The 250 word writing assignment this week was about setting. I chose the task which involved inventing a character in a particular landscape and/or a kind of weather, and make the setting characterise that person.
I’m tired and it needs proof reading since I’ve literally just finished it and I have a worry it may be a little cheesy, buuut here you go:

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Block, by Emma Jayne Kitchener.

Enveloped in the unkempt, damp grass, I outstretched my hands towards the brooding sky. My nails bore a chipped nail polish in a colour resembling murky water. Behind my fingers, I saw rolling clouds- growling and threatening to rain upon me. My arms fell, as if lifeless, back toward earth with myself – one arm finding its place upon an open notepad. I rolled over, my wet back meeting the cold winds, and rested myself above the booklet. The blank pages glared up at me, daring me to write. Caught somewhere between the dreariness of the mist and the fragrance of the grass, I should have found inspiration to write for you. Instead, I let fine droplets of rain scatter themselves about my body, still staring at the vacant pages which, by that point, were becoming crimped and creased due to the rain. I felt knots budding in my stomach, as the scene around me darkened along with the clouds. With a shaking, icy hand, I finally wrote your name, and then watched as the thick ink merged with the water-sodden pages. Delicate veins of faded, watery ink bred from what I had finally managed to write.
You’re nothingness now. Whatever encompassed your dry humour and embarrassing taste in music had ceased to be. I, however, was intact – numb from the cold, perhaps, but here, breathing, nonetheless – and the duty of writing about a euphemistic version of you as a memorial was given to me.
Instead, I laid in the dank grass, accepting the bitter stabs of raindrops upon my back, staring at a page bearing only a name that, not so long ago, meant something pleasant to me.

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A/N: Basically it was originally meant to be a quickie about writer’s block, but I realised I’d made the weather a bit too harsh for it to be just that, so hey-ho, throw in a bit of death since I’m such a cheery bastard.
 So, it’s pretty much one about a character struggling with the death of someone close to them, to the extent where they’re actually quite bitter about having to remember them, and having to write their eulogy. 

I’m fucking tired now, so I’m off for a cig and sleep. Night guys, let me know what you think. :- )