She had always been impulsive, giving in to new ideas the moment she thought of them. You watched as she blossomed and bloomed, always glistening in the sunlight like she was covered by morning dew. But when she wanted to sink to the bottom of the ocean and rest like a shipwreck, you stopped her and made her think. She wanted to sit against the oceanfloor sand, bury her toes in it, and gaze towards the surface as if it was the night sky. Schools of fish would become constellations, each scale its own star glimmering with reflected moonlight.
Impulse pulses through her veins, pounding and throbbing through her body with every breath she takes. You try to reel her in, but the line always breaks. Her tears are salty, persuasion steeping her desires until you both know your fate is a plan she must premeditate.
Seafoam laced saltwater will burn her eyes when she floats on the ocean surface. The delicate froth will dissolve into her skin like the cheap bubbles in her bathtub. When she closes her eyes and allows herself to be swallowed by the sea, the blue surrounding her will fade to black until her body is muddied. She will lay flat against oceanfloor sand.
Whitehot tears run down your cheeks, mourning the loss of something so dear. It is as if your heart has been torn from your chest, the hollow where your heart once pumped warm blood left empty and void-frozen. You succumb to the cold, accept her fate. When she is swallowed by the sea, her body will weigh you down like an anchor and drag you down with it.
When you hold her down, her lips turn blue. You watch the turquoise in her eyes glimmer against the seafoam green ocean behind her. This is where she wanted to be buried – this is where she wanted to drown. You will come with me, won’t you? She asked as if it was the simplest question in the world, and you knew the only way to fill the hole in your heart was to wrap your hands around her throat yourself.
Notes:
Word: Seafoam – flipped through Salt Mouth Moss Queen by LM Cole for inspiration and found my mind thinking about foam-laced waves in the ocean.
Opposite: Oceanfloor sand
Seafoam laced saltwater burns your eyes as you float on the ocean surface, delicate froth dissolving into your skin like cheap bubbles in a bathtub. You close your eyes and allow yourself to be swallowed by the sea, blue fading to black until your body is muddied, laying flat against oceanfloor sand.
Change the pronouns:
Seafoam laced saltwater burns her eyes as she floats on the ocean surface, the delicate froth dissolving into her skin like cheap bubbles in a bathtub. She closes her eyes and allows herself to be swallowed by the sea, blue fading black until her body is muddied, laying flat against oceanfloor sand.
Change the narrative perspective:
Seafoam laced saltwater will burn her eyes when she floats on the ocean surface. The delicate froth will dissolve into her skin like the cheap bubbles in her bathtub. When she closes her eyes and allows herself to be swallowed by the sea, the blue surrounding her will fade to black until her body is muddied. She will lay flat against oceanfloor sand.
Pick another word: Whitehot – saw my empty Starbucks cup that had a white chocolate mocha in it yesterday. Hot, decaf.
Opposite: Blackcold. Extreme: Void-frozen.
Whitehot tears run down your cheeks, mourning the loss of something so dear. It is as if your heart has been torn from your chest, the hollow where your heart once pumped warm blood left empty and void-frozen.
Kill off your character or choose a different narrative perspective:
You succumb to the cold, accept her fate. When she is swallowed by the sea, her body will weigh you down like an anchor and drag you down with it.
Pick a third word: Impulse – picked up a book on my partner’s desk and flipped until I found a word I liked.
Disintegrating antonym: Premeditate
Impulse pulses through her veins with every breath she takes, but she wallows in it. She lets her tears soak her until you step in and intervene. You both know your downfall will be something she must premeditate.
Avoid adjectives, be sparse. No words of more than 6 letters.
Impulse pulses in her veins with every breath she takes, but wants steep into needs. She lets her tears soak her until you step in. You both know your fate will be a plan she must premeditate.
3 stories threaded together:
She had always been impulsive, giving in to new ideas the moment she thought of them. You watched as she blossomed and bloomed, always glistening in the sunlight like she was covered by morning dew. But when she wanted to sink to the bottom of the ocean and rest like a shipwreck, you stopped her and made her think. She wanted to sit against the oceanfloor sand, bury her toes in it, and gaze towards the surface as if it was the night sky. Schools of fish would become constellations, each scale its own star glimmering with reflected moonlight.
Impulse pulses through her veins, pounding and throbbing through her body with every breath she takes. You try to reel her in, but the line always breaks. Her tears are salty, persuasion steeping her desires until you both know your fate is a plan she must premeditate.
Seafoam laced saltwater will burn her eyes when she floats on the ocean surface. The delicate froth will dissolve into her skin like the cheap bubbles in her bathtub. When she closes her eyes and allows herself to be swallowed by the sea, the blue surrounding her will fade to black until her body is muddied. She will lay flat against oceanfloor sand.
Whitehot tears run down your cheeks, mourning the loss of something so dear. It is as if your heart has been torn from your chest, the hollow where your heart once pumped warm blood left empty and void-frozen. You succumb to the cold, accept her fate. When she is swallowed by the sea, her body will weigh you down like an anchor and drag you down with it.
When you hold her down, her lips turn blue. You watch the turquoise in her eyes glimmer against the seafoam green ocean behind her. This is where she wanted to be buried – this is where she wanted to drown. You will come with me, won’t you? She asked as if it was the simplest question in the world, and you knew the only way to fill the hole in your heart was to wrap your hands around her throat yourself.
Melissa Martini (she/her) is the Founder & EIC of Moss Puppy Magazine. A Capricorn from New Jersey, Melissa received her Master’s in English with a focus in Creative Writing from Seton Hall University. Her debut chapbook, Faded Fur & Stripped Skin, was published by Bottlecap Press.