Date: 12-2-2020

I've reused character names, but treat them as normal people and not what might be portrayed in Varying Perspectives. 

1. Write a line with emotional weight.

Mark pleaded for him to understand what he had to go through, the struggle of a choice that twisted him past his breaking point, but André didn't listen. He never did.

2. Write a line that delivers a truth, message or meaning 

It was in that moment that I realised, it didn't matter what you said to push people away; the barbed palisades you put up to hide secrets from those you deem unworthy; the beaky noses and prying fingers always make their way in. Because everyone has to know. And when everyone knows, someone is bound to find out. 

3. Write a line that is suspenseful.

Jewel stepped forward, eyeing the swaying edge of the rock and the roiling ocean beneath, mirroring the dark talons of cloud spilling across the sky, thinking back to the words the man had messily inscribed on her arm the night before.

"Step off the cliff. Enter my world."

4. Write a story in one sentence.

The sorcerer steps forward and chants his tale in a proud, resonating voice-- seemingly unaware that all of his audience is long dead. 

The Story of Line 3

The sky was furious on the day Jewel left, clouds merging together into a great mass of pewter fog, tendrils of the pure white smoke of the factory's fires coiling through the raindrops. Hickory Mountain was her destination, she wasn't turning back now. Her car sputtered and groaned in the ice of the storm , the engine heaving a relieved sigh when the young woman finally pulled the handbrake.

No turning back.

Jewel tried to use a hand to block the pellets of rain from her eyes, rather ineffective in the long run, as she trod the path of murderers and two suicidal adults that still weighed down her heart.

No turning back.

She reminded herself what she dislikes about home as the grumbling sky yawned over her knitted bobble-cap.

No turning back.

Jewel stepped forward, eyeing the cliff edge sitting before her, hazy in the mist of rain, a door to an ocean mirroring the dark sky. She pulled up her sleeve and hastily read the words inscribed on her arm the night before, the words that spilled over her skin and told her future.

'1. Step off the cliff.'

'2. Enter my world.'

The last step she thumbed with a cold smile, whispering the words in a steamy breath clouding the sharp air. Her last words, unheard by anyone but the tempest surrounding her very being.

"Three. No turning back."