Because what’s more confusing than a night at an insane carnival of butchery and madness?! Not a whole lot, really. Unless said carnival was underwater or falling out of the sky or something. But that’s a bit out of my boundaries to write in just five sentences! Dammit, Lillie McFerrin, I’m a writer not a miracle worker!
Wow, hey, this was a surprisingly brief little entry blurb. Imagine that!
Word of Inspiration: Confusion
Word Count: 115
Title: Night of Revels
The fireworks were spectacular- steel silver, blood red, fat-tissue gold… pops and screams in the kabooms, making the roar of the crowds seem even more… volatile.
“It’s nearly Showtime,” the Ringleader breathed, her whole body thrumming, “everybody’s in their positions: tightrope walkers on their chains, lions’ nails are sharpened, the knife-throwers have their targets tied down.”
“Tent’s full of warm bodies tonight, my dear,” the Ringleader’s husband said, practically squealing as he through the crimson fabric.
The Ringleader pulled at her long red hair, her iron-grey eyes flashed in the firelight, “It will be quite a show; give the command,” she whispered.
“Open the sluice gates,” the Ringleader’s husband shouted to the attendants who bit their nails to the nub in anticipation, “the red rivers are to flow tonight!”
- I also had this picture running through my head for most of the time I was writing. Thank you, Cult of Rakdos.
Well. Here we are again. At the bottom of the post. Nobody can see us down here. Not even Squidward’s House. We’re safe to safe whatever we want about whatever and whoever we want. And nooooobody can stop us!
It’d be rude for the host to talk first, so I’ll let you have the first word.
Well, you’re just a glowing conversationalist, aren’t you?
Okay, I’ll stop now (FOR NOW).
Good luck, you brave writer folk!