Pick up the nearest book and flip to page 29. What’s the first word that jumps off the page? Use this word as your springboard for inspiration. If you need a boost, Google the word and see what images appear, and then go from there.
Today’s twist: write the post in the form of a letter.
(Yeah, I’m a few days late.)
I knew what you were the second I saw you hunting for rabbit. Up on my perch I could see the sparkle of your skin glinting through the gaps of the trees, like a million little diamonds. You say you are a vampire, but no; you are another porcelain god of capitalistic proportions.
I noticed that after you eat, your skin gets extra sparkly. Why is that? Is it because the blood enhances the diamond-effect? If I were to cut you, would you bleed diamonds from your severed carotid? I want you to bleed that shit all over me like Flashdance. Soak me like Carrie.
You are the God of Jared, the God of Department Store Diamonds here to shower me with all the Gucci bling a girl could want. You can’t lie to me; I know your skin is at least 10 carats for every square-inch flesh, and I want you to make it rain on me. Rain some mother fuckin’ diamonds on me as I open my mouth and suck on that shit like candy. I want to peel your flesh back and wrap myself in a vampire mink coat, dazzling everyone when I walk into the club. Other girls be like, “Dannnnnng, girl, wherdyagitthat?” My vampire boyfriend. “Is it hard to peel his skin off?” Nah, it comes off like butter.
What am I doing in this tree? Watching you, of course. I see you watching me when I sleep–watching you, watching me. But that’s not really me in bed.
Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, bitch, and you’re my new best friend.
All my love,