This contest is pretty basic, you get 30 minutes from when you say you are going to enter to describe in as much detail a picture I will send you. This is a test of your skills and ability to write under pressure.
Who ever does the best job with in the time limit will win the gold.
The contest will end either tonight at 8 pm or when we get at least 6 people to enter.
Invite your friends, its a simple contest that will only take 30 minutes out of your day.
(The definition of "best job" is if you can describe it to where I or another person can easily visualize exactly what subject your given, with out having to see the picture.)
I'm deciding who the top winner is at the moment, Its going to be between malodorous phosphorus, youphoria, and Zackarye. Its hard to take in consideration of the fact that they all had different picture references to build off of. I will be deciding the victor tonight.
Applicants: 1.Zackarye(Made the time limit)
In short: She is a woman. But women are never so simple as to be summed up in one sentence; no, describing this girl completely—only in this moment, only in this one pose—would take an eternity. Here is simply the beginning: She is covered in all the places that technically matter (to society, anyway), but the eighteen inches of naked, supple flesh extending from her ribcage to the waistband of her jeans reveals almost as much as if she were completely nude. She bares the most vulnerable part of herself to anyone’s eyes. She wears a dark bra and denim jeans—denim is rugged, it is masculine. By wearing it, she has conquered man. Her long hair, the color of fallen acorns scattered on the ground, says, “It took four hours of straightening, spraying, and perfecting to make me look this tousled.” And tousled it does look—falling in graceful waves and curls. Her expression is meant to be promiscuous, inviting. Lowered lashes and the impression of a smile grace her features. But don’t be fooled; this girl is untouchable. She is far above us and we… We are left longing after only a captured moment of her presence.
In the distance, the dark green hills were quiet. The wind, barely audible, caressed each leaf and branch of evergreen shrubs and trees. The clouds that covered the fertile land began to sweep away, letting warmth trickle into the soil with ardor. Though completely invisible to human eyes, the greenery slowly stretched upward to the hot glow of the midday sun.
The breeze, now heating up as it flowed down small valleys and hollers, reached an even flatland. Its humid tendrils spreading like a wildfire through each blade of viridian grass. The currents continued spreading, outward without sign of slowing. As it glided down the meadow, it gathered pollen and small seed. The nurturing wind carried the pods, pushing them toward new fields where they could grow and expand.
The current eventually pushed past the rolling flatlands to a small embankment. The flow gently rippled the water, and softly kissed the lips of any fish coming up for a breath. Lily pads, gradient with an array of colors, slowly parted and made room for the windy gale.
Just like the fertile seeds and pods from the meadow, the wind gathered another companion. A single water lily spun eagerly into the surge. As it spun, its own pollen lifted away from the cream colored petals, and the wind held it tightly as it crossed the next embankment.
The lily slowed its revolution, and the waters started to flow back into place. The chromatic lily pads emerged together as the water came to a silent standstill once more.
The wind moved on, but carried with it something dear. It carried the essence of life from this place, and spread this landscapes beauty to new places.
Lazy summer, with her hot sun and the cloudless blue skies saw countless people flocking to the beaches during her time. Some of those were gloriously attractive, all unmarked skin and stretches of taut flesh barely covered with skimpy clothes. Some weren’t.
Like this particular gentleman – do you see him, with your little eye? – sitting by his lonesome under the sun, baking his pasty white flesh to a heated redness. The patterned bandanna that he has wrapped around his egghead does nothing to shield his weak skin from the ever-burning rays, it sits there – limply atop his round head.
Dark shades – all black glass and steel frame and reeking coolness on the right person – perch incongruously his blunt nose, hiding piggish eyes from the world at large. They are focussed now (not on the beautiful young women or men that traipse among the plastic beach chairs with their bottles of cheap beer and inflatable balls, nay!) on the glorious load of fat and chemicals that he is picking up from the flimsy paper plate, an oozing cheeseburger whose treated meat glistens temptingly in the glare of the sun.
He holds it close to his nose, pudgy fingers splayed out across the comforting smoothness of the bread. He sniffs it once, twice, and then carefully! He brings the burger close to his mouth and bites down on it.
The explosion of sauces and juices saturate his mouth with the dizzy headiness of joy and sodium, and he closes his eyes in a strange kind of relief – it has been three hours since breakfast and his ample belly cries as if his throat has been slit.
One, two, three.
He finishes the burger in three bites, and he wipes the sauces away from his bristling white-grey moustache and chapped lips with a careless finger. A pause, and he brings it up to his mouth, where he sucks the juices free. Waste not, want not.
Rolls of pale white flesh jiggle as he climbs to his feet, patting the sand away from the bottom of his white beach pants.
His belly rumbles.
The beast will never be satiated, he reflects almost ruefully.