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2017 - Week 11: Writing Exercise

I have no idea what I should write about this week, so I'm going to go back to my roots here on 52 Weeks and do a writing exercise.
That's right, Lucy.
A writing exercise!!
I actually miss doing them. Funny, right? After doing one every day for over a year, I was on major burnout, but it has been quite some time since I sat down and did a writing exercise just for the fun of it.

In all honesty, I haven't done a writing exercise in... years. It's really sad, but it's the truth. Perhaps I'll add an additional post here per week because I've been marginally successful in my weekly posts here thus far. I make no guarantees though. We all know what happens when I promise things on this blog.

Today's writing exercise is brought to you by WritingExercises.co.uk. I'll be using their Random First Line Generator for this post, which I actually quite enjoy. Just click the button and boom: you have a prompt! I cheated a bit and clicked until I got a sentence that spoke to me, but I feel like that's acceptable.

The plan is to write for 5 minutes without stopping to edit, correct, etc. just to get the brain moving and thinking creatively. The prompt is in bold below.

Anyways, without further ado...

The victim had tried to write something as he was dying, but there had been too much blood and too little time. Any semblance of lettering was lost in the murky, syrupy red that canvased the asphalt of the poorly lit alleyway.

"That could be an 'A' there," Evelyn said, her deep, brown eyes focusing on the carnage in front of her, trying to make sense of it all. Careful not to disturb anything of importance, she waited patiently for the Jake, the forensic photographer, to document the scene.

"Or an 'H,'" he said, snapping a photo of the disembodied foot a few feet away.

Evelyn sighed. "It doesn't really matter, I guess." She stood up, rolling her head back and forth to stretch out the taxed muscles in her neck. "The rest of it is completely worthless." The lone floodlight in the alleyway shone from the top of a nearby apartment building, casting a harsh glare on the area directly to the left of the body, but the gruesome display, though just out of reach, crept slowly across the pavement and into the light, a hint at what was nearby. "Are you finished yet?"

Jake sniffed. "Almost."

- THE END -

I didn't really get anywhere with it and am highly out of practice, but I'm actually thinking on working on a short story or summat based on this idea. Maybe a #FridayFlash piece? Who knows? Everything is up in the air! Wooooooooo!

I did want to work some on kind of creating a scene, because that's one of my seriously weak points right now, so I spent time coming up with ways to describe the visual side of things without being like, "The blood was red," or "There was a floodlight to the left. It was bright." I still need practice, of course, but I'll get there.

Ok. That's enough silliness for my day. Time to go be productive and adult-y. Talk at ya later!

Peace.
Stef.

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