I want to thank everyone who participated in Show & Tell and took time out of their busy schedules to sit down and write out an example to share on this blog. They are an amazing and talented group of writers.
With this being the final week, we changed things up a bit. Writers were given a choice of images to depict and let me just say…they did a great job.
Mark Souza: @souzawrites
Taggart, guns drawn, escorted Jessica through the mean streets of Neon City to safety.
The thing Taggart loved about Neon City was that a man could walk down the street with a gun in each hand and no one batted an eye. Steam rose up out of the grates above the streets like the hot breath of an enormous beast.
He warmed to the image of his city as a living thing, moody and dangerous. Rain slicked the ground creating two metropolises; the shimmering reflection of lights on asphalt which could be admired like impressionistic art, and the real thing with its jaws poised to snap shut on the unwary.
Jessica pressed into him, no stranger to the street. She walked close in a way that still allowed Taggart to swing his gun if he had to, and at the same time, maximized his body as a human shield. Taggart had long ago banished the misconception that love was involved with how close Jessica stood. It was self preservation pure and simple. What he hated about Neon City was that only a fool would think you could find true love in this town.
Michele Shaw: @veertothewrite
Jake knew they were lucky to be alive when he saw the empty chamber in his gun. He felt buzzed, pulling Shay closer, when he heard the wail of sirens. The bodies in the alley were still warm, and he needed to move through the heat of speeding cars and high-rise buildings before anyone showed up looking for payback.
Jake stepped from the body-strewn alley with smoke stinging his eyes, his last cigarette working to calm adrenaline-laced veins. The excitement of the kill, Shay gripping him as if he were a hero—nothing better.
Nighttime in the city released his anger. His pulse agreed with cars whizzing past, lights blaring in an offbeat cadence that revealed the grime and ugliness on every other throb, and heat rising between fifty-story glass monstrosities full of liars and thieves. Lucky for him, the ambush hadn’t boasted a movie star hero who could charge back with a gut full of metal. A click on his last pull had caused a half-second of panic. Though the nicotine began to even his high, rage, and lust, a Manhattan — needed to finish the job — would have to wait. The wailing sirens meant time to beat it, though the black car screaming toward them worried him more.
Hallie Sawyer: @Hallie_Sawyer
Without warning, guns fired from all directions. The captain frantically ordered return fire, just as he saw his top officer fall at his side. He knew he needed to push forward, away from the troop’s headquarters. He had to at any cost.
Acrid smoke exploded all around them, startling the army of red coats, marching through the bumpy creek bed like ants. The dense forest, rich with color yet deep in shadows, was supposed to have been the best route for them. Hiding their tracks among the rocky boulders and shallow waters.
Bellowing to return fire, the bile in his gut rose even further as his top officer crumpled just to his right, feeling the splash of water as he hit the ground. Flashes of light came from everywhere, resembling the flickering lights of fireflies in the dusk of summer. He trudged forward, lugging John’s body to cover as the musket fire boomed like cannons in closeness of the forest trees. Beads of sweat trickled down his face as he devised a plan to lead his men out of this chaos, away from the innocent townsfolk and the regime setting up headquarters at the moment only a mile away. Hiding John’s body in the cover of some giant ferns, he pushed off and began firing in the direction of the tiny explosion coming from the trees. His vision became tunnel-llke as he picked off blue coats, swearing he’d get his men out of here safely, no matter the cost.
Julie Anne Lindsey: @JulieALindsey
I pulled the curtain behind me. I was finally alone with the box, alone with the secrets. The light beneath the lid was brilliant and as I gazed upon the contents, my breathing stopped. It was beautiful and I never wanted to close the lid. It was part of me now.
Alone behind the curtain, my heart raced and spluttered. I was finally alone with the box. My hands trembled against the lid as I caressed each plane and valley with my fingertips. Breath caught in my throat as I watched the illumination rise up and flow out over the top. Golden hues of vapors and magic swirled over my fingertips and mingled with the air between us. The box and I would soon be one.
Charissa Weaks: @charissaweaks
She held the last that remained of him, her heart breaking in silence. The others watched her as she looked into the eyes of the machine, longing to see the eyes of the man she had loved.
Dimitri and Sarge stood at the entrance of the warehouse watching Carina share a last moment with Valek.
“She loved him,” Dimitri whispered as he noticed the way she touched and studied the face she now held in her hands.
“She knew it was impossible,” Sarge muttered. His fists clenched at the thought of her mourning the loss of a machine. “Machines can’t love.”
“No, but humans can. And she didn’t know he was a machine,” Dimitri replied, feeling the need to defend her.
“I can’t watch this.” Sarge huffed, sliding his weapon into the holster on his leg. “I’ll wait back at the tank.”
Dimitri nodded, and turned his eyes back to Carina. She searched the eyes of the machine for something she would not find, the man she longed for had vanished, burned away to nothing but a lump of metal. She touched the face where his warm lips should have been and tears flooded her milky skin.
Dimitri remembered Valek holding her, kissing her. He remembered delicate hands soothing her and wiping her tears. Not like a machine. Like a man. Like a man in love with a woman.
Impossible love indeed, he thought. But love nonetheless.