in the words of the challenge mistress herself:

Welcome to week sixteen of the Writer’s Weekend! Every week I’ll post a picture of your prompt. And the prompt will be posted no later than Friday at midnight(EST). I invite all writers, no matter your genre or your style, to try your hand at this challenge. Short, long, prose, poetry, I welcome all!

Your challenge…to write a piece that meets the prompt. Once completed, please link yourself in the comments and crow your success on twitter under the hashtag #WeekendWriter! If you don’t have a blog to post to, please feel free to post it in the comments!

So…without further due…here’s the challenge!

This week you get a photo of random objects. (actually, this is the corner of my desk).

Do with it what you will…this is a more free form exercise!

…freeform…?  *giggles a little hysterically*  you said it, Aisling!

pure subjective

I walked the boundaries of the room, smoking incessantly, conducting the orchestras that poured their music through my head.  Every now and again, the ash would fly from the end of my cigarette and puff an explosion against the white walls.  Small grey streaks here and there marred the pristine surface as I passed them again and again.  Lazy curls of smoke twisted through the rays of sunlight streaming in through the high, barred windows, creating roses and icosahedra, random words in mysterious ancient languages, scenes of the past and the future.

A growl from the middle of the room distracted me, and the orchestra ground to a discordant halt in a tuneless series of squeaks and farts.

Yes? I snapped, impatiently.

The small, winged pug scowled at me–quite a feat to tell that apart from his normal expression of sour and foul humour–and I noticed the small pile of ash that had landed on the end of his nose.

Oops.  Sorry about that, Malechio, I said.  I hurried from the path of my usual circuit, ignoring the discomfort of the break from my routine, and reached to brush the offending detritus away.

I swore as my fingers passed right through his face and I nearly overbalanced.  Looks like you’re on your own, my dear, I said, as I retreated to the well-worn path around the perimeter.

Grumbling, the dog put his nose to the floor and used his paw to wipe away the ash.

I raised my arms in preparation for restarting the symphony of the æther, when I was distracted again.  Frozen with my arms high in the air, I watched as the blank wall opposite me twitched, then bulged outwards, ever so slightly.  Shaking my head, I dismissed it as an optical illusion.  I heard a high pitched giggle from somewhere close by, and thought that yes, it was quite funny that someone who spent their entire day interacting with their own hallucinations should dismiss an optical illusion.  But there you have it.  Hallucinations are, after all real, are they not?  Dropping my arms for a moment–they were beginning to ache–I glanced to Malechio for confirmation, but he had rolled onto his side and was dozing peacefully, one white-feathered wing crushed underneath him at an awkward angle, the other flung out far behind him.  I sighed and cursed the pug, then thought better of my intended action of straightening his crooked wing.  After all, last time the ungrateful little shit had bitten me.  His teeth had passed right through my hand of course, and…oh, yes – of course, I couldn’t touch him, could I?  But anyway…  even so…  nevertheless.  Ungrateful little shit.  I smiled fondly.

That giggling was starting to get on my nerves–how in hell was I supposed to hear the orchestras with that nonsense drowning them out?  I ground my teeth in frustration and immediately the giggling stopped.

Oh.  I suppose that would be me, then?

With a sigh, I lifted my arms once more, and was again distracted by the optical illusion.  Keeping my jaw locked to stem the incipient giggling, I watched the wall to see what the optical illusion would do next.  It might, after all be a new and different hallucination, and would need to be dealt with in some manner or other.  Before I knew it, the wall had bulged yet again, forming itself into an endless tunnel, stretching so far away that the vertigo made me queasy.  I whimpered a little and then watched as something stirred in the depths of the tunnel far, far away.  It rapidly grew and soon I could hear the thunder of hooves coming closer and closer, and closer and closer and closerandcloserandcloser….

I fell to the floor screaming as the horse thundered out of the tunnel and ran directly over me, disappearing through the wall behind me.

Curled into a ball with my arms over my head, I gibbered and whimpered as Malechio snorted, soft and disdainful, in his sleep.


P.S. Aisling, my lovely,  i. want. your. desk!