The Letter Poem

*A poem, written using only words from a letter sent by a schoolboy to rocket scientists in Australia*

Urgent, you put me in my rocket ship.
A radio designed by rolls royce, here.
Me, guided by a radar navigator to Victoria.
Designed by a top scientist, Ariel.
Jet engines fired, to pilot in South Australia.
Missiles, individually in chute.
Other details: markings, air, antenna, etc.
Please, write to me (can be a letter) at Morialloc: 26 st.

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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?

If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.

Greeting

Today's entry is Greeting. Instead of the usual entry, which would just be written, I have composed a song, for which the music can be listened to here.

Hello, I greet you.
Good day, nice to meet you.

How fares your life in this crazy time?

If only a meeting,

So nice as a greeting,

Could guarantee your love for this heart of mine.

In summer, I met thee.

Yet you hardly know me.

I sought thy company for days on end.

Yet seasons keep flowing,

And ever it's showing,

A greeting alone, a heart will not mend.

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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?

If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.

Free Post - Practice Exam

Since the author of the Practice Makes Pretense book on wattage had to take a day off due to an exceptionally long post, it's a free writing day.


I've been taking the practice exam for an upcoming test. I find it relatively easy to address exams, I have no problem with the pressure they bring, but wording is always so important on them.


The difference between 'all of these are true except' and 'none of these are true except', and knowing 'which option is the best' out of four good options, but one which is correctly the 'right choice' can be a tough thing to address.


Once I know the outcome of my exam, I'll mention it here. Since it is a bit related to my job, though, the grade is not all that important, just more of whether I pass, and if so in how many tries.


Good luck to me. After days of study and hours of practice exams, I'm pumped, and I am also ready to put this course behind me. (It has been a long week, and it is only Sunday! Haha)

Edit: Passed the exam first try, with acc hour of time left.

Dragon

Soft leathery wings flapping in the air, brilliant mosaic scales, and sharp flashing fangs. The majestic figure was truly awe inspiring.

A courier walked up to it, opened it's maw, and shoved some packages within. The he left, the dragon mailbox, now hoarding its treasure.

Shortly after noon, the owner of the mailbox arrived to pick the packages up. Using its claws, it pressed the switch on the tail, causing the packages to fly out of the back, and land safely within the basket it carried for convenience.

The dragon lifted off with a beat of its wings, and took its mail back to the cave at the top of the mountain. "Ah, online shopping is the best." It said, as it left its mailbox behind.

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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?

If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.

Friendship

Inside the dorm, there was a sobbing, just barely audible from the hallway. In the other rooms, studying, playing, sleeping, and eating were all underway, but not in room 320.

"I don't understand any of it." Virginia said, weeping openly. "I mean, we had been together for 3 years, and he never said anything about having second thoughts about our relationship. Everything seemed to be going so well, why did he leave me?"

"V, I am so sorry this happened. But you can get through this. I will be here for you, I am here to listen. Talk to me, get it out." Scott said.

"I..." she sobbed, "feel so selfish bothering you with all my problems. You are totally my best friend, and I know it must suck to spend time with a sad sack like me."

"None of that." He replied. "I know that I have been in much the same situation in the past, and you were there for me too. That's what friendship is about. I want to be here for you. I will do everything I can to support you. But I know that more often than not, what is needed is an ear to hear you. A shoulder to cry on. So that's what I am going to do, hear you out. It's ok."

Scott pulled Virginia in for a hug. The warmth of his embrace felt so good, she burst into even more tears. She felt so many things. It felt good that her best friend was supporting her, she was still torn up inside about how Ben had dumped her, and she was angry with herself most of all for believing his lies the last month.

"I thought we were good. I spent time with him, we did what he liked, we had so many things in common. When he told me he had been cheating on me with Jason, I was willing to let it go. I wanted to make it work, but for him to say that he was breaking up with me for him... was I just not enough for Ben?"

"Oh, V. You know these kinds of things aren't about the other person. There is nothing wrong with you. People grow apart, it happens. I mean, you two had been going out since high school. Not many high school relationships last a year into college. But if anyone should feel bad, it's him. It might not have been easier, but he should have told you sooner."

"I just don't know what to do." Virginia said, her tears slowing a little, as Scott continued to comfort her in a hug.

"You don't need to do anything. Just take some time. Allow yourself time to process. That's the best thing anyone can do with something like this." Scott let her go, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small stone. It was beautiful, smooth, colorful, but with a huge crack in the middle. The crack had been filled in with a golden filling before being polished again.

"Take this. It's my lucky stone. It comes from the Japanese tradition of Kintsukuroi. The story goes that in Japan, when a valuable item breaks, they repair it with gold, because in embracing the imperfections, and even highlighting them, the object becomes even more beautiful. The cracks, filled in with the gold, show that even broken things have value. I know things are difficult now. Even if your heart is breaking, you still have value, and you can get through this. I can't guarantee things will get better, but I promise I will be by your side."

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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?

If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.

Animals

They sat down around the table, which was carefully set with the utensils. A silver platter was placed on the center, between the candles and many side dishes. It was all very well-to-do, being that they were high society.

"Billy, did you have a good day at school?" Martha asked.

"Nah." He responded, "The kids at school suck. I am far more interested in the trampoline, than school." His father looked over at him.

"Now, Billy, you know you need to study hard, if you want to make it like we did. It was your great-great grandfather, bless his beard, that brought us from rags to riches, and you must study or you won't be able to support yourself." He said. Bob did not study very hard, but then again, he had inherited the ranch, which was why the family was so wealthy.

"Anyway, let's dig in, shall we?" Martha said. The servant lifted the lid off the succulent, delicious human prepared on the dish. Truly, a feast fit for only the greatest goats there were.

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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?

If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.

Dream Catcher

He stalks the darkness, searching for them. They are terrible, frightening, and worth a lot. If he can catch even one tonight, he will be provided enough food to feed someone for a week.

There it was, a lascivious black, with sparkling silver hair, yet with a menacing aura. Beautiful, if not for how aggressive it was. All around it on the ground, sparks of purple and gold, flying like electricity, but not illuminating the area. Otherworldly, the night mare. He readied his net.

The man leapt from his cover, flinging the net wide. In a flash, the nightmare was caught. It struggled and squirmed, but alas, it was caught and could not escape. He pulled out a flute, and started playing a gentle lullaby.

As he played, the mare grew calm. The dark, menacing aura weakening, and the sparks softening until they became a pale mist, dancing in the moonlight. When he had finished, he removed the dream-catcher. He no longer needed it, for this was no longer a nightmare.

He mounted the dream, and rode her to the village. When he arrived, he went to the market, selling the mare, and being offered the food they had set aside for him. He then traveled to the home of the wise man, who had preserved the practice of making the dream-catchers.

"A calm night to you, Dibikad." The hunter said to the wise man.

"I see you have returned from another hunt. Tell me, what did you see?" Dibikad answered.

"The many children who placed the sacred hoops above their beds tonight had a dream of floating on the river." He responded. The elder nodded slowly.

"They may never know the story why, but the tradition brings peace. Do you now leave to go with the spirits once more?" Dibikad asked.

"I have left the horse, and taken the offering given freely. I will move as the wind." He replied, as he turned to leave. "Look to your next vision for when I return."

So the tribe once again had honored the spirits, and their nights were pleasant and calm.

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This blog post is part of a series of stories associated with Practice makes pretense, in which a collection of writing done in response to prompts is compiled. Then, the reader should answer the following two questions: 1) What was your favorite thing about the writing? 2) What did you feel as you read it?

If you would like to view the original, please visit the Practice makes pretense book on Wattpad, and respond to the writer.