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Second post, second weird story I wrote.
CW (also spoils the end of the story): Implied death, nothing graphic
Less preamble this time just gonna get into it.
There’s a storm on its way, I don’t know what type; I’m not really good with that kind of thing but I can see it from here, feel its effects on the world. The wind is howling, the trees in the forest are shaking and the lake is rippling in every direction. The storm hasn’t gotten here yet but even now it’s pretty devastating, makes me wonder what will happen when it’s actually here in its full force.
It’s not raining yet, though it will be soon, droplets are already disrupting the other side of the lake. I don’t know why I’m still out here, waiting for it, dreading it... Am I dreading it? If I was really all that concerned I wouldn’t be standing out here at the shoreline, directly in the path of the that storm, feeling the spray from the crashing waves dampen my fur... It feels nice, I could almost forget about the storm, about everything that’s still yet to come
The rain is here now. It’s coming down in droves. I don’t have an umbrella or anything to stop it from soaking me down to my core. An umbrella wouldn’t work anyway, the wind would tear it up the moment I tried to open it. Might be comforting to have one regardless, the knowledge that I might still be able to use it, maybe the wind wouldn’t break it; maybe the umbrella would be strong enough to withstand it, the wind weak enough to let it live... It would be a comforting thought, too bad I don’t have one. I guess the rain can be nice too, feeling it drum against me, it’s almost a comforting pressure, reliable maybe, I can always count on the next drop finding me, comforting me, caressing me, seeping into me right down to my core.
The wind is getting stronger now, it’s worsening the rain too, whipping it into me. The wind is making me cold. I might have seen flashes of lightning a few times, although I’m not sure, I couldn’t hear the thunder afterwards but that might just be because the wind is filling my ears with its shrieks. Don’t storms have eyes? It gets worse just before the eye of the storm and then it becomes a blissful moment of peace? that’s what’s shown in movies anyway. Am I getting close the the eye of this storm? That would be nice, a bit of peace after all of this. Even if I have to go through it again to get out I would like to have that moment. A break from the cold, the wet, the loud... I’m getting pretty cold now.
Am I at the eye now? I don’t feel cold anymore, I can’t hear the wind berating my ears, I must be, right? But why do I still see the storm clouds? And the rain? But I can’t feel any of it anymore... I must be at the eye, I must be. I can’t make sense of this otherwise. This is that blissful moment. The moment I’m at peace. Where I don’t feel cold or wet or overwhelmed. Yeah, this isn’t so bad, I feel warm and dry and all fuzzy. The ground is surprisingly comfortable; I’m not sure when I got on the ground but it feels almost like a bed, like I could just go to sleep and wake up once this has all passed. That sounds nice. It has been a pretty long day. Maybe this storm will have passed by the time I wake up. That would be nice...
I can’t move, can’t feel my body anymore, I feel like I should be scared, like any normal person would be panicking, doing whatever they can to live, I’m not scared, there’s nothing I can do, that’s an almost comforting thought, the first thing in my life that I can be fully certain of, no more trying, no more failing, no more, no more...
Second story, fourth character that has died, I have a weirdly good track record with that; I have written more light-hearted stories, I just haven't finished writing any of them.
I really don't know what inspired this story, all I know is that I had a really easy time writing it. (my words per minute is typically really low but it was far higher with this story)
There is probably some metaphor you could find in this story, as to whether or not it's intentional... don't ask me, I just wrote the thing.
None of my writing or writing process involves AI on any level, I don't think my writing is good enough to pass as AI generated but I thought it was worth mentioning. (AI has the weirdest syntax that's only technically applicable when I just misuse semi-colon all the time)
I hope this was fun to read, any comments or favourites are always appreciated!
CW (also spoils the end of the story): Implied death, nothing graphic
Less preamble this time just gonna get into it.
There’s a storm on its way, I don’t know what type; I’m not really good with that kind of thing but I can see it from here, feel its effects on the world. The wind is howling, the trees in the forest are shaking and the lake is rippling in every direction. The storm hasn’t gotten here yet but even now it’s pretty devastating, makes me wonder what will happen when it’s actually here in its full force.
It’s not raining yet, though it will be soon, droplets are already disrupting the other side of the lake. I don’t know why I’m still out here, waiting for it, dreading it... Am I dreading it? If I was really all that concerned I wouldn’t be standing out here at the shoreline, directly in the path of the that storm, feeling the spray from the crashing waves dampen my fur... It feels nice, I could almost forget about the storm, about everything that’s still yet to come
The rain is here now. It’s coming down in droves. I don’t have an umbrella or anything to stop it from soaking me down to my core. An umbrella wouldn’t work anyway, the wind would tear it up the moment I tried to open it. Might be comforting to have one regardless, the knowledge that I might still be able to use it, maybe the wind wouldn’t break it; maybe the umbrella would be strong enough to withstand it, the wind weak enough to let it live... It would be a comforting thought, too bad I don’t have one. I guess the rain can be nice too, feeling it drum against me, it’s almost a comforting pressure, reliable maybe, I can always count on the next drop finding me, comforting me, caressing me, seeping into me right down to my core.
The wind is getting stronger now, it’s worsening the rain too, whipping it into me. The wind is making me cold. I might have seen flashes of lightning a few times, although I’m not sure, I couldn’t hear the thunder afterwards but that might just be because the wind is filling my ears with its shrieks. Don’t storms have eyes? It gets worse just before the eye of the storm and then it becomes a blissful moment of peace? that’s what’s shown in movies anyway. Am I getting close the the eye of this storm? That would be nice, a bit of peace after all of this. Even if I have to go through it again to get out I would like to have that moment. A break from the cold, the wet, the loud... I’m getting pretty cold now.
Am I at the eye now? I don’t feel cold anymore, I can’t hear the wind berating my ears, I must be, right? But why do I still see the storm clouds? And the rain? But I can’t feel any of it anymore... I must be at the eye, I must be. I can’t make sense of this otherwise. This is that blissful moment. The moment I’m at peace. Where I don’t feel cold or wet or overwhelmed. Yeah, this isn’t so bad, I feel warm and dry and all fuzzy. The ground is surprisingly comfortable; I’m not sure when I got on the ground but it feels almost like a bed, like I could just go to sleep and wake up once this has all passed. That sounds nice. It has been a pretty long day. Maybe this storm will have passed by the time I wake up. That would be nice...
I can’t move, can’t feel my body anymore, I feel like I should be scared, like any normal person would be panicking, doing whatever they can to live, I’m not scared, there’s nothing I can do, that’s an almost comforting thought, the first thing in my life that I can be fully certain of, no more trying, no more failing, no more, no more...
Second story, fourth character that has died, I have a weirdly good track record with that; I have written more light-hearted stories, I just haven't finished writing any of them.
I really don't know what inspired this story, all I know is that I had a really easy time writing it. (my words per minute is typically really low but it was far higher with this story)
There is probably some metaphor you could find in this story, as to whether or not it's intentional... don't ask me, I just wrote the thing.
None of my writing or writing process involves AI on any level, I don't think my writing is good enough to pass as AI generated but I thought it was worth mentioning. (AI has the weirdest syntax that's only technically applicable when I just misuse semi-colon all the time)
I hope this was fun to read, any comments or favourites are always appreciated!
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