creative minds

My feet dragged painfully across the hot and sharp cobbled road as my hands - blooded and swollen from the desperate grasp for freedom - pulled my weakened body.  I endured many days incarcerated within an air tight container - kidnapped - for what I know now…a jealous lover to my husband, desperate to gain full access to the love she endured during his time of betrayal to me.  My mind else where, prevented the pain from worsening as I made my long and agonsing journey to - where ?  I had no idea where I was. 
The sun was beating down on me - my long dark hair sticking around my face as the persperation greatened with every passing second. My clothes, torn and riddled with dirt…clung to my malnorished body.  
My narrowed eyes released blured vision - darting within their sockets to gain full site.  My site regained as I pulled myself to my kness. 
My pounding heart began to slow its pace as I concentrated my gaze upon the empty fields that boardered the cobbled roadway…the green grass a luxury to my eyes.  I rested upon this spot for a while…having no idea of the day or time…it seemed forever.  The heat from the sun withdrew from my skin as the tempreature dropped, and the much needed day light soon turned to a dismal and petrifying darkness.  The emotions of the entrapment soon came rushing back…as the only light present, was the dimness of the moon.
The darkness carried my breath as I clenched into my knees, my distorted breath chilling my spine as my nerves dashed wildly with fear - scared to breath- scared to cry - any sound through the darkness gradually becoming my enemy.
Through the darkness, lights from the distance approached.  The beames raced across the emptiness, stinging my eyes as they moved closer to me.  I dived to the floor as the lights halted.  A creak emptied through the emptiness…my body quivering with fear. 
I huddled even tighter to myself as footsteps passed over the roughness of the road.  Manly footsteps…heavy and slow.  They halted before me.  Too scared to look, I quivered beneath, then suddenly - a touch fell upon my shoulder.  I screamed hysterically, my cries echong through the emptiness.
   ‘It’s ok…don’t be scared, let’s get you home.’
   I felt warm for once.  He was a stranger…but he knew me. I had been on the news. I had been missing for five months, moved from one destination to another.  He was passing by and saw me, he knew then - who I was - and the jealous lover, well…she’s the one incarcerated now.

It is very important to try and write something every day.  If out and about…the scenery can spark an idea - or something someone says.  Dreams are also very important if you like to write.  Not only the dream itself…but also how you feel when you dream.  It’s a good idea to keep a note book handy by your bed at night so you can jot down that ‘tension - excitement’etc you may be feeling during the dream - it will hep to build a characters feelings.

‘Don’t hurt me!’ Exclaimed Katy as she coward beneath his waist line.  ‘Please don’t hurt me!’ 
Her jealous boyfriend just found out about her three years affair, his blood boiling as he pictured - that - snobby - little runt giving pleasure to his girlfriend of ten years.  His eyes thundering with anger…filled with a puddle of tears as his body ruptured - his knuckles whitening from the tightening fist he held.
He looked down upon her cowering.  He loved her - there was no way he would hurt her.  He reached down to her and pulled her towards him - her eyes red from the soreness of the flowing tears - the regret eating at her as she gazed into his narrowed eyes.  He eased his breath before holding her tight…’I would never harm you, I love you, but you have hurt me.  You might aswell have dug a knife into my heart to drain my blood… the pain would’ve been the same - how can I trust you now?’
   ‘I’m sorry - so - so - sorry!’
It would take a few weeks for him to forgive her, but his love for her overpowered the bad feelings.  Love is stronger - no matter how bad the situation.  That’s when he knew he really loved her - he couldn’t walk out and leave her…vice versa.

Hand in hand we strolled through the busy sandy beaches…the golden glow of the sun beating down upon us.  Newly wed and much in love as we halted by the shore.  My pink bikini revealed my glowing tan, and his muscular body deeply tanned - pinned against mine.  We kissed, the beating waves splashing against our revealed skin as the shore drew closer.  Our love, and the rest of our lives…now full of warmth and growing passion…

His warm lips kissed the side of her neck, his hand brushing her long black, silky hair from her bare shoulders, and her head askew as she fell deep within his magical touch.  Her body weakened as he cradled her within his arms, his manly arms… keeping her safe from her fears delving within.
   The open fire glowed within the darkness - the raging flames licking at the blistering wood as they cradled one anothers naked bodies upon the deep piled carpet.  Their puckering lips smacked together as they gazed loveingly into one anothers eyes - the glow of the fire sparkling the love within them…as a long night of passion was imminent - the feeling strong; and developing more and more as the intimacy developed…
  

I sank under my purple feathered duvet of my king sized bed, and my puffy pillow hugged around my ears.  The bitter night drew a howling breeze that echoed through the tiny gap of my window opposite - the pink silk curtains blowing slightly from the growing breeze.  I threw the duvet to one side…as I slid my body round and placed my bare feet upon the cold and bare - natural wooden flooring, and made my way towards the window- my white night shirt flowing as I approached closer.  I stood within the darkness and peered out of my window - my warm breath misting the chilled pane.  As I gazed out of the window - a dark figure standing within the bare fields grasped my attention.  I questioned myself - am I tired?  I did think it was just me.  Outside - the blanket of darkness carried many fears as I lived alone, my imagination - my worst enemy.  But…the mysterious figure suddenly scurried across the field - halting a few minutes before moving closer towards my house.  My heart was pounding and my breath deepening as I broke out into a cold sweat…I’m alone and frightened, and not one neighbour in sight - I’m totally alone.
   BANG! A sudden slam of the door down stairs echoed through the emptiness - my focus upon the landing distracted me from outside - the figure no longer in view - but the feeling of not being alone swam through my veins as my frantic breath filtered the darkness.  I cautiously made my way towards my bedroom door and peered my head around the corner, a sudden icy presence surrounded me - preventing me from moving, I tried to scream but nothing came out - forced to grin and bear the sudden intrusion.  Who is it?  I’m not alone!

The pounding of my heart as I waunder through the deserted streets of my home town … awakens the reality of the memory loss I endured, the sudden lapse of my history - for a reason - not known to me - emerging a stranger… in a desperate hunt for a personality that had once exisited.  
   The street lined with erected houses that margined me like two rows of soldiers - called to me- as I strolled down the centre of the empty road - the hollowness bounced the echo of the whisper repeatedly, but the whisper just wasn’t loud enough - the calling distancing to my ears, and my thoughts incarcerating me from my own freedom…
   the blanket of coldness surrounding me is becoming worse…where am I? what’s happening - not only to me…but also my family, who am I?
  

A summers day blooms the most beautiful flowers - both colours and scents.  A blanket of wild flowers - bordered by evergreen trees…attracts lovers to delve within their cushioned aroma.  The golden glow within the purest blue sky…beats down upon those who wish to appreciate the natural beauty.  
   A visit to the beauty spot - a handful of flowers picked - destined to be given to a mother or lover.  Tulips, bluebells, orchids, for-get-me-nots,buttercups,daises - and a single Red Rose - bedded between the mulitiple colours.
   A gentle touch falls upon the single rose - his finger tips stroking at the soft petals before strolling down the stem and then…SNAPP!…the single red rose is taken.  For who?  His Mother? or his lover?  
   He has someone with him - and strolls through the flowers…following the same path out that lead them in…the rose clasped within one hand as his fingers on his other hand tickled hers - her chuckle echoing as they reached the end.  Their heads askew as they kissed goodbye - him going his way, and her the other…as a kiss upon her fingers is blown towards him.
  Parted he heads home - a police lady sitting with his children - their eyes full of sorrow as they lifted their heads - the police lady stands and approaches him…’i'm sorry sir, your wife is dead.’
  The disheartening words distanced as he thought of his guilt - he was out with his lover - when he should have been with their mother.
   ’she tried calling you sir, her car broke down, but she couldn’t get through - the children came home with their aunt today - luckily - as a lorry struck - she had no chance.’ 
   The rose relased from his hand and come to rest upon the floor - his seven year old daughter approached and picked the rose up…’is this for mummy? She would’ve loved it daddy.’
   His head fell with shame,and a river of tears carried his guilt - his daughters hand clasping his…’i'll look after you daddy!

Creativity is a gift.  Whether painting - drawing or writing.  To beable to create, enables us - not only to express feelings, but also open a door to a creative future.  Only us - as writers - are able to connect to a world of fantasyand bring it to LIFE.    Your characters you create become - almost like a friend - sound CRAZY a - but very true.  While you write - you become that character, feel what the character feels and become drawn into the story yourself.  This helps of course, using your own feelings and thoughts - how you would feel in a terrifying situation.  Collecting the symptoms of your solitary feeling- enables your characters to become realistic.  But most important of all - your READER!
  Of course, as a writer, we already feel what the characters feel, but, If the reader is un-able to feel the TENSION - NERVOUSNESS - HAPPINESS  ETC then they are missing out on your CREATIVE MIND. 
    Taking a break from the writing is crucial to creating a succesful piece of work.  Ok - we all want to get it FINISHED, but tiredness can and will affect our writing.   When our work is complete and sent off - we want to beable to say -

‘That was a great read’  and most importantly - PUBLISHERS to beable to say it!

1) EYH I MA TTIHC
2)I MA 33 YREAS LOD
3)I MA MAIRERD
4)YM HSUBNAD SI CIV
5)I HVAE 3 KDIS
6)I MA A WRIRTE
7)I LVOE OT OG NO CPOMUERT =]
8)I LVOE YM LFIE
9)GTO LTOS FO FERNIDS
10)I HVAE 1 GOD DNA 1 ACT
SCROOL DOWN FOR ANSWERS =]

1)HEY I AM TITCH
2)I AM 33 YEARS OLD
3)i AM MARRIED
4)MY HuSBAND IS VIC
5)I HAVE 3 KIDS
6)I AM A WRITER
7)I LOVE TO GO ON THE COMPUTER
8)I LOVE MY LIFE
9)GOT LOTS OF FRIENDS
10)I HAVE ONE DOG AND ONE CAT

     HOPE U ENJOYED MY LITTLE PUZZLE
                            =]