Showing posts with label story brewin'. Show all posts
Showing posts with label story brewin'. Show all posts

Thursday, 1 November 2012

And so it's Nov the 1st (depending on where you live)

So I've started, this morning as soon as I woke up :) well pretty much. Anyway want to hear it?
(disclaimer: I won't be posting here all the time, and I'm just writing enough to be cruel ;-) )

Down the dark, dank, cobbled streets of London the sister's trudged. They passed a beggar/child with sightless staring eyes and a steaming, feverish brow that had turned his sooty face to a mottled grey. A hat lay beside a wasted arm, there was barely a coin in it, but the sister's ignored his plaintive cries and carried on into the deeper filth of London's East-end.

An icy wind breathed down the narrow street and the sister's drew the tattered shawl they shared tighter    , they increased their pace; today had been pay-day at the factory and they needed to get home quickly before the infamous night dwellers, theives, murderers, whores and drunkards appeared.

On they scuttled quite unaware that one such night-dweller was watching them, stalking their progress.
Tonight there'd be murder done.

So how 'bout that? do you think it will do? Please comment, I adore your advice.

Miss Tiffany
( OH and I'll probably post most of the story over at where words are woven my other blog (yes I have two, one just for writing, feel free to read the other storys)  

Wednesday, 5 September 2012

Greetings, me wee guinea pigs!

I've got some reading for you: How 'bout dat? [ uh english please! how about that]

So strong it brings many to their knees, so gripping it leaves one empty.
Like water it fills a well but leaves it dry with thirst. It is demanding.
Like a story that can never be told, a story that that can never be expressed.A story that has incredible power that only the witnesses can dream of retelling. It is unexplainable. It carves out one's heart, it is like a strong wind, it is so big, it is so un-describe-able, how can it ever be put into words? It bursts through walls of iron as if they were made of feathers: It can not be stopped. Some maybe afraid of its rising tide, but I am not. It is so un-contain-able, yes so very terrible, words can not express the thunder of its coming, or the pin drop silence that place when the Master comes, when the hem of the His robe brushes a human's heart, the burning desire for Him that only He can awake. The beauty of its voice. The great honor of of its calling. The immense power, the huge-ness. The GRACE!!. The vastness. It crushes the universe with blinding light. It is so mysterious, it leaves the watcher in tears.To see this is an incredible honor, that can be seen... for free!
It is not to be taken lightly, it takes the broken, the unqualified, the outcast, the shamed and shunned. It takes their pain away, such a beautiful release, such undeserved grace.It can't be compared to anything   ....ever. Without a price!                  
  
It pulls, it tugs, it unravels an adventure, takes the elderly over mountains the children over seas.It falls like rain. Those in its rising flood, turn to those in the desert "Won't you come?! Taste of the rain! Feel the surge of the water! Wade into its unfathomed depths.
Drown in the swells! Here you fear nothing, you need not bring anything except yourselves. Be prepared to change in strange ways.
Oh, sink in the waters of love!"

For it is love that topples many, that sweeps through and leaves one longing for more.Love that tells a story that can never be retold, it craves out the heart with longing; it drives like the wind, it is so large, one can easily lose oneself. Love flies through
every defense. Some are afraid of its changing powers, but the ones who have tasted aren't, no one should, the love is un-hate-able.

Love can never be captured, yet it was nailed to a tree, it is so terrible, terribly magnificent. From the nails blood ran, like water; love can never be stopped. The sweetness of love's voice whispers "Father...forgive"

Without love the earth trembles and breaks mourning its loss to the skies that have lost all color, all light, all stars and moon.
Sweltering blackness has fallen. All suffocates in its thick tangible flow. All can that be seen is a trickle of blood , the trickle of life
the trickle of love ... dying.

Frigid tensions run through the skies agonizing groans ripple through the earth, the surface between is paralysed with fear.
For three risings of the sun the world os empty of life, is stripped of its essence. The earth cries out in grief. The people are the only ones unaware that the universe is in its death throws. They wake on their Sabbat to worship a dead love.

In another world love enters. A kingdom black, heavy, soaked in evil. A place where blood is the water. A place that has never known love. A place reeking with hate, murder. A place where the sun was too scared to rise... the land of fear.
Then like the ripping of curtains, like the crashing of thunder, like a fork of lighting. Love enters, the first rays of its liberating dawn span across a wasted landscape. A delightful aroma arises like steam. Darkness flees, things begin to grow, the sewers of blood vanish. Life has arrived. In the middle of this land is a towering mountain atop of this is an empty pool, Love lands on the  east side of this, the angel of light [ The devil was an angel + most people wouldn't listen to something devil-ish looking I picture him like so:] with dark blood dripping from his hands, the prince of darkness, crouches on the other side. Into the pool bright blood pours: flowing from the one named Love. The dark Prince trembles and hands Love an ancient looking pair of keys.
"Love" leaves the land. Darkness returns.

On earth it is the hours before light. The weary earth will yet again see a lifeless sun rise, the plants will another day suffocate
with its dying presence. Yet the people are unaware that this day the curtain will tear, that from this day the earth will never be the same again. And yet shepherds lie by their sheep and kings by their treasure -sleeping! 

The sky lightens to a deep purple. A breeze blows across the earth. The trees, plants waters and oceans stir beneath its power.
The wind carries a secret; a promise of change.

And then light, blinding light, rips across the land. You can almost hear the universe laughing with unimaginable joy. The ocean dance frenzied dances of happiness,the earth rumbles with delight and the sky shouts out its pleasure. The very air jumps with excitement.
Love has returned!
It's still hear, right now. Unknown to most is its power, its force and its name: Jesus.
Some are still in the desert of darkness, some are still slaves to another world to a dark force.
Few are in the rain of love, few feel its strong insistent pull.But it is there for anyone should they just see what 
"love" has done for them and repent of their sins, freedom is there, joy is there, peace is there for the broken who ask

So what think you?
Impatiently awaiting your comments
-Tiffany

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

story brewin' -'gain

I feel like writing something, my lovely guinea pigs.
Beware:

Should sailing through wind stop you?
The sentence scripted on the wall, held her spell bound, sailing through wind?
Would not slicing be a better word? She thought of the gail-force eastilys that rode in
across the waves, sail through that?  
What could it mean?
She touched the writing, and gazed down the "hall" this place was strange, [hold onto your imaginations people]
This whole wall was covered with history, in fact the entire building was drenched with it.
"I wonder what this place was built for?"She whispered to herself "That it be crumbling on the outside, but not a day old in, how curious!
She walked along this wall toward the front of the room, letting her fingers trail on the cold stone. She was unaware that the letters and words she touched, were turned into the shining blues of a peacocks tail, behind her.Or that the same colour was filling her footsteps.Onward she walked, up on to a dias the tattered blue carpet crunching under each.She reached the top step and turned around and looked down at the long hall, she saw the grey walls and wooden floor all the way down to the open door in the corner, it was a long way, but she could still make out the willows bending in the punishing wind.

All of a sudden she felt cold. A gust of wind must have come in, she thought, as she rubbed her bare arms. She turned around to see if there was any good carpet to cover her arms.She gasped, the wall that had once been stone had turned into a giant sapphire curtain, spanning floor and ceiling.The wind caught it, and as it rippled the letters of the word Istenba appeared in burning blue.The world she saw  jumped but her vision never refoucsed, she stepped back, she felt like she was wading through oil.
She lost her blance and kneeled over, slowly, because of the... air. The ground opened up beneath her,
a black abyss, she screamed and tried to stop herself, but she kept falling, the air was forced out of her lungs, everything turned black.

She woke up to the crashings of waves against a beach, she sat up slowly, her head spinning, it was dawn.



Aaaaaaannndddddd I have to eat tea

-Miss Tiffany       

Thursday, 16 August 2012

Idea, help too!

Name HELP!!!Please see end of post

Why?

I'm brewing up a story.I'm gonna try Romance, I probably won't get that far.
What is the idea that is the water to my story soup?
Mail order Bride.
Why? I like the idea, but I'd like to add some flavour, some stock, the guy who 'ordered her' has died and the farm has been sold.
It'll be set in the 1800s.South Dakota.
Herbs she's an optimist he's a pessimist.He tolerates people, she couldn't be without them.
Spice: she's terrified of angry people, scared of the dark and scary dreams  [similar to someone I know]
He has an explosive temper, hates himself, he's a choleric type.
She's 4#, 7# 3#.
He's 8# 6# 5#.
The last thing he wants right now is a wife, and when he wants one, she'll be quite, demure, shy a 2#, but God had other ideas.So when a small bubbly red head [well it's auburn, funny how most of my females end up with red hair] with big violet-grey eyes, turns up on his door step saying she's his bride, things go funny.
If I used one word to describe her, it'd be alive
him, grumpy
So I have to now go and figure out the rest.

Your part:
 I have though of names but I would like your opinion
what names do you think would suit?
Can't wait for comments!!

Miss Tiffany