Short Creative Writing

[Guest Nettie_Bug]

Hihi! 

 

So since I've been stagnant recently in the sense that I haven't been productive or improving myself, so I thought I'd share a piece of writing with you all in the faintest hope that I can start writing again. This was written two years ago, I think, so it probably isn't the best piece- I'm sorry! TW: MENTIONS OF GORE AND DEATH. 

 

The aged pocket watch was clutched within the woman’s hand, and her grip was that of a boa constrictor wrapped around its prey. Her eyes were fixated on the dulled aurous lid of the circular object with the intensity of a mother watching her child. It was as if the watch was her lifeline. Every time the carriage that guarded her violently shook, her grasp tightened in fear of losing her most prized possession. Her husband’s watch. She stroked the lid tenderly as the carriage juddered onwards, caressing the watch’s golden casing as an act of longing, listening to the soothing tick of the time passing by, reminding her that the one she loved would be home soon. The delicate golden chain was entangled with her fingers, and each entwined link of metal reminded her to be just as strong.

 

His heart stuttered within his ribcage, forcefully pulsing whenever the ground beneath him convulsed from the man made earthquakes that tore apart the once idyllic landscape that had now been ravaged by war. The once serene green fields had now been made murky brown by the eruption of bombs, and there were blooms of crimson that had pooled across the abused terrain. Discarded weapons of the fallen were dropped haphazardly into the mud, forgotten in the midst of conflict -just like the man who lay dying, as the ticking of his heart began to slow.

 

Rain pelted relentlessly from the sky, assaulting the woman’s umbrella as she clambered out from the safety of the carriage and into the desolate London avenue. From beneath the shield that protected her from the cascades of rain, she surveyed the grimy street that surrounded her: the faint glow that emitted from the glimmering street lamps; the time-worn cobblestone path that had become unusually smooth from being ill-treated underfoot; the random scattering of trees which were the only source of green in the city; and the fog which was gradually dissipating due to the persistent deluge of rainfall.

 

Blood oozed through his fingers as he pressed his hand to the wound. It was an act of futility, and he knew it, yet he fought against the waves of pain that washed over him. His adrenaline had abandoned him, leaving him with agonising convulsions and an unsettling fatigue that had wrapped around his body, rendering him weak. Useless. Vulnerable. His fingers that had previously been splayed over the fatal injury now lay on the ground, as powerless as their owner.

 

A mangled whimper left the woman's lips as the watch nestled in her palm made a rather disturbing jarring noise. The ticking had stopped. It was broken. Her delicate forefinger traced the elegant engraving of her husband's name, and a fluttering rose in her heart at the thought of being with her beloved again. It's only a watch, she told herself, not a bad omen- my darling is fine.  

 

 

I know this is very cliche, but at the time I was fascinated by heartbreak and star-crossed lovers. I originally had it so that the wife was pregnant, but she lost the baby at the same time as her husband. I thought that was a little much, in all honesty. If you read this, thank you so much! I hope this will give me the motivation I need.