Random Writing Prompts

'Mortality Is A Lie'

This course of life and death started to get boring. Boring enough that Emrys Allendale started losing interest in this thing called 'immortality'. God, she hated that word. Regret filled her body, mindset, her whole entire existence. Even more than hatred did. Hatred of her parents for creating such a being.

Writing books for thousands of years--not aging one minuscule bit--surely got irritating. Especially having to change her pen name every eight decades, faking her own death. Emrys surely had to run out of names, even though she had plenty of time to muster up a few new ones.

Definitely too much time.

"Miss Allendale!" surely, it snapped Emrys out of her thoughts. She had almost forgotten she was at a book convention, meeting fans, signing published works. Fans were currently rambling on about the new Allendale series, 'Not Enough Time'. Ironic, isn't it?

"Oh my god, it's her!"

Emrys scribbled her signature on the cover of her recent book, some people handing her multiple books from years ago. She really did enjoy signing books, even though her hand cramped up after the first twenty minutes.

The writer longed for pouring all of her emotions into stories that she could show to the public, making it seem angsty on the characters behalf. The press only invisioned her as some forty-year-old woman who had nothing to do in life other than please other creative minds. Emrys didn't bother thinking about it though, she had plenty of books to sign.

She was on a podium, posters behind her with her book covers printed on them. Sitting at an elongated desk, supporters lined up formally holding whatever item they wanted signed by the famous writer.

Each front cover of her books would be printed with her neat signature, the fan admiring it before closing the book. This was normally around the time Emrys would receive a large grin, topped with a very loud and fast 'thank you!'.

The emptiness of immortality was shaded over by interactions like this. Anyone Emrys would ever grow a liking to would pass away. She didn't want to grow attached to admirers either, so she doesn't speak much at events.

As normal, Emrys finished signing a persons book, silently waving with a lingering smile before looking at the next person, gesturing them to come towards the desk she sat at. "Hello Miss Emrys! I'm a huge fan of your work. I aspire to be a writer just like you one day!"

Emrys looked up with a big, gentle smile. The supporter probably expected a more dialogued conversation, but the writer just gave a nod and started signing the stack of books, all that she had wrote.

'Floating in the Air by Jetlyn Darcey' made in 3014, more than one thousand years ago by an old pen name Emrys once used. Current time being 4189, the book was withered and falling apart.

Gasping, Emrys snapped her head up towards the fan, "Oh, my! How did you know I read this? It was so long ago, how did you get your hands on this?" Emrys airily wondered while she gazed at the book--then the supporter.

"I'm so sorry! I must have been carrying it around, you don't need to sign it."

Emrys chuckled ever so slightly, signing the books she was handed, well, all except the book that had her heart stuck in her throat. She never had thought about how the public would react to such information. She never wanted to.

The fan hurried off the podium with her books, waving a quick goodbye to her favorite writer. Never, in her thousands of years of living, Emrys had been so terrified.