So today would be the… 15th? ... day of the Page A Day Writing Challenge over at Books, Writing and More, Oh My!!! and though I have roughly been writing a page a day, though it doesn’t feel like it since it’s all been reviews and whatnot for this blog, it’s been long enough that I felt as though a proper page was due. Plus, I also have absolutely no idea how many pages I have written since this challenge started. Oh well.
But then raises the question: What on earth do I write about? In writing class, we were always given an outline or at least a prompt, a word even, that we were to elaborate upon and write at least 200 words. So I did what any person in my position would do; I googled writing prompt exercises and I found this old blog, Write on Right Now! Though it’s no longer updated, it had a lot of good ideas, which gave me ideas, which led me to this.
I had found this picture last year on flickr, so unfortunately I can’t give the proper props deserved to whoever too said picture, but I’m not claiming it as my own so that should be ok. Anyways, it spoke to me and begged me to write something about it, something to give the picture more depth. So here goes.
Oh, and I’m also slightly cheating and using this for FP Friday as well since, technically, it works being online fiction and all…
The night was over, the morning sun breaking slowly through the fine mist of clouds that obscured the sky. Light lit up the small room, ricocheting off the mirror and casting a tepid shine on everything while a petite girl sat upon the dusty floor and gazed into her hand.
Hours before she had been dancing the night away in her pink lace dress and her soft up-do, but as time chased her further and further towards the light, her hair fell down around her face and her dress began to lose its brilliance. The only constant were her golden beads draped around her neck; a hundred baubles in total and a life-time of memories associated with them.
As she stared deeply into the palm of her hand, not really seeing it but looking beyond it, those memories came flooding back to her as if a reservoir had been opened after a lifetime of being rusted closed.
When she first had received her necklace, she had been wearing a pink dress as well. It had been her fifth birthday and a golden necklace was an opulent gift to receive but it was tradition. Each bead then had a meaning cemented far into her familial history, each being a hope and dream that her ancestors had had for her long before she had even existed. With holding them in her hands, she held her entire family and the love that they emanated.
It was their guidance that she was asking for that very morning. The night before, she had received a marriage proposal from two very different men. The first was a man who was financially stable, something her parents approved of, with intelligence to rival that of the most learned men that she knew. He was polite and proper, though he didn’t have a passionate bone in his body. The second was a poor poet who showered her with sonnets and ballads. He offered only the love in his heart and the clothing on his back, but he was kind and generous though financially irresponsible. Her parents had already implored her to choose the first, but her heart pleaded for the second; she was torn between duty and love.
With a pensive look upon her unadorned face, she stared and tried to choose between her head and her heart, her dress pooled around her as she knelt on the floor, and her hair falling to her shoulders.