#vss365 and #bravewrite work like this: Every day you get a one-word prompt and are supposed to come up with a mini-story that fits into a tweet. The #whistpr prompt is not limited to writing but can also be interpreted by all kinds of art. The following are my collective tweets for the three challenges.
March 30th
The woman smiled, wrote down the coordinates onto small pieces of paper and handed them to her three companions. One of them frowned. "These lead to #Finisterre." Her smile grew even wider. "'The end of the world'. I thought it would be appropriate to start from there." #vss365
They were sitting in rocking chairs on their porch, enjoying the autumn sun. She looked up from her knitting. "I sometimes wonder whether I should feel like I missed out." He frowned. "On what?" "Romantic #love." "And?" "I don't. Because I always had you." #whistpr
"I never wanted you to #change, you were perfect to me the way you were," he protested. "But I wasn't perfect to myself," she replied sadly. - Silence. Then he nodded, accepting the inevitable. They parted not as friends but as strangers. #BraveWrite
March 31st
He poured the thick, honeyed tea into the #zarf. The filigree ornaments interwove and showed the picture of a forest: animals trapped in an endless chase among the circle of silver trees. "It's a bit like us," he thought. "Running around in circles our entire lives." #vss365
Monday was a catastrophe. Not just the ordinary monday-ness, but a complete, chaotic disaster. Giving up on coping with the general impossibility of the day, Georgia opened spotify and put on her favourite Infected #Mushroom song. "You're so fucked." Indeed, she was. #whistpr
They said #misery likes company. Bullshit. Misery liked nothing more than loneliness, thriving best in solitary confinement, Robert thought, as he looked out of the barred window of his prison cell, watching one of the seven resident ravens fly past. #BraveWrite
April 1st
"What do you mean, you're a vegetarian?" "I don't eat meat. It's as simple as that." "No meat at all?" "No." "No fish either?" "No, those who do are called pescetarians." "This is confusing. But you eat #chicken, don't you? Everyone eats chicken!" #vss365
A string of real pearls, which differed ever so slightly in shape and size, around her neck, #nacre-coloured nail polish, ivory skin and ash-blonde hair. Her cream coloured lacy dress was spread out around her: white perfection in a dark pool of red. She was very dead. #whistpr
Manic #laughter echoed through the cold halls of the abandoned bastion. The shadows were creeping in and sanity was fleeing. The only ones left were the lost souls, those whose lives didn't count because their minds weren't stable enough to support the future world. #BraveWrite
April 2nd
"Oh God, Elvira! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do I have to call for help from the mansion?" She laughed, got up from the ground and dusted off her skirt. Another nice frock ruined. "I'm alive and #kicking, Robert. It needs more than a little fall off a horse to do me in." #vss365
Everyone knew Mafalda Jenkins was a witch. She had a backyard full of strange herbs, spoke in strange tongues to the ragged travellers who sometimes passed through the village, and wore her white shoulder-length hair open. But what truly gave her away was her pet #owl. #whistpr
The developers had been summoned. It was urgent. Vital. "We will have to do something," Gregory announced not bothering with a welcome. A video of disoriented people roaming the streets was projected onto the wall behind him. "They are losing their sense of #reality." #BraveWrite
April 3rd
"How exactly did you break your ankle again?" "I dance Cape Breton Step." "That is well-known to anyone you ever spoke to. How does one break their ankle with it?" "By doing #rock-rocks." "What the heck is that?" "I would demonstrate the move to you, but..." "I see." #vss365
Moving little figurines across the board, the King explained to his generals what he intended to do, obviously convinced his plan was failsafe and brilliant. The queen, having watched for a few minutes, threw up her hands. "Sorry darling, but this is absolute #piffle!" #whistpr
Everyone around here, where magic still exists, knows that there's a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. But only very few know that there's something much more precious hidden at the end of the rare #moonbow: There you may find the enchanted key which saves a life. #BraveWrite
April 4th
"Roses are red, violets are blue... This is stupid. I mean okay violets are actually blue - or violet - but roses can be any colour can't they? They can be pink and yellow and #orange. I heard there even are black ones." #vss365
They sat down at the bar of the #quaint little pub: an old man with white hair, bent with many years of life and a young, attractive woman, who clearly didn't belong in the village. "So you've come to fetch me, finally?" he asked. She nodded. "Last orders," she said. #whispr
If you #seek adventure, you will not find it. It's elusive and likes to spite people. But if you seek calm and peace, you will eventually find adventure knocking at your door, because it also likes to be controversial and contrarious. #BraveWrite
April 5th
"What are you saying you don't like the Jaguar?" - "As a person of more than average height, I have to fold myself up way too much to fit into it, it doesn't fit into any parking space and you have to constantly worry about idiots bumping into it." -"But it's a #classic!" #vss365
Angela was a #risk taker. She always walked the fine line between recklessness and sensibility, leaning more towards the former than the latter, but never enough to topple over. She gritted her teeth at the rock face looming in front of her and started the ascend. #whistpr
I stared at the screen wondering if once again my brain was failing me in the language-department. They were asking me to write about the word "#echt". In an English writing game. Not a German one. I admittedly was more than a little confused. #BraveWrite