alright. But I have a request for you.” Gwen nodded, “Okay, Lucy. What is it?”

Lucy groaned. She called Gwen 15 minutes ago, there should be some action now. But it may be too late. Lucy may be gone before anyone shows up. “Mum, please. Don't…” Lucy managed to say those words before coughing up some blood on the white sheets of the bed. Her mother sneered, “Oh no. I won't let you go unless you changed your mind on reporting me to the police.” Her mother raised up the clothes hangar. “But I don't think it will be suitable, since you will be dead before you can attempt to do so-” Bang. The door broke down, Lucy could make out three figures before she passed out.

“Hey, Lucy. Wake up…” Gwen's voice rang in Lucy's head, clearing her consciousness. Lucy sat up in her hospital bed, staring at her friend who had been weeping since she passed out. “Oh, Gwen. Is Gilbert okay? I did this all for him…” Gwen adjusted Lucy's pillow, “He's fine. Your mother has been sentenced to 12 years of prison. Your father too, but his sentence is less severe. You and Gilbert are safe now.” Lucy smiled, thankful for a friend like Gwen. “Gwen, thank you.” Gwen's eyes was smeared with tears, “It's alright. Friends always support each other.”

666 words

1796 words in total

Last edited by theawesomemarbler (Nov. 8, 2023 07:30:33)

Alfalfa78

Daily #3

Amelia had been perched on a tree branch, balancing carefully on it as it shifted slightly in the wind that had started to pick up. Her best friend stared up at her, concern written all over his face. Despite knowing her for years, he never seemed comfortable with her climbing up the old tree.
Some leaves cascaded down onto them, some getting caught in their hair while others flew freely, twirling and whirling lazily in the breeze as they fell down onto the forest floor.
Ami could never tell whether she liked this time of year or not.
Autumn never seemed to make up its mind about the weather.
She felt Liam sigh before carefully picking his way up the tree, stopping to sit on a branch a couple feet lower than her. She didn’t expect him to go any higher.
The wind picked up again, sending another shower of dy!ng leaves onto them.
Autumn always seemed to be a time of cheer. Harvesting and Thanksgiving seemed to be the main focus on everybody’s mind, they never seemed to notice the leaves falling around them as a last goodbye till next year.
Ami shifted closer to the tree itself and pulled her legs closer to her chest, resting her chin and arms on her knees.
She felt like an outcast compared to everyone else.
Liam was the only one she felt like she could be herself around.
And she was sure that’s how he felt as well.
“Ami?”
“Ye-es?”
“Do you think we should head back now since it’s getting really cold?”
“Lee, we just got here, we can at least wait a couple minutes.”
She heard him sigh again, “Fine.”
“That seems to be your favorite word today.
“You’re annoying.” He said as he glared up at her.
“That I am.” She responded with a huge grin on her face.
They then sat in silence, taking in the lovely fall weather in the forest. Ami then slowly started to climb back down to the forest floor, careful to not smack Liam in the face. He scrambled after her, trying to get back onto the ground as fast as possible.
Amelia chuckled before she broke into a jog, “Last one there’s a rotten egg!” She called back with a shriek of delight as she heard him call out something that was lost to the wind.
The leaves raced around in a trail behind the two racing teenagers, before carefully finding their way back onto the ground.
The main part Ami never liked about the fall season was that everyone seemed to miss that it was a sort of limbo between hot and cold. It was lukewarm. And it seemed like the leaves were always ready to hide something.

laters_gators

☆ ☾ ❝ red's swc writing november '23 ❞ ☽ ☆
word goal - 1,048/20,000

introduction:

writing thread

dailies:

november 1
november 3

weeklies:

n/a

misc writing:

history schoolwork
history schoolwork

Last edited by laters_gators (Nov. 11, 2023 02:00:30)

autumn_breeze08

daily 11/3, in progress, at least 450 words
The leaves had finally changed colors, the air was starting to cool, and Rowan was absolutely stoked about it. But as they drove towards their hometown, Ashgrove, Rowan couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit nervous. When they finally reunited with their childhood best friend, Cypress, what would happen? Would she accept Rowan into her life again? … would she accept Rowan's identity? Rowan had known Cypress a long time ago. Back when they went by a different name, and still used she/her pronouns. Cypress was their very best friend. The two had initally met on an autumn day not unlike this one…

Rowan clambered onto the bus, alongside their classmates. Their class was going on a school field trip to Ashgrove Cider Mill, and Rowan couldn't wait. There would be apple picking, free cider and donuts, and a hike in the forest - all of which Rowan was super excited about. As they sat down on the bus, they noticed a lonely-looking girl sitting in the middle of the bus. She was all by herself, staring out of the bus window with a melancholy expression.
“Hey, um, can I sit here?” Rowan asked awkwardly. The girl turned her head in surprise, and nodded. “Um, sure.”
As Rowan sat down, she quietly said, “I'm Cypress. What's your name?” Rowan gave her deadname, but added, “I usually go by my middle name, Rowan, instead. It just… fits me a little better.”
“That's fair,” Cypress said with a shy smile. “I've always liked my name, but if I didn't, I definitely wouldn't use it…”

The two had a wonderful conversation on the bus ride, enjoyed the trip together, and they were friends from then all the way

Last edited by autumn_breeze08 (Nov. 3, 2023 17:09:30)

theawesomemarbler

go to main post

November 3rd Daily
Inspirations by the changing colors of the leaves in Autumn

“I-I can't do it.” I said in a low, quivering voice. “Can't do what?” “I said I can't do it!” The last line had not meant to be a shout, but it burst out without me realizing it. It was the day of the talent show, and I am performing a recital. “I told you, I can't do this alone… I need William's help…” William was the violinist while I am the pianist. We were supposed to do a duet, but William was caught in an accident, so I had to perform solo. Now, I am having a serious mental breakdown. “Luna, I can't do it. There's so many people watching…” I stammered. Luna was curious, “But you loved performing previously. I seriously had no idea why you were brave then.” I bit my lower lip, I had not expected Luna to ask this. “Well… I can do this, actually. It's just my case of nerves. Whenever I'm nervous, I tend to mess up a lot, which makes me more anxious.” I tried to avoid looking into Luna's gaze while doing so. There is more to the story. Only William knows, which is why I always like to perform with him. Except now, William cannot make it. The announcer's voice boomed on the speakers, “Contest 69, Mark, is going to perform a solo piano performance! Everyone give him a round of applause!”

I froze at my position, taking each step took enormous effort. The time had come. I sat by the piano, already familiar with the keys that I was about to press. The light shone on me, blinding my sight to the crowd. It could happen any time. I started played each key slowly, then into a rhythm. All at once I began to experience different things. My nervousness is going away, which naturally happens when I am on the stage. But at the same time I heard mockery coming from the direction of the crowd. I am not mistaken. Martin. Making fun of me again. It was also him who injured William, if my theory is proven true. I know William is listening to me too, because Luna brought a tablet for him to view my performance online. Seeing his kind face regained my spark to perform well despite Martin trying to diffuse my passion, about to blow up. I pressed the final key, and received applause thundering from the crowd.

I should've known. Martin pushed William off the stairs because he firmly believed that William was the sole purpose of my confidence. Honestly, if it weren't for Martin's insults I wouldn't have to be scared of performing. In fact, this happened before. William was sick, so I had to cover him during our presentation. Sadly Martin sabotaged my slides and everything came out wrong and I fumbled my speech countless times. Overtime I grew anxious about performing, but that look on William's face changed everything. It was encouraging and reassuring. I know that he will be with me, and guide me.

The day of the results for the talent show arrived. The announcer went to the stage and spoke, “Well done to all candidates of the talent show, but there can only be one winner. And the winner is…” I was surprised. He's announcing it that quick? I haven't prepared anything to calm down yet! “…Mark Tae!” I was shocked. Out of 100 candidates, I won? Disbelief made me froze in shock, William had to shove me to the stage for me to move. I looked down that Martin's face, which was filled with jealousy, loathing and disappointed. Sneering, I gave my thanks to William and Luna for they encouraged me when I feel I couldn't win, and left the stage, filled with an abundance of joy. Joy because I overcame my anxiety. Joy because I can appreciate my friends around me.

645 words

TrellD

claire's writing collection (gonna make this look nice later maybe)

daily #3

I sat down on the weathered wooden bench, enjoying the array of warm colors that fall had brought to the park. Just a few weeks ago, these very leaves had been fluorescent green, brimming with the brilliance of summer as I walked through the park with Skie’s hand in mine. She had marveled at the trees, the little stone bridge, and the newly renovated pathway as I took her along the trail, stopping every time I found something to show her.
I watched a leaf fall slowly to the ground, the gentle breeze carrying it over to the sidewalk where it lay by itself peacefully. A hurried student walked by, unknowingly trampling the leaf, and bringing me abruptly out of my thoughts. Just as I began to reach for my sketchbook from within the depths of my beige tote bag, I felt a subtle vibration in my pocket. I opened my phone to see a message from Skie, her name emphasized in my contacts with a heart on either side, in case I’d forgotten just how important she was. Just thinking of her made the crisp fall air feel a little less chilly. I unlocked my phone to view her message, and as I did the warm feeling escaped just as quickly as it had arrived.
hey. i really wanted to make this work and i know you did too but i just don't know how we can. we’re on opposite sides of the country and you’re doing school and i haven’t even talked to you in a week and i think that maybe we should end this now so that we can do it peacefully and i rly don’t want to hurt you and i hope that we can still be friends.
This really wasn’t a surprising end, I’d never really thought that this could last forever, but it felt like a shock all the same. Some part of me had truly believed that the two of us could defy all odds and make this work, six thousand miles apart, doing completely different things with our lives.
It didn’t feel like a summer fling when we snuck out of our cabin in the middle of the night, talking about our futures for hours with our feet dangling off the dock, toes just brushing the abysmal midnight blue water.
It didn’t feel like a summer fling when we made our whispered promises at the last bonfire, or when we drove for hours and hours so that she could drop me off in my small college town. But somehow it was. It was over, the vibrance of our summer fading inevitably into the dull colors of fall. A peaceful end, yet dismal all the same.

word war:
The last thing I expected to meet was a mango. A talking mango. Could this get any stranger? I knew that this couldn’t be real, that this world of fire and mangoes was not the world I knew, but maybe it was. Could my home have been destroyed by these violent personified mangoes? It felt like something out of a children’s cartoon but it was so real. I could feel the heat of the flames, I could smell the smoke, and maybe even most concerningly I could hear the giant mango approaching.
“Come with us,” the mango begged “We will take you to Scratch

Last edited by TrellD (Nov. 11, 2023 22:37:24)

CHUROS000

Churro's Dailies #3 (word count 508)
I chose winter symbolism for fun , then I realized it was supposed to be fall but I didn't feel like deleting it -___-

She walks down to the river, her tweed jacket flapping in the autumn wind. The bitter cold nips at her skin, and so does the memory of her grandmother.
She trudges, with her hands in her coat, and sits at the edges of the bank. This was the spot where her grandma took her water skiing, the old soul still active despite growing senile. This was the exact clearing where her grandmother took her stargazing, the telescope propped up, the stars smiling. This was where her grandmother's stories grew; through the trees, through the leaves, through her memories.
Snow falls. She gets up and sits under a tree. The tree where her beloved grandma was buried. They thought she should be reunited with her favorite place, where the connectivity with nature was strong.
She watches as the bitter snow falls all around her, her tweed covered with the frost. Wow, she thinks. When it's winter, everything dies.
She watches as the snow blankets the grass, and seeps into the soil. Soon those sprouts would wither, yellow off. Just like her grandma.
The memories resurface. Her grandmother rose from the tree, spirits high, encircling the trunk. Her cherry red jacket was so bright, so jolly. But the atmosphere of the river was still so melancholy, so depressing. “Jenny…” The old lady says. “Jenny!”
The girl looks up. Is it real? Is that woman really her grandmother? She stands up, excited, the familiar red jacket calling to her, waving to her, is it real? Is her grandmother back? She extends her arm… and the jacket disappears. With the person inside it. And the only thing left is…air.
I'm going crazy, the girl thinks. I'm going crazy with grief. She was never there. She never really was.
The snow falls faster. She shivers and wraps the tweed tighter around her, hoping to bury herself from this. From the snow, from the cold, from her dead grandma's ghost. She peers at the tree, and she sees the headstone which her grandmother was buried under. It was last winter too. It was a year ago. Yet it still haunts her, it haunts her dreams, it creeps into her thoughts, it seeps into her present.
What are you doing out here? She thinks. She's dead. She's not going to be back. She's not just going to spawn right in front of you, okay?
She steps into the grass, forcing the winter snow down into the ground, forcing her feelings down into the ground. Focus, she says. The wind is now flowing in her favor, and it rips her tweed off, it lets go of her arms. It flies away, into the frozen-over river. She feels free. She dances, and she sees her grandmother again, the cherry jacket swooping. They embrace.
Then she is gone again.
But Jenny doesn't feel pain. She's free. She got to see her grandmother one last time, and it is enough. She has let go of her grief.
The tweed still sits down at the bank, frozen into the mist.

_squidiot

3rd daily i guess
cabin: sci-fi
words: 900
(based on a true story)
(tw for a bit of swearing)
*scratch filterbot go brrrrrrrrr

Autumn shows us how beautiful it is to let things go. -unknown

At first, it looked like Eren had everything. A funny personality, shared interests and of course, striking good looks. They shared some classes, and would often hang around the university's coffee shop. Jaiden didn't want to admit it, but back then she had been madly in love with him. Back in August, when the only thing he was to her, was a crush.

One day, Eren let slip that he was working on a couple of small Unity game projects. Of course, Jaiden being the computer science nerd she is, asked if there was anything she could do to help. They got each other's Discord and talked about it that night over text.

Erenous: Is this Jaiden?

ika____: hereeee

But the thing was, she wanted her friends to know about him, too! That's just how amazing and nice he was! So, what did she do? Make a server with around 20 of her friends, including Eren, all invited. Messages started flooding the general chat immediately, welcoming and getting to know each other. How bad could it possibly be?

————-

The next day in class, Jaiden thought about him even more. It felt like middle school all over again, not giving a * about what the teacher had to say, just to mindlessly daydream about your one and only “true love”—that, face it, wasn't going to last more than 2 weeks—for what felt like hours on end. Maybe Jaiden wanted this feeling to last. For lunch that day, she walked to a nearby hotdog place. She'd placed her order and checked on the server while she was waiting.

#general

Erenous: Dawg, that's not how that works. ☠

daphni: He's just acting like an 8th grade boy again

Deleted: What the hell, @Erenous? Let the poor girl do what she wants!

stel <3: yeah guys u need to chill out

daphni: @ika_____ he said a slur! DETAIN HIM!!!!

Jaiden just stared at the general chat, that was now moving faster than she could keep up with. She didn't want to believe Eren had broken the rules that she wanted to enforce so much. So, she just didn't. The only thing she could think to do was….

#general - This channel is locked. Contact an administrator for details.

She silenced her phone and retrieved her food. Was this really the end of her and Eren, before they even started?

————-

That night, the two met again in the coffee shop. They sat down on the couch together, but neither spoke, before Eren finally said, “Hey, I like you a lot, and want to spend more time with you.”

Jaiden was genuinely flustered. “What do you mean?”

Eren smiled. “How does dinner sound? I heard there's a new Mexican restaurant down the street from here that just opened…”

Jaiden blushed and she was clearly still processing what had been said. “Of course! What time are you thinking about?”

————-

A couple weeks later, life was good. Jaiden had unlocked the general chat in the server, the dinner went well, and Eren was behaving okay, to say the least. But not for long, as Jaiden was contemplating what to do after receiving this DM:

daphni: I left the server

ika_____: why? what happened? was it something i did?

daphni: No, it was your “boyfriend” or whatever- what's his name? Aaron?

ika_____: Eren** anyway, what did he do?

daphni: Oh, nothing except say literal slurs and threaten me for my reasonable opinions and not stop when I told him it was making me uncomfortable

daphni: Seriously, Jaiden, how are you still dating this person?

Again, Jaiden couldn't take in what had happened. Her so-called boyfriend had supposedly made her best friend feel so unwelcome that she quit the server?

#general

ika_____: @everyone, i'm taking a little break. going into do not disturb mode for an undecided amount of time. thanks for understanding. <3

She did as she said and turned off her phone.

—–

The late fall breeze whipped around. The scenery, everything, was enchanting. Jaiden sat down on a bench, trying to forget about the events of the past couple of months. Yesterday was
Thanksgiving, and probably the last time she would talk to Eren for the time being. She didn't get to hear his side of the story, nor did she want to.

The bench overlooked a pond. The water was like glass. She bent down and picked up a leaf, tossing it into the pond. Frick you, Eren*, she thought. Daphne wouldn't lie to me like you did.
Another leaf. And another.

Soon, all the fallen leaves within a foot of the bench wound up in the pond. The water was now slightly rippling as she texted Daphne to tell her:

ika_____: you can rejoin the server

daphni: What do you mean?

ika_____: he's banned

And then took a deep breath as she texted Eren to tell him:

ika_____: we're over.

Last edited by _squidiot (Nov. 3, 2023 20:50:31)

Piper_Camps

november 3rd daily: “From rainy days to bookstores, pumpkins to scarecrows, fall is a season of many meanings in literature. Some of the most prominent interpretations of the season's symbolism are of harvest, new beginnings and prosperity, and entirely conversely, of endings, decay, and reclusion. In today’s daily, in 450 words or more, write a scene focusing on character dynamics, and convey them through the atmosphere using fall symbolism. For example, if two characters' relationship was just beginning to grow, you could use a harvest to symbolize new beginnings. This daily will earn you 400 points, and an additional 200 points for sharing your writing in the main cabin to have others guess the mood.”

words: 562

amelia stood at the entrance of the apple orchard, her eyes drawn to the vibrant red and gold leaves that decorated the trees. her heart raced as she watched matthew, her date, approach, a soft smile playing on his lips. she took note of his outfit, a forest green knit sweater over a white button-down shirt, paired with dark jeans and brown leather boots. his brown hair was slightly tousled, and he had a gray beanie pulled low. she looked down at her own outfit; a mustard-yellow cardigan with a white turtleneck sweater, high-waisted burgundy jeans, and brown ankle boots. they both certainly seemed to be dressed for the occasion.

“hey,” matthew said, his voice warm and inviting as he reached out to take her hand. “i'm so glad you agreed to come here with me.”

amelia felt her cheeks flush with a touch of nervous excitement. “i couldn't resist the charm of an apple orchard in the fall,” she replied, her gaze flicking toward the bountiful rows of apple trees. “it's beautiful here.”

matthew nodded in agreement. “it is. and it's the perfect place to kick off our adventure together.” he handed her a wicker basket, already brimming with apples, and gestured toward the nearest tree. “shall we pick some apples?”

as they ventured deeper into the orchard, the soft rustling of leaves beneath their feet and the occasional laughter of families in the distance filled the air. the sweet scent of ripe apples surrounded them, creating a sense of tranquility.

amelia's fingers brushed against matthew's as they reached for an apple at the same time, their hands briefly entwined. their eyes met, and a shared smile passed between them, unspoken but full of promise.

as matthew gently placed an apple in the basket, he spoke, “i used to come here with my family when i was a kid. it's been a while since i've been back.”
amelia couldn't help but notice the hint of nostalgia in his voice. “it must be nice to revisit those memories,” she replied, her eyes wandering to the numerous trees laden with apples. “i've never been to an orchard like this before.”

matthew's eyes twinkled with excitement as he selected another apple. “well, i'm honored to be your orchard guide today.” he grinned with a joking tone “you know, they say each apple you pick here is like taking a bite out of a new beginning.”

amelia grinned at the poetic notion. “new beginnings, huh? i like the sound of that.”

their conversation flowed effortlessly as they explored the orchard, their baskets slowly filling with apples of all shapes and sizes. they discovered shared interests, swapped stories, and found themselves opening up to one another in the midst of the autumn beauty that surrounded them.
as the sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden hue across the orchard, they decided to take a break and find a secluded spot to enjoy a simple picnic they had prepared. under a large, gnarled apple tree with a blanket spread beneath them, they savored apple slices and shared laughter, their connection deepening with every moment.

the backdrop of the apple orchard, with its bountiful harvest and fall's rich symbolism, set the stage for a day that held the promise of new beginnings. their first date had unfolded with ease, and as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Last edited by Piper_Camps (Nov. 3, 2023 17:27:09)

coolgirl100-

Daily 3: 551 words

Olivine looked up at the sly. A cloudy grey, but bright nonetheless. The ground below her soaked her Doc Martens to her socks, and the whispering wind whistled gently past her thick plait.
Early November winds. Early November sky. early November leaves.
How many times had the girl experienced this serene feeling, she lost count. It just felt all too well.
Olivine trudged home from school, letting herself hear the soft crunch of soggy brown and orange leaves under her. The cold snapped at her bare face, neck, and hands, like pecking chickens.

She remembered, in the bitterness of the cold and the dullness of the damp suburban street, about how special ear;y Novembers used to be. The ones she would spend with her older cousins, the ones that used to live quite far away. The ones who traveled a lot. She smiled at this thought. Olivine had often pondered longingly about her cousins and her friends. They would always be used to go camping every early November, just for the weekend. they had spent the day wandering through the green-and-auburn countryside, taking in the old mansions surrounded by lush wilderness and neighbouring villages, and how they would drop sticks from the fair-tale canal bridges and watch them race down the trickling canal below. Olivine and her cousins would splash each other in the sinking mud, then be told off by her parents, and once the sun would bleed into the horizon they would trek back to the campsite and, using the sticks and kindling they collected earlier in the forest amidst the fallen leaves and animal tracks, and create a bonfire which seemed to roar and jump up as if trying to set the sky alight. It roared and sang with ferocity; the autumn leaves had come alive in the hushed evening. Olivine's family and cousins would toast everything, from skewers and other treats wrapped in tinfoil to marshmallows and gooey smores.

During the dead of night, Olovine would slowly creep out of her stuffy tent, with her sleeping bag and pyjamas, She would settle her sleeping bag down crawl into it, and look up at the stars above. Little pinpricks scattered again the vast darkness, solitary or in small clusters. No blinding lights and concrete buildings that scared away the little things, like back at home.
And Olivine would drift into slumber, warmed by the thought.

Now, as she stepped onto her porch, there was none of that. Ever since her older cousins grew up and decided to go backpacking, Early Novembers seemed as dull and grey as her neighbourhood.

Olivine turned the key. She opened the door.

And inside., some people were waiting for her. Their familiar faces lit up. Their smiles echoed those of good old days and wet autumn camping trips.
They rushed out to greet Olivine, with high-fives and hugs. Olivine only managed to hold back happy tears.
Her mum had rushed to the hallway, wanting to know what all the commotion was. Only then she had realised that she had forgotten to tell Olivine that her cousins had come over, weary from their travels, for a warm dinner and reunion.

Early November, with its biting cold, dampened streets and balding trees, lit up with magic whenever Olivine's cousins and family arrived.

Last edited by coolgirl100- (Nov. 3, 2023 18:45:49)

oakfolk

—— ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☽【❖】nov 3 daily【❖】☾━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━——

GAGES mini story (603 words)

Quill's fur was plastered to his skin and his paws encased in a thick layer of mud. His lower jaw trembled in the cold rain with the other cats in a similar state. Syfyn stood tall, his stance conveying the usual arrogant confidence as he gazed out onto the boggy, misty, open landscape as rocky outcrops bordered the field. “Quill” The cadet turned his head “Syfyn?” “Captain Syfyn” he corrected, Quill lowering his head in dismay. Syfyn continued, “Do you notice it?” Slightly perplexed by the question, Quill thought for a second, then shook his head. “There's nothing” The Captain smiled “Exactly” Furrowing his brow, Quill stared at the landscape, confused by the answer. Observing the cadet's face, Syfyn began to explain his response. “Ishnarr knows we are coming here, and they can't give up a chance-” a smile crept up his face “to kill Elgard's best captain” he paused a second “oh and his best soldiers” The information began to click in his head and realised what Syfyn was getting at “So they would, in theory, post at least one battalion here, but there's nobody, which is arguably more concerning” nodding his head, the Captain asked another question. “So, what is your conclusion?” Pausing to think, Quill mentally put the pieces together “I can only think that their information was incorrect?” Syfyn shook his head. “They're smarter than that. It's a trap” Quill's eyes widened as realised what was happening. “So, what now?” Turning his head to address the soldiers behind him, he began. “Well, we may be in the open when we move into the field, but as soon as they move into action, they'll be in the open ” by now, all of the rather rain-soaked cats had seemed to gather round “I imagine that the Ishnaarian soldiers will be hiding on those-” he pointed to rocks that were standing in the field “-rock formations. While it seem like a great idea to spring and surprise them from behind, the rocks have field surrounding them, and we'd be spotted pretty fast. So, what is my plan? defensive formation, move in. Spring the trap, but be ready for attack and strike first. neutralise and regroup. got it?” The soldiers made gestures and murmurs of agreement. “Form up”

The rain had gotten heavier, beating down and drowning the battalion in water. Each of the soldiers had been completely drenched, trudging through the muddy pools of sludge. Syfyn's shoulders stiffened as he approached the location of the enemy. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, he could pretend all of his soldiers would come out clean, but that was optimism bordering on blindness. There was no time to dwell on it, he made his choice and - suddenly a yowl came from above him as the first wave of Ishnaarian soldiers flooded in.

Blood from Quill's front shoulder dripped down his arm as his enemy when for the second blow. Striking the cat with a claw round the helmet, pushing them off balance, he took a second to recover. The adrenaline rushed round his body, blinding the pain from his injuries. Growling, the Ishnaarian pushed him down to floor, mud splattering up his sides and plastoid armour. He writhed around, trying to get out of their grasp they battered his helmet, rattling his face. Headbutting the soldier, he shoved them away, getting back onto all fours agin. Syfyn was overtop one of the enemy cats, trying to remove their helmet to weaken them when another one shoved him off the other, landing him a pile of mud. Observing his two attackers, he waited for one to strike, dodging their attempt and barreling over the second. Purposefully waiting a second for the enemies to regain their balance, he backed towards the nearest bolder. Eyeing both of the Ishnaarians, he lunged the one on his right, skidding around and spraying the muddy water before going paw-first at the second's face, smashing their head into the rock, damaging their helmet and rendering them unconscious. Around the field, the fight continued, mud getting into every crack of armour and wounds. The rain was clearing and stray rays of sunshine shone between the clouds. It was seeming to go all to well; Syfyn taking down a good number of them as well as other notable members. Quill seemed to have put on a face of bravery and held his own as the whole Elgardian side seemed to be taking the upper-hand.

A com message came through the Ishnaar soldiers' helmets as they retreated, just as the rays of sunshine died out and the storm took hold again. A feeling of undeniable dread filled Syfyn's body. Quill's eyes widened as his breath turned shaky. Thunder roared in the distance. The second wave was about to begin.

booklover883322

2: Fall Symbolism
Word Count: 642/450
Date Completed (for me): 11/3/23
Time Completed (UTC): 8:13pm
Time Completed (MST): 2:13pm
Link to Booklet: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7622714/
Milo led Irene through the corn maze, his map in hand, his other hand in the pocket of his large, fluffy coat that resembled something a fashionable husky would wear.
“We were supposed to turn at this bend here, but that path leads to a dead end.” He muttered to himself, his words bleeding together as he tried to figure out where to go. His figure was shadowed by the corn stalks around him, his relatively short stature made more clear by the plants that formed his prison. Irene, amused by her brother’s demeanor, trailed behind him as he nearly ran around the same circle twice. It was getting dark, and their parents would be expecting them back home soon.
Irene looked at the map, reaching out her hand to hold it steady, considering that Milo’s hand was shaking in frustration. She thought for a moment before offering an idea. “What if we try going back a few turns? I think that if we go left instead of right, we should be back on track.”
Milo turned to look at her, “Are you sure?”
She nodded, “Yeah, pretty sure.”
He shrugged, “Fine, if you insist. Don’t cry to me when we get even more lost.”
She was a little offended but just rolled her eyes. She snatched the map from him and walked off toward the bend that was meant to be the shoulder of the huge character that the maze was shaped to look like. Her hair was rustled and knotted from the wind around her.
Milo didn’t have that problem, which he pointed out to her as he walked. “Your hair looks really poofy.” He remarked.
Irene hissed back, “I’m quite aware, thanks. I’ll brush it when I get home.”
He shrugged, “Justttt saying.”
She huffed, ignoring her younger brother. He wasn’t much younger than her, only by about a year, but that was enough to create somewhat of a rift. They were especially not getting along recently due to Irene’s win in a competition they were both in late October.
She followed the path and eventually got them back on track, characterized by the landmark they were beside. Milo grumbled his thanks and took the map back from her. She tightened her scarf around her neck, bringing it over her face a bit more as she followed him. Hopefully, from there he’d be able to get them out.
“Irene?” Milo turned his head toward his sister, “Can we talk?”
Irene was a little off-put by the tone in his voice, “Why?”
“Well, we’re alone right now with no way of getting interrupted, so I thought it would be a good time.” He stopped.
“No, I mean why do you want to talk? And about what?”
He paused, then began again, hoping to get his message across quickly, “Sooo, you know the trip you’re going on?”
She narrowed her eyes, “Yeah? What about it?”
“Well, I guess I just wanted to say sorry for acting so petty about it.”
“It’s fine.” She started walking again. This talk was dumb.
“Wait-”
She turned back, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
He sighed, “Do… do you think that I could come with you? I know I didn’t win but I just want to see Seattle so bad.”
She looked at him. Really? Was this why he was acting that way before? Why he was being so confusing? “Oh, I had no idea that was why you wanted to go so badly. I thought you were just jealous.”
He looked a little offended, “Well, yeah- but that’s the main reason.”
Irene resumed walking again, and Milo trailed after her, letting her take the lead. Irene smiled at her brother, “Well, um, how about I see what I can do and we’ll go from there?”
Milo smiled, “I’d like that. Thanks.”
“No guarantees though.”
“I know.”

Dawn_Camps

ʚ ────── ʚ ⋅ November 3rd Daily ⋅ ɞ ───── ɞ
453 words
Carissa pulled her scarf up over her nose and yanked her hat down over her ears. The late autumn wind prophesied an early winter. The leaves crunched under her feet as she walked down the path. Just a few more minutes until I reach the school. As she passed under the skeletal branches of trees once laden with brightly coloured leaves, she glanced up. The barrenness of them filled her with a strange foreboding.
She suddenly found herself on the cold, hard ground. Someone else who clearly hadn't been watching where they were going had crashed into her. Looking up, she saw a tall boy with sandy blond hair. “Oh, I'm so sorry-” The words froze in his mouth when he saw her. “You.” His expression changed completely and he retracted the hand he had offered.
“Hunter.” Carissa glared at him, pushing herself off the ground. “You should watch where you're going.”
“I could say the same for you.”
They stood, scowling at each other while the wind howled around them. Neither of them moved for a solid minute before Carissa sighed. “Look, I'm sorry. I need to get to class.” She stepped to move past him but he reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Wait.” He released her and ran a hand through his hair. “I'm… sorry. Not just for bumping into you, but also for… what happened.”
Carrissa turned and stared at him. She was surprised that she saw actual contriteness in his face. She blinked, “I'm sorry too. It wasn't your fault.”
“It wasn't yours either.”
“Maybe not completely but I did play into it.”
Hunter gave a slight smile. “Do you think… maybe we could start over?”
In response, Carissa hugged him. “I've missed you.”
Hunter didn't say anything just hugged her back.
They stayed like that for a few seconds, before Carissa suddenly pulled away. “Oh, we're going to be late for class!” She turned to hurry down the path but Hunter stopped her again.
“No, we won't. School has been cancelled because they're predicting a snowstorm.” He glanced up at the darkening sky. “I was just heading home. Why don't you come with me? We can watch a movie while we wait out the storm.”
Carissa grinned, her smile lighting up her face just like it used to. “That sounds great. I'll text my mom to let her know where I am once we get there.”
Together they turned and walked down the path. A few minutes later, the wind died down and snow started softly falling. By the time they arrived at Hunter's house, it had carpeted the ground. Covering all the dead ugliness and replacing it with fresh, pure snow. A promise of new beginnings.

surfdudewave

Daily, November 3, 489 words. TW: terminal illness

She looked to the window of frail, bare branched trees, clinging to their few remaining leaves the best they could, their empty, hollow bones bending in the wind. The trees groaned and creaked against the frigid winter air which seeped into their trunks. That blustering gale would stay inside the trees until April, freed by the rain showers and would thaw the earth. The steady drip of the melting icicles like the intravenous therapy, the thawing spires dangling off the roof’s overhang that would come in the colder months.
She rubbed her hands together, as if the friction could spark something other than the resignation that permeated the air. Her eyes flashed behind her for a second, to the white sheets that might as well have belonged to a ghost. A hollow husk, held suspended between life and death. She looked back to the ruddy glass window with an empty sigh. At least there was comfort there, in the everlasting oaks, forced into their perpetual cycle of abscission.
The dirt ground was firm, the needle ice below the uneven and clumped-up surface that was dotted with frozen crystalline lattices. Frost lined everything; the grass sparkled, along with the telephone pole and the metal hand bars on the accessibility ramp up to the main entrance. Each glittering blade and sheath, rigidly attached to the sod, were illuminated in turn by flashing rays and headlights. Everything was studded with shining diamonds, gelid and bitter in their frozen form. Gemstones so sharp that they’d leave your hands raw and numbed by the intoxicating beauty. Soon there would be delicate snowflakes, their ephemeral allure melting at the slightest touch; a memory, nostalgia attached to a forgotten sensation. Maybe the monochrome photos she’d find when emptying her mother’s bedside drawers, bent at the corners and stained with homemade jam from a family reunion.
The brumal sky was a dull pewter gray, dim and dreary with fatigue, everything below it still and devoid of energy. The broken heater in the corner of the room crackled and spluttered as it feebly attempted to exhale warmth in a labored breath. In the distance, the dark silhouettes of buildings were visible against the suppressed yellow glow, a solitary hawk circling in the distance as if he were mourning the absence of the sun that had yet to rise.
The leaves were trapped in their slow decay, held stationary by the passing hours and the acrid aroma of antiseptic. They were chained by autumn and would be imprisoned by winter. By April, the fallen leaves would form a layer of mulch, built by the shedded reminders of the vernal and estival months—the burst of growth, followed by the harvest. April would bring the little white flowers peeking up from the grass, the swampy soil oversaturated with rainwater, and the hope-filled crepuscular rays from after days of downpour.
She knew Mother wouldn’t be there by the time April crept around.

surfdudewave

Sci-fi storyline challenge about picking a lock, 251 words.

“You’ve done this before, right?” I hissed, looking over his shoulder at the lock.
He laughed nervously, rubbing his fingers through his curly blond hair. “Of course, I’ve done this before.”
“You knew the words ‘breaking and entering’ before last Monday?”
He groaned. “Shut up. Give me some time to work here. It’s been a minute.” I had begun to seriously doubt anything Alexis had said. I was beginning to get impatient, eying my watch anxiously. I tended to snap when I was quick-tempered.
“Ah, so last time was when you’d picked the lock on your little sister’s diary? You wanted to see her little first grade love triangles and elementary school gossip?” I knew for a fact that all the glitter-coated diaries had the same basic lock and key, so I didn’t even have to bother cracking the lock unless I was in the mood. I never did find anything good in my sister’s diary, though.
“Seriously, I’m doing it as fast as I can!” Alexis whispered loudly, biting his lip as he twisted the bobby pin around in the lock.
“Do it faster!” I shouted as quietly as I could, whipping my head around to scan the hallway behind me. “Like, in the next eleven and a half seconds would be really, really great.” If only Alexis had worked a little faster instead of twisting his head around and asking me exactly why I’d chosen such a specific number.
I needed to choose better companions in future thievery attempts.

Rey_venclaw

daily!

Come a little bit closer
Hear what I have to say
Just like children sleepin'
We could dream this night away

(Fifth Year, December)
“What are your dreams, Moony?” Sirius asks from beside me on my bed.
Ever since first year, we’ve spent the beginning of Friday nights all crowded in one of our beds, talking, celebrating the start of the weekend, and daring each other to do things any of the girls would say are stupid. And usually, I’m inclined to agree with them. But I do the stupid things anyway. Which probably makes me stupid too.
One by one, we go back to our own beds to sleep, and that’s how our weekly parties end.
It used to always be me who went to sleep first, much earlier than everyone else. But at some point, Sirius and James decided to put a stop to that by having the parties on my bed. All the time. So now I’m up as long as the others decide I am.
I don’t mind that as much as I expected to.
“Dreams?” I ask quietly. Sirius and I are the last two awake. He usually only goes back to his own bed when I fall asleep.
“Yeah, dreams. Greatest wishes, biggest goals, most unlikely hopes for the future, you know what I mean.”
I roll over onto my side, facing away from Sirius. “Never saw much of a point in a werewolf having dreams. They won’t happen.”
Sirius moves closer to me and grabs one of my hands. “Don’t talk like that, Moony,” he insists. “We’ll get the Ministry to see reason. You’re so incredible, they won’t be able to not listen to you.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” I say, rolling onto my back again but not letting go of Sirius’s hand. “In that case, I want to be a teacher. A good teacher. I want to make sure all kids feel cared about, and confident in themselves.”
“That’s a perfect dream, Moony.”

But there's a full moon risin'
Let's go dancin' in the light
We know where the music's playin'
Let's go out and feel the night

(Sixth Year, February)
My body knows a full moon’s coming hours before it rises. It’s like one of those flus that are really awful but only last a day. Except I turn into a monster at the end of it.
Now that all the Gryffindors in my year are aware of my lycanthropy, I’m not worried about hiding that I feel sick anymore.
I don’t do it every month in case other students get suspicious, but sometimes when it’s really bad I won’t go to class, and instead I’ll sit in the dorm and listen to music all day.
One of the other Marauders usually come check on me during lunch, which means they should be here any minute.
When I finally hear footsteps and voices on the stairs, I realize it’s all three of them. It’s very rare that James, Peter, and Sirius will all come to the dorm instead of eating lunch.
I sit up as they enter the room. James and Sirius are each carrying two trays of food. Peter’s hands are free so he could open and close the doors.
“Why are you all here? And what’s with all the food?” I ask. “If you plan on eating that up here, you won’t make it to Transfiguration.”
“Transfiguration was cancelled for today!” Peter explains, grabbing my hands and pulling me up of my bed. “We have an hour and a half to hang out with you.”
“Come sit on the floor,” James adds, “I have your food.”
I would have joined them of my own volition, but Sirius and Peter seem to think it’s necessary to pull me by my arms out into the middle of the room.
“Sit,” Sirius commands, even though I’m already in the process of doing just that.
James sets the biggest tray on my lap as Sirius and Peter sit down with us.
“Are you excited for tonight?” Sirius asks.
My mouth is full of egg salad, so I just nod. There was a big dump of snow last night, and fresh snow always makes full moons more fun.

When we were strangers
I watched you from afar

(First year, September)
I don’t see how my week could get any better. First I found out I can go to Hogwarts, then I got to go to Diagon Alley and get not only books but also ice cream, and now I’m standing in front of a real, working steam train.
Almost everyone around me seems just as happy as I feel. Parents are proudly wishing their kids a good year and making them promise to write often, kids are reuniting with their friends as they board the train to find a compartment together, younger siblings are going on and on about how they can’t wait to be old enough to go to school. Almost everyone.
Just a bit away from where I am on the platform, a boy about my age with long dark hair is repeatedly nodding at what the adult beside him is saying, looking down at his shoes all the while, his face completely expressionless.
The adult beside him, a tall, severe-looking woman, looks even less enthusiastic about the situation. They are the only two people on the whole platform not smiling.
I hope the boy’s okay.

When we were lovers
I loved you with all my heart

(1979, June)
“Padfoot,” I shout out the door of the flat, “Come inside, James and Lily are here.”
“Unless you like your motorcycle better than your friends!” Lily adds from beside me in the doorway.
“Is there food?” Sirius calls back, still under the motorcycle in the driveway.
“So you like food better than you like us?” Lily asks.
“You’re not necessary to keep me alive, you fools. Food is.”
“Oh, Padfoot, you wound me,” I say in my most dramatic voice, hands over my heart.
Lily rolls her eyes. “Yes, Sirius, there’s food. Who do you think I am?”
Sirius joins us inside remarkably quickly after that.
Peter arrives at the tail end of dinner preparations, looking slightly disheveled and carrying a large pie. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, setting the pie on the counter. “I bought dessert to make up for it.”
We all sit down to eat, and it’s barely ten seconds before all five of us are laughing our heads off.
Like old times, I think.
James smiles at Sirius. “I haven’t seen you this happy in years, Padfoot.”
Sirius nods like it’s the most obvious thing. “Well yeah, that’s what being in love does to you.”
I can literally feel myself blushing.

But now it's gettin' late
And the moon is climbin' high
I want to celebrate
See it shinin' in your eye

(Fourth Year, March)
It sucks. It really sucks. The full moon. Is on James’ birthday. Which means I can’t be there for the whole party. Which means most of our Marauders birthday traditions, we can’t do. It’s not fair.
I’ve been sitting on the windowsill all evening, watching everyone else celebrate and feeling too sick to join in. I’ve been holding out as long as I can, but I really need to get going to the hospital wing.
I hop down off the windowsill and immediately regret having ever climbed up there when my bones, already beginning to elongate, voice their protest at my rough landing.
“James,” I whisper, tugging his sleeve to pull his attention away from the card game.
He turns to look at me. Sirius, beside him, does the same.
“Prongs, I’ve got to go. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry, and don’t apologize,” James says quietly. “I understand.”
Sirius puts his arm around my shoulder. “Come back in one piece, Moony.”
I brush his arm off me. “I will.”
I slip quietly away from the party. Just before leaving the common room, I look back at my friends. James looks happy. That’s good.

Because I'm still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you
On this harvest moon

(1995, August)
Sirius keeps shaking his head as I list off all the music that came out while he was in Azkaban. “I missed a lot,” he mutters.
“You did,” I say. “You have to listen to it all.”
“I missed you,” Sirius says, even quieter than before. His smile has turned sad.
“I missed you too.”
Sirius is quite for a long time. I don’t mind. I’m content to give him all the time he needs.
When he finally speaks, he says, “Play something for me?”
“Okay.”
He follows me upstairs to the room I’ve been staying in, where my CD player is.
“This song came out a couple years ago, I say,” putting the disk in. “It’s almost like it was written about us.”
I expect him to come in the room, point at the CD player, say “what the heck is that?” But he doesn’t.
I press play anyway and sit down on the edge of the bed.
Sirius stays in the doorway, staring intensely at me, for the duration of the song.
He must start walking as soon as the song stops, but I don’t notice he’s moved until he’s kissing me.

Because I'm still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I'm still in love with you
On this harvest moon

(lyrics by neil young)

Last edited by Rey_venclaw (Nov. 4, 2023 04:56:19)

puffyfish

daily 3
word count - 442

Lev came home in tears.
His body felt weak and bruised, his thin, tattered coat had not been nearly enough to protect him from the biting cold, and his basket of grain was still almost completely empty. The cramped, dreary interior of his small apartment did not do much to lift up his spirits either - and his brother, Alexei, had not yet returned home from his work in the factory.
So, with no food to eat and nothing to do, Lev sat down in his old wooden chair - which he and his brother had spent most of their savings on last month - and contented himself with looking out the window at the bleak landscape surrounding the building. When it was not being ravaged by harsh blizzards and storms, his town seemed to be perpetually on the edge of winter and autumn - trees that never seemed to have enough leaves, and air that seemed to be just too cold to be comfortable. He sat like this for quite a while, finding solace in the desolate but oddly soothing scenery, until he heard the door to the apartment open and his brother stepped inside.
“Hey, Alexei,” Lev said, unable to keep his sullenness out of his voice, “welcome back.”
“”Hello,” Alexei responded, putting down his bag on the floor. “…Did something happen?”
“Oh, just the usual - I got most of my grain and all the money I had stolen by some thugs today. Looked like the types who didn’t even need it, either. But it’s just the way it is.”
“But it shouldn’t be,” his brother said, seeming uncharacteristically angry. “We’ve been living like this for too long.”
“Of course it shouldn’t,” said Lev, “but there’s nothing any of us can do about it.”
In the distance, thunder rumbled, and Lev could see wind shaking off what few leaves remained on the trees outside their apartment. Alexei paused for a minute, thinking, before sitting down in the chair across from him and continuing, with the same fervor as before:
“Actually, I’m not sure if that’s true anymore. I’ve been hearing reports from some other towns - of people… fighting back. And some of my friends have been thinking… could we not do that as well?”
“Do you really think a few of us could match even two stupid tsarist thugs? We’d be destroyed!”
“Lev,” Alexei said, as the wind began to speed up outside, “our lives are already at rock bottom. We’ll have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. My friends are having a meeting tomorrow, at another apartment just across town - they’re planning to attack during the next blizzard. What do you say?”

-NightGlow-

Daily 3: 459 words

side note: This turned into a bit of a letter/rant XD – but I had some fun writing it :D

We began our journey many years ago, like a friendship budding from under the soil. With careful care, our friendship grew into what it has become today. I can't believe how long it's been - how much more important you have become to me over the years. As time went on, I started to realize that we were truly meant to be. Hand in hand, we spent all those years together. Blossoming every spring only to be blown away on a new journey in the autumn breeze.

Nevertheless, we also came back together. Facing all the difficulties and the frost of winter. When spring came around, we were right there where we started - right where we would always be for the rest of our lives; or so I thought. It happened so fast, so quick for anyone, I can't even begin to take it in. Last year we started our long journey once more. Burning through the internal flames of the sky, while blossoming into beautiful trees. We started as singular leaves - now into enormous trees. Oh, you can only imagine how much your presence over the years has meant to me. But now. Now everything has changed. It will unfortunately never go back to the way it once was.. no matter how much I wish into the evening night.

During that autumn, you grew weak and old, your exterior turning frail as the seasons went by. Rather than shining in the sun, your leaves blew away - not growing that much the following year. Their absence left an impact on you, on what became of you. No matter how much I tried to provide you with warmth, you always seemed to get worse - get further into the darkness, leaving the light. We had started our journey all those years ago, and now, it seemed as if everything was coming to an end. You were my love, my life.. my everything. You meant the world to me, and I could not even begin to believe how I could continue living through those harsh seasons with you. Who would guide me back when I was lost? Who would be there to hug me whenever I'm cold? And who will always be there by my side?

That person was you, but now, I guess your time has come. Your time has passed like a dandelion blowing away in the wind. Parts scattered, your fragments will continue to grace the Earth. Although we may not ever see each other again, I wanted to tell you just how much you meant to me, and really, how much you still do <3

Last edited by -NightGlow- (Nov. 3, 2023 22:42:10)

Discuss Scratch