There is a community on LJ that I am a part of called 100_words. You're supposed to write anything you want, but it must be 100 words exactly. I've done 2 so far. I'll post them here as well from now on.
The first one was posted on January 18, 2010. It was called "Dance"
"It takes more than just words to say how it feels. The warmth of your skin. The depth of your eyes. You are breathtaking, dancing around the room to the beat of your own drum. You are smiling and laughing, and I’m lightheaded from it all. You look my way and flash a grin, and I am gone. How can I think when you look like that? You are so close when we embrace, but you are still so far away when we part. You are everything, I am nothing, and we could be something if you danced with me."
The second one was posted June 13th, 2010. It was called "Skin"
"I find myself dreaming of you. I imagine your hands on my waist and my hair. I think of your lips on my collarbone. I dream of the sounds you’d make as we twisted and turned under the sheets. I think of this like a play. I picture the exposition, as we’d make eyes over dinner. I picture the inciting incident: that first kiss. The rising action as you brought me closer to the edge. The climax as it all became too much. The falling action as we slowed down. The resolution as we stopped and you held me close."
The first one was posted on January 18, 2010. It was called "Dance"
"It takes more than just words to say how it feels. The warmth of your skin. The depth of your eyes. You are breathtaking, dancing around the room to the beat of your own drum. You are smiling and laughing, and I’m lightheaded from it all. You look my way and flash a grin, and I am gone. How can I think when you look like that? You are so close when we embrace, but you are still so far away when we part. You are everything, I am nothing, and we could be something if you danced with me."
The second one was posted June 13th, 2010. It was called "Skin"
"I find myself dreaming of you. I imagine your hands on my waist and my hair. I think of your lips on my collarbone. I dream of the sounds you’d make as we twisted and turned under the sheets. I think of this like a play. I picture the exposition, as we’d make eyes over dinner. I picture the inciting incident: that first kiss. The rising action as you brought me closer to the edge. The climax as it all became too much. The falling action as we slowed down. The resolution as we stopped and you held me close."