In addition to finally doing some writing, I’m also celebrating an anniversary, according to WordPress. I’ve been blogging (on and off) for two years! I can’t believe I got off my buttocks and started this blog two years ago…?!?! Wow. How the time has flown. Thank you so much for your support, my friends!
And now on to the WPC…
I had a very specific idea when I posted the image of Venice on Wednesday. Honestly, I don’t know where it came from. Actually, I could probably guess – smutty fanfiction and one of my favorite films, Dangerous Beauty. I decided to go a different route, as it was a bit NSFW and not generally what I write. Venice was once known for its courtesans, and I planned to write something in regards to that. Maybe I still will. As for the angel, I sort of had an idea for that too right off the bat, but this one I didn’t fight. I hope you like them, and if you’d like to share how you were inspired, please link your work in the comments, and I’ll be sure to share it on my page as well.
She woke up to the golden dawn gently rolling through the window, setting everything on fire in its warm glow. With the morning came the realization, the reminder of the previous night. The faintest hint of a satisfied smile crept to the corners of her mouth that she tried to bite back. She stretched languidly, her bare flesh exposed to the golden glow; her peaks and valleys casting shadows on the figure beside her.
Sliding from the inviting warmth of the bed, her impression lingering, she moves silently to the window to take in the view. It’s almost as if she’s seeing it for the first time, it’s slightly different. Maybe it’s the early morning light…maybe it’s her frame of mind. She’d never thought to be satisfied with one person, to find happiness by saying two little words and gaining the world with a new one. She turned to take in the full form of her lover tangled in the sheets, a blush spreading from head to toe, and not from the warmth of the rising sun.
I had fallen hard. Through a roof of a suburban house. Four bedrooms, two and a half baths. It was sort of charming except for the fact that it looked just like every other one on the street. Everything hurt. I hadn’t experienced pain like this in a millennia. Not since the Great Battle of ’02, B.C. The light flicked on behind a closed door at the end of the hall, and the sliver of light grew wider with its opening. A small child holding her cat appeared in the doorway with large eyes. On a second look, no, not a cat.
I walked towards her, hoping to assuage her fears when I had to catch myself from sliding on the hardwood. Looking down, I discovered what had cushioned my fall. Despite my entire existence as a warrior, a vessel of reckoning, I grimaced at the sight. An involuntary shudder caused the loss of a few feathers, heavy in a blood not my own, nor the demon I had been fighting. Kneeling down, I reassured the small human that all would be well. In an instant, I restored all to right. The young woman had her life returned to her, and the memory of the angel in the hallway would be nothing but a bad dream.
Happy writing and have a great week!