Day 5. out of inspiration

That's it, I feel like I don't have anything else to write and going to leave it like that. I didn't heard anything about my writing so how could I know am I writing or just doing sh.. .Yeah, I'm awesome at blaming others, but I wanted to hear some comments. So now I re-written two short stories I made in the beginning of the year. and here they are.

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Random

Diary of dreams

The girl has a diary. She noted down her dreams. In one she was a small girl child and chased butterflies with gauze. The next she was already a woman. He had a beautiful house and a happy family.

The girl walked slowly. She wore suede shoes and they would leave only footprints. They were silent. Girl’s steps were small and soft.

One morning, through the window into the girl’s room flew spring. Patted her cheek gently with wings and did a few laps over the head then swept out into the field.

She woke up and smiled. Attracted with the nose smell of the spring.

She found diary on the street. It was a medium-thick book with lined sheets. It lacked three leaves, they were expanded. Tear place reminded beast teeth marks. The girl liked the notebook cover, she decided to pick it up.

Girl dream a lot: colorful and gray, scary and funny, sweet or fragrant dreams. Came up to write them down. She called notebook the Dream Diary.

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If a gray snowflake would fell, how would you look at it?

White snowflakes all the same: a white square cold cereals, not sticking together, although falling together. Small white sky-fairies play and circling.

If the moon was blue, would it be seen in the sky?

When sun disappears at the horizon, golden sky teeth shines in the sky. Stars, which are green, blue, red, are always only a yellow to us.

If the sea water dyed bloody red ..?

Sea means-life. So many restless waves, threatening approaching the shore. They are only joking. Wave crashes ashore and always pulling back, and never comes out of its boundaries. The blood is a sign of life. Thousands and thousands of liters of blood circulating in us, and every heartbeat means''I am alive’’.