megan-cutler:This week’s challenge was to revisit a prompt we had already done and re-do it wi
megan-cutler:This week’s challenge was to revisit a prompt we had already done and re-do it with a different character. Surprisingly, neither side of this ended up involving Domerin :p…There was something visceral about writing with pen and paper. It might have been the elegant swoop of her hand as she formed each letter. It might have been the satisfying scratch of the pen as it deposited its ink. But it might have had a lot to do with the warm, comfortable armchair and its matching ottoman located not far from the faux fireplace in the living room.Zita settled lower into the overstuffed cushions letting her eyes drift closed.“What if I was the last of my race?”Her eyes shot open to the skeptical look of her sister, face framed with navy hair as she held a steaming tea mug, her lips pursed, her eyebrows arched.“Neffy!” she shrieked, slapping her hand across the journal page to hide her scribbles. “You aren’t supposed to read my journal over my shoulder while I’m writing it!” Though she should have come to expect as much by now, knowing her sister as well as she did.Nefazia cackled as she crossed the room and flopped onto the couch, though she was wise enough to lower her tea to the side table before doing so. “There wasn’t much to read, really. You only wrote the title. I’m trying to decide if I should be offended. If you’re the last of our kind, what does that make me? A historical footnote?” Keep Reading. One from the archives; What if you were, quite possibly, the last of your species? -- source link