Creative Flashcards
Introduction
Cold, crisp water sat frozen in the lake, undisturbed by anyone or anything. There wasn’t a building for miles in any direction, it seemed impossible no one had found it and tainted it with humanity. A thin sliver of the sun was visible just over the horizon, creating a warm orange sheen over the glassy water; the world was still asleep. Everyone, except for a girl, sitting on the shore, the white sand beneath her littered with small leaves, rocks, and shells. The scenery seemed to sit still, frozen in time - nothing moved. No bird had awoken, no leaf stirred. There wasn’t a ripple across the surface of the water. The world was holding its breath. The girl, existing as part of the scenery, was simply observing - a pastime she’d picked up in the recent weeks of her life. There was a beauty in the moment - fleeting, yet firm.
Body 2
The cold sand slipped through her trembling fingers, soft against the rough calluses that had formed over time. In the beginning, the delicate violin strings had been a constant irritation, feeling as though they were cutting into her fingertips. But now, eleven years later, she hardly noticed them. After countless hours of practice, lessons, and recitals, the tips of her left hand told the story of her dedication. She loved every bit of it. The bright, clear melodies that filled her performances, the beautiful harmonies she played in orchestras, always accompanied by the familiar piny scent of rosin on her bow—and the slight creak of her favorite old music stand—those were the moments she lived for.
Body 1
The girl wore old, faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Her dark hair was tangled and misplaced by the wind, and the cold air produced goosebumps on her skin. She didn’t care, though. She didn’t seem to notice the inconvenience. She wanted to simply appreciate the moment while she could, before she started with her regular, day to day life. It was something of a refuge for her; where others found a monotonous, repetitive struggle, she found comfort - in the sameness of it all.
Body 3
As the sun continued inching its way up the sky, a ray of light blinded her vision, and she was swept back to jarring snapshots of the crash. The gaping pothole which seemed to materialise in front of the car, and the eerie silence before the impact. She’d woken to nerve damage in her arms, which made it impossible to make the precise, coordinated movements required to play. For weeks, she’d been unable to accept it, but when she’d tried to play, the music was shrill and out of tune, as if fighting against her. She was afraid. Afraid that all her effort was for nothing, that she’d lost the consistent comfort music brought her.
Body 4
Sitting on the shore, the same piny smell of the violin accompanied her, triggering a sequence of memories. The nervous excitement present in anticipation of her solo recital - friends and family in the audience on the other side of the curtain. Countless hours in her bedroom perfecting the musical phrases she just couldn’t seem to get right. The silent breath of suspense between the final note and the applause, the sound still ringing throughout the hall. She realised, it hadn’t been for nothing. These memories were what mattered - they were a part of her.
