Prompt 4: The wind whipped up and the hillside raised its hackles. Can you come up with a few descriptions that ascribe an animalistic quality to something that doesn’t breathe?
The sunlight stretched across the floor, yawning from the afternoon clouds.
The rain, full of energy and anger, pounded against the roof, relentlessly, a stampede moving across the plains.
The book flapped open, it’s pages fluttering up and down against the [currents in the] breeze.
The wind howled and cried, passion and purpose seared into the sound.
Late at night, a floorboard screeched, a sound to chill the spine, and instantly, her eyes snapped open.
The crumbs scurried across the table as the contents of the bowl were spilled.
The night sky oozed into the fading twilight, leaving a trail of stars in its path.
Leaving his hand, the stone leaped from ripple to ripple until it drowned in the depths of the lake.
After the race, the muscles constricted, choking the exhausted legs.
Her phone, having fallen from her hand, burrowed into the pile of leaves.
What about you guys? What descriptions can you come up with?
Ciao for now,