@writingprompts From a folder of mine labeled "Inspiration":

writing #writingprompt #writingprompts #inspiration

@writingprompts From a folder of mine labeled "Inspiration":

writing #writingprompt #writingprompts #inspiration

@writingcommunity
@writing

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The dulcet notes of a music box roused the dreamer. They let out a low groan and stretched. A mirror of all mornings previous. Their room was a cocoon of darkness perfectly tailored to their tastes. They fumbled forward, slowly rising from the floor, and knocking aside a few items in the process. They traveled in the direction of "forward" until their outstretched hand bumped into a closet door, from which they retrieved a cup noodles container that was miraculously not crushed, and a plastic bottle of water. They pored the water into a mug that they hoped was clean enough to not make them sick, then lightly tossed the empty bottle to the side. They slid along the wall until they reached a corner and squatted, narrowly avoiding smashing their knee into a microwave on the floor. As their water heated, the faint glow lit the room enough for the figure to be both disgusted with their room and themself. "I'll clean it tomorrow", they half muttered to themself, but it was as empty of a prom

Each tick slammed into the person but they knew that the sound would never end, at least it hadn't stopped since they could remember. They still couldn't filter out the sound and it had taken an effect on them. Their movements had become mechanical, and their speech almost robotic in cadence. And yet no one they confided in believed that the sound was real.

They counted each tick instead of sheep as they drifted uneasily to sleep. Though as the sun crested the mountains, and as they were roused from their sleep, they became violently nauseous. The frequency of ticks per minute had increased.

//Note: I haven't been able to write much recently due to school and working on writing both a game engine (I've been working on it for around two years and it finally is in a state I can make a game with it) and a game. But I will try to reserve time to work on writing more writing prompts. I have an idea for the next one, I just need to get to writing it :)

//Note: I apologize for the post for

Before opening their eyes, they felt around their face to see if they were still wearing sunglasses. They silently cursed as they weren't able to find what they were looking for. With nothing else to do they hesitantly opened their eyes, and were surprised to be greeted by a cool darkness.

There seemed to be a crowd gathered around them, but either due to what had caused them to pass out, or due to being overwhelmed, the noise was a distorted drone that didn't feel all that pleasant to be surrounded in. They sat up, the lightness of their body distracting them for an instant, then looked around. Faces smooshed and bunched together around them, but when they opened their mouth to ask the crowd to give them some space, the realized they couldn't speak.

A bit frightened, they looked down and realized they were looking at themself, or rather a cadaver of themself.

Ah, so I'm dead.

The thought didn't scare them as much as they thought it should, but it could be because they were still

@[email protected] From a folder of mine labeled "Inspiration":

writing #writingprompt #writingprompts #inspiration

(This is basically the prompt for #TangledChains - https://trouth.eu/tags/TangledChains )

@[email protected]

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Stolen from here: https://sh.itjust.works/pictrs/image/eca9e5a6-e00e-4967-a6a5-a9cf170f9a96.png

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