ThisYouWillDo's First Assignment

[Dragon's muse]

Welcome to the block!

Craft a scene/chapter/story with the following opening:

Richard drank the last of the wine, and flung the glass against the wall, raining shards of crystal onto the carpet.

[ThisYouWillDo]

Richard drank the last of the wine, and flung the glass against the wall, raining shards of crystal onto the carpet. He flung it with all his force - such force that the tiny pieces of glass flew backwards into the room, landing on the floor near her feet, shining like so many diamonds. She looked coolly at Richard, sipping from her own glass, silently taunting him. There was a fire of rage burning inside him, twisting upwards from deep inside and flaring through his eyes as he glared at her, wanting to incinerate her where she sat. With just one look.

Hate intoxicates. And how he hated her now. His head swam with loathing, with the giddiness of disgust and abhorrence. He wanted to destroy her – to rend her apart, to throw the pieces on the fire. And to scatter the ashes to the winds. That would make him feel good. That would release his anger. To be free of his rage, he had to cause her pain. Yet he was powerless to do so. She had taken all he had from him and she was enjoying his torment as he realised she would never ever let him get it back. Her cool, cruel taunting gaze, told him he had lost and she had won. His anger said he would never forgive her.

Hate intoxicates; anger destroys. He swept the plates and the food from the table and they clattered to the floor. He picked up a steak knife and stabbed it into the table-top in total frustration. The tip was driven into the hard wood a full inch. And the blade snapped from its handle. Unable to stop it, or pull it away, his hand slid down the edge of the razor-sharp blade and severed an artery. Richard stared at the blood spurting from his wrist. This was real, he thought. And it was bad – very bad. He looked at her, appealing.

She got up from the table, her feet crushing the glass lying around her and sticking into the bottom of her shoes. She gently touched his shoulder as she passed, and said “Goodbye, Richard.”

[Dragon's muse]

Just a quick note to let you know i have seen this and will get to it for a thorough R&R (read and review) this afternoon or tomorrow morning.

rose

[ThisYouWillDo]

Thanks. Any time to suit you - I'm in no hurry. :-)

[Dragon's muse]

Bravo! Bravissimo!

Powerful stuff. You get inside the head of an outraged male very easily. (remind me not to piss you off.) Excellent characterization. i was a bit put off by the sentence fragments at first, but on the second reading, i realized they enhanced the expression of the strong emotions.

What are you doing in level I? Get upstairs to the tender (or not so tender) mercies of Aussiegirl.

Richard drank the last of the wine, and flung the glass against the wall, raining shards of crystal onto the carpet. He flung it with all his force - such force that the tiny pieces of glass flew backwards into the room, landing on the floor near her feet, shining like so many diamonds. She looked coolly at Richard, sipping from her own glass, silently taunting him. There was a fire of rage burning inside him, twisting upwards from deep inside and flaring through his eyes as he glared at her, wanting to incinerate her where she sat. With just one look.

Hate intoxicates. ( And how he hated her now. His head swam with loathing, with the giddiness of disgust and abhorrence. He wanted to destroy her – to rend her apart, to throw the pieces on the fire. (,) And to scatter the ashes to the winds. That would make him feel good. That would release his anger. To be free of his rage, he had to cause her pain. Yet, he was powerless to do so. She had taken all he had from him and she was enjoying his torment, as he realised she would never ever let him get it back. Her cool, cruel taunting gaze, told him he had lost and she had won. His anger said he would never forgive her.

Hate intoxicates; anger destroys. He swept the plates and the food from the table and they clattered to the floor. He picked up a steak knife and stabbed it into the table-top in total frustration. The tip was driven into the hard wood a full inch. And the blade snapped from its handle. Unable to stop it, or pull it away, his hand slid down the edge of the razor-sharp blade and severed an artery. Richard stared at the blood spurting from his wrist. This was real, he thought. And it was bad – very bad. He looked at her, appealing.

She got up from the table, her feet crushing the glass lying around her and sticking into the bottom of her shoes. She gently touched his shoulder as she passed, and said “Goodbye, Richard.”

[ThisYouWillDo]

Thank-you, thank-you.

Just finding my feet. Let me stay a little longer, please. They say it's cold up there in level 2 ... so, pretty please <bats eyelids>.

Besides, it could be beginner's luck.

TYWD

I won't even argue over punctuation, promise!