Chivalry and Chaos
  • Writing Archive
  • About
  • Contact

Random Writing Bits, Thoughts, and Excerpts

Practice. Practice. Practice. 

Anxiety

3/21/2020

0 Comments

 
When I’m feeling anxious and can’t sleep, my mind wanders and I think of anything and everything. Memories from five minutes ago, memories from fifteen years ago. What the hell is going on in the world? Why can’t I stop thinking? Why does sleep seem to hate me? These are some of the questions that float around and taunt me. But other times I remember moments of peace, a word or phrase, a moment with a loved one. Today I thought about one of my aunts, remembering the features of her face that look so much like my fathers, her hair peppered with gray and white, her distinct voice telling me not to worry, “non ti preoccupare, amore.” I focus on moments like those when my anxiety is most overwhelming, and then I take a deep breath. When I exhale, I let the words wash over me, “don’t worry, my love.” 

(from the notes app on my phone 03.21.20)​
0 Comments

Using a writing prompt for practice

3/10/2020

0 Comments

 
Picture
Ended up writing about the demon deciding to raise the child instead of showing the actual raising.

Read More
0 Comments

03.01.20

3/6/2020

0 Comments

 
​Her hair was black as a starless night, eyes a blazing, molten gold. The laugh lines around her mouth indicated years gone by, years of laughter. They wondered what she’d found so amusing.
0 Comments

A short excerpt from the first draft of TKOTNM

3/3/2020

0 Comments

 
Ari knew she was dreaming. She could feel the sun warming her skin, the breeze carrying the scent of lavender. She was in a field, where a young girl, who looked as though she were about fourteen, danced. The girl could not see Ari, but Ari watched her curiously. This was a new dream, she knew for sure, as it was unlike any she’d had before. The girl danced, and Ari noted that she wasn’t particularly good, but she looked content. Then the girl began to sing, and her voice wasn’t particularly strong either, but she seemed happy. Ari could feel herself smiling. It was a pleasant dream, she thought. 
        After a while, other girls began to appear in the field. They all looked to be about the same age as the first girl, and they were all lovely. One began to sing, and her voice was wonderful. The first girl stopped singing, looking quite sad. Another began to dance, and her body moved fluidly through the field, her dance a story of the world. The first girl stopped dancing, her head bowing low. The other girls carried on, one painting a perfect replica of the landscape, one writing in a small journal, one lie in the tall grass and stared at the sky, two seemed to be putting on a sort of play, one strummed softly on a lyre, and the last recited a poem to no one in particular. The first girl fell to her knees and sobbed. The other nine girls paid her no mind and went about their business. 
        Ari frowned. Her heart broke for the girl. She attempted to walk toward her, but found that she could not move. Her body was paralyzed. She wanted to yell out, to tell the girl that it was alright, but when she tried to step forward again, she felt herself being pulled back.

0 Comments

    Stories, Poems, and Random Smatterings.

    Archives

    November 2022
    March 2020
    February 2020
    May 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    December 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016

    ​@CristinaRomagnolo.com 2016-2022.  All Rights Reserved.

    RSS Feed

@CristinaRomagnolo.com 2016-2023  All Rights Reserved.
  • Writing Archive
  • About
  • Contact