Last night I hit a bit of inspiration and wrote another paragraph. I'm not sure what I think of it though. If you read it you'll have to tell me if it got any sort of emotional response from you. If it's not too much trouble, it would also be nice if you could tell me what you think of the sentence length. I'm afraid I used too many short sentences. Obviously it's supposed to be artistic, but it could just be choppy too. Oh, and I only proof read it once, so there may be some errors in it too. Anyway, with no further adieu, that thing I wrote! (And now I've put you in the wrong mood for it because it is rather somber 8-P)


The battle is over and I have left the site of war. As I move along, wearied, I see a rock lying on the ground. There is grass growing on it, and the moon reflects off of it in a way that is almost beautiful after the gore of killing. What? Yellow grass? And the way it moves—no, that is not a rock with grass; it is a head that is lying on the ground. Instantly I am filled with sadness. Many have died, but this scene is particularly nostalgic; a lone head, lying in the woods at night, along a path. I grieve for those who knew this person. I wonder who it was? I will go and see his face. Gently, I turn the head so I can see the face and it is still serene, as though asleep, deep in peaceful sleep. But the features are obscure, though move but a little and there is moonlight. I will move but a little………What? Him? How can it be him! I am smitten with disbelief. How can this be? How is he here? Why was he traveling along this road? When did he leave the battle? No! No, no, no, no, no! This is not true! I must be mistaken! But this face, this face that I know so well, that I have seen so many times. There is a bubbling deep within me. I can feel it rising. I also feel rising my own knowledge that this is his face; his face that I have seen so jovial, so grave, so peaceful, so turbulent. That feeling, rising, rising! It is bubbling, frothing. I have no strength myself, but it is all in that emotion, and then I know what it is. It is not a feeling, but tears. I can see them dripping on the ground. They are making a puddle, and the moon is reflecting in it. I must be shaking; the puddle simply will not stay still. It must be the tears, so incredibly powerful, searing deep within me and flowing out, oh so powerfully. But wait, I am holding something. What is this? A rock with yellow grass? No, it is too soft for a rock. What is it? A head! Why am I—……… What? Him? How can it be him! No! How can it be him! This is not true! I must be mistaken! But hold, I knew this? I am already acquainted with this, that his face, that I have seen so many times and that I will never see again, was sleeping here, alone and all forsaken. If I knew, then what are these tears? Why are they so strong? Why are they so strong! Why! Why must it be him! Why must it be now! Heat! There is boiling deep within me! Burning, burning! All grows dark. The moon does not, but I do. The flames, they leave. They do not, but I do. I can see them, and they rage within me, though they do not melt the bubbling. Against my breast is held a cold soft rock that grew with golden grass. All is dark.
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There is nothing more reckless and fraught with danger than outsmarting the GM.

God is always good. When in doubt, just remember: He made tea.

http://rigelband.com/#contact
Y'all should check it out.

Wow. . . That was weird and very sad. . . Very sad.
I don't think the sentences are too short. They seemed to have a purpose, so it works.
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January 2011

"What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Very cool. I really like the overall feeling that was created when you said that he/she "just left the site of war". I imagine a battle-field that is still smoking and not a soul stirs.
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Teal'c: "O'Neill, are you considering the same tactic as I?"
O'Neill: "Teal'c, the cliche is 'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?'"

Well, the person could have awoken to find the winning side of the battle has moved on leaving nothing behind but dead corpses.
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Teal'c: "O'Neill, are you considering the same tactic as I?"
O'Neill: "Teal'c, the cliche is 'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?'"

I suppose. It seems a tad unlikely though.
_________________
There is nothing more reckless and fraught with danger than outsmarting the GM.

God is always good. When in doubt, just remember: He made tea.

http://rigelband.com/#contact
Y'all should check it out.

Or he could be one of a few who fled the field because they were getting slaughtered. Or he could be a lone survivor as the two armies totally obliterated each other.
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January 2011

"What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

lol The last would be very epic indeed, though probably the most unlikely of any yet listed. Hmm, now this does not seem too unlikely. He could not find his friend and thus went to look for him. It's taken him a while and everyone else has left. Hmm, but if it had taken that long he would be more distraught, and I said the battle and finished recnetly. So never mind. lol
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There is nothing more reckless and fraught with danger than outsmarting the GM.

God is always good. When in doubt, just remember: He made tea.

http://rigelband.com/#contact
Y'all should check it out.

Hey, I just stumbled on this and think 'tis quite good. Hmm, its been a while since this was posted; hope you see this.

Very good emotion. Very good entering of the character's head. Very good thought voice. Very good isolation.

I might suggest either past tense of third person though. It seems hard to believe it is happening in the moment to the narrator, because how could he be recounting it?
That might be just me.
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"Murdered by pirates is good!"

"Actors. Act-or. Act, or else." -Myself