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granger
The brightest witch of her age ⚡⚡ (& a Dauntless) Lover of life
9 Posts • 140 Followers • 1.1k Following
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Challenge
Challenge of the Week #55: Write a story of 200 words or more about a stranger. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $200. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Cover image for post The Stranger passing by my life, by granger
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granger

The Stranger passing by my life

I was the reflection in her eyes... the flame. A shimmering diamond in the starlit galaxy, reflecting in almost every eye; but not the right thing shone in mine. It was all haze. A vague memory of a cold, rainy day. When she shifted the umbrella towards me, and half of her got dripping wet. I swear we both could have walked under it, but she kept that space. The college's plain girl; I merely knew her name. I know right then she felt just unknown, just right out of my heart....

I was the energy in the thunderstorm... the lightning bolt.The rush of warm blood, the fire in it. She always whooshed past me like the wind, so invisible. And I hardly ever noticed her scent. Not even when she slipped from the stairs, and I caught her arm trying to stabilize her. And she was wildly noticing that she was saved, I remember from the blurry vision of her as I was heading fast towards the basketball court....

I was like the fumes from the volcano, flying higher. The wandering dust of the desert, occupying. She could be somewhere around, when I traversed the thorny jungle with my group on that wild adventure trip, stepping ahead fearlessly like the King of the Jungle. They were betting on killing snakes, huh. I'd kill a crocodile. I set out, after a while everything was soaked in blue moonlight. My eyes burnt like a hungry hunter's. Suddenly, shadows appeared. Unmistakable. I simply lost track of my thoughts. Forgot about finding crocodiles, the triumph, my friends, the plain girl, all. The shadows were elongating, approaching. The howl, epic as ever, resounded under the face of the impeccable moon. The pack returned  the signal from a distance....

I was the dark grey sky, dull and thoughtless. Back home from the trip. Wounded in the thigh. Reminiscing, thinking if I'd just come across an illusion of the moonlight. But then, she came. I saw the cut on her wrist. The vicious claws, I remember. Those eyes from the mask... the attack of the wolves. The groan... sigh, the gunshot.The play of the ninja; the Masked Stranger....

 She was the mystery, and I was a whirlpool of confusion. I looked in her eyes... wildly noticing that I was saved. She stared back at me, her eyes maybe, finally, bravely here to make a confession, so pretty, so teary. But unsure and indecisive. Maybe feeling unknown, like a stranger. I took her hand. Took her in. To my arms. The ice inside me shattering, like a house of cards. Finally making a way in for a stranger, who was quietly passing by my life. Tracking every beat of my heart, but scared to let me know. 

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #47: Write the ugliest micropoem that you can regurgitate. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge.
Cover image for post Crunch, by granger
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granger

Crunch

Slimy and salty

Crushed and masticated

Between my teeth

Only when I regurgitated

Did I know

Was a crunchy cockroach

I had munched

While Sleep-Eating

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #46: It’s Halloween. Scare us shitless in 30 words or more. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge.
Cover image for post Let me peek at you near the lamppost, by granger
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granger

Let me peek at you near the lamppost

The waters were black and angry, like some hue of death was mixed in. Lead clouds poured heavier, a thunder bolt came down, and the eerie winds sighed. The boat that I was on, must be a wreck on the shore by now. Waves devoured me, pushing down. Water entered into my mouth and nostrils, depriving my lungs of air space. Suddenly, I was saturated.

I kept going down, sinking. A giant silhouette of a whale passed by. Suddenly, the environment was no longer watery. Did I reach the seabed? Or had I crossed it? I had lost all the weight of my body, when I reached this place. It was pitch black here. I walked without an idea. The heat was intensifying, I stumbled onto something metallic. It gave a clatter miles down somewhere. I felt as if I was being sucked from all sides, like in a vacuum. There was a 'Meow' of a cat, and it kept echoing. In the distance, wicked red eyes switched on and off. They were moving near. I moved backward, step by step, trying to feel the land. Suddenly, in all blackness, a white shroud hissed past, sending shivers down my spine. My legs were becoming numb, I felt like I had stepped on air. But the land beneath my feet had really ended, and I was falling down the chasm, into the inferno, to the demons...

I'm coming back, to the sea and up. To you. I haunt your dreams, and run in your veins. I sadden your soul. To see me, see carefully if a shadow follows you or a shroud, when you walk by that lamppost by night. 

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #45: You’re on death row for a crime you didn't commit. Write about it. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
Cover image for post Off with his head!!, by granger
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granger

Off with his head!!

Dear Liz,

I'm your Dad here! I'm gonna skip the pleasantries today, OK? I don't have much time, I hope my princess understands. I've just been given the permission to write to you. It's important what I want you to know.

Alice was not wrong, and the dormouse helped her escape. The Hatter was also declared a conspirator by the evil Red Queen.  And just so you know, Alice did make it to the White queen, and will also become her Champion at the end. And she will defeat the jabberwocky.

But the Hatter and the dormouse are still held captives, by the Red queen. Today is their execution.

They look miserable. Especially the Hatter. But I'm not much happy either. None of us in the queue is. The evil monarch is here, and so are the echoes of "Off with his head!!" It's my turn after the Hatter.

But suddenly, there's a confusion. The Hatter has disappeared, It wasn't the real Hatter, it was the disguised Cat! And now the Hatter will do the miracle.

Liz, I don't, in any context, mean that fiction has sprung into reality. I know you know the story, and I want you to realize that no miracles are gonna happen now. Just know that, some people in this world have their own definition of crime- the ones who think that it's far better to be feared than to be loved- the Cold ones- the Red ones. And your Dad has been convicted as per one such definition of crime, in the foreign land that he has been sent to. The crime of being present, of being found. I want you to know that he's just the fall guy, and his number has come up. Never believe in any lie the media speaks about me, Liz. It's all false. Your Dad was no mastermind of any terrorist attack. I'm clarifying to you, because you are the only one left who matters to me, even after I'm gone. They just needed an excuse to trap and kill a brave intelligence guy of your noble country. Well, that's politics, and you might not understand well. But just know that, your Dad didn't steal the tarts.

Liz, I'm running out of time now, but never think my end will be the end of everything. So my darling won't be sad, and nor will have any regrets that her Dad was an intelligence guy, OK? Because after all, he might eventually end up in a Wonderland!? And isn't that what she wants!? And then she can just jump down the rabbit hole, any time she likes, and meet him. Liz, I know you know how to find one. 

Just stay strong, my love,

Your Dad.

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #44: You’ve been baited by the person you’ve been stalking. Held at gunpoint, you can’t leave, ever. Write about it. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
Cover image for post When You'll Remember Again..., by granger
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granger

When You’ll Remember Again...

Let me tell you dear, God made you crazy

Sometime you dive into oblivion

And not know a person or thing

And then you enter this world of turmoil again

But in your unconsciousness you become a demon

And that's what I feared the most.

When you walked out of the house that night

I thought you were just missing fresh air

So I followed you, quietly stalking

But you walked into a blind alley

And weren't coming out

I entered after you, out of curiosity

I hadn't the slightest idea

How your thoughts were tossing like an angry ocean

How your memory had turned upside-down

I put my hand on your shoulder, you turned around

Suddenly you shoved me to the ground

Bound me with your body

In darkness and silence, no voice no sound

You were half scared half confused, your stare was profound.

Your disease wasn't allowing you to deliberate

I tried to summon your conscience, told you who I was

You couldn't concentrate.

You held out a pistol and aimed it against my head

I couldn't believe how you wanted me dead

But then, how could I blame you, I realized

You were out of your mind

I knew I was going to leave

You and the world

Couldn't deny destiny

But hoped to meet you in a different world

I didn't hit you, push you, hoping you'd just wake up

But then you did just what I had feared

You slayed me

But even then,

All I was worried about was

How you'll survive my absence

W h e n  y o u ' l l  r e m e m b e r  a g a i n.

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #41: Write about change through chaos. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
Cover image for post Micro-Chaos, by granger
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granger

Micro-Chaos

I couldn't see it, but I could feel it. A rumble, a march, of things so tiny. Invading, and devouring, and sprawling, without a sense of direction. Stampeding, and bouncing here and there, greedy of life. And sprouting, life of there own.Growing their Kingdom, in the territory of the foreign, akin to a portrayal of Mongolian brutishness. Crude, and parasitic, conquering everything, in a massacre so merciless. In a progression, in a chaos...

Meanwhile, I stumbled over spoons and knives. A rack yet clattered somewhere on the floor. I bumped into something. Outside the kitchen window, a small, pretty bird perched on a stalk jutting out its blue breast, and sang. Life inside everything flaunted like a bare truth, so envied, so longed for. I had clutched my head. I was pulling out my hair, wincing and out of breath, screaming and crying. Longing for the shades of life, that were outside. But pain sucked the patience out of me. While I was in a dilemma over it, a hand of mine grabbed a knife. And slit my throat a couple of times. There was a rush of million cells, a gush of blood, all liberated. Chaotic. Painting my dress red. While the exuberant Life shouted at me to stop, those little marching bodies inside my head had declared it done. Those tiny cells had enormous strength, they murdered, they engulfed. They made a mass of a cancerous tumor inside my head. And I couldn't bear it no more. So, I made the final cut..

Now as the serenity of Utopia finally prevailed, and there was no more disorder, but a hue of godlike purple everywhere, like on the wings of the fairies and angels, I knew I chose right.

Cover image for post Ruthless, by granger
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granger in Haiku

Ruthless

Set your soul on fire

Endeavor passionately

And you will succeed.

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #39: Write a piece of poetry or prose about addiction. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
Cover image for post Take me there, by granger
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granger

Take me there

I gaze

This is Eternity.

In front of me.

Won't call it an addiction?

This is surreal

And yet tangible.

Is it a passion?

Or plain madness?

This is a bustling city

In front of me.

Illuminated.

Is Heaven golden?

I stare at everyone

And there I see myself!

Hovering cupcakes follow me

Strangest?

I look at my wings,

They flutter in eagerness.

It's like all the dimensions, high and far off 

Can now be touched.

It's pleasantly warm,

And yet it snows.

Lights float on the lake

And stars still pose a mystery.

I look into the vastness

Ready to explore

Everything that had mystified me

But then Beauty grips me tight.

I sit here and gaze

I'm addicted

It's painful, it slays

A trick of imagination?

I gaze for hours

I'm addicted

To this bad longing

Of being there.

I gaze, uninterrupted

I'm addicted

To the Magic

It might, might possess

I gaze. Lost.

This is Rowling's Erised

I've painted on my wall

I often, often forget to live. I'm addicted.

More paint here

Won't call it an addiction unless

You paint your own image

I  n    E  r  i  s  e  d. 

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #38: Write a piece of micropoetry about what summer means to you. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
Cover image for post Summer Euphoria, by granger
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granger

Summer Euphoria

Blazing Sun, 

Perfume and sweat.

Then monsoon clouds thunder....... I rush

To garden Joy.

Roses and tulips,

Petals wet against my lips! 

Dance till I see

Rainbow in the mist.