Day Eight: Death to Adverbs
Today’s Prompt: Go to a local café, park, or public place and write a piece inspired by something you see. Get detailed: leave no nuance behind.
Today’s twist: write an adverb-free post.If you’d rather not write a new post, revisit and edit a previous one: excise your adverbs and replace them with strong, precise verbs.
Admittedly, this one was taken from my own front yard, but a quiet street, birds and squirrels and a pair of kittens who can only go so far provides inspiration for many short tales.
The raven sank onto the thick tree branch with a sigh of pure ecstasy. His trip had been long but the somnambulant suburban street was the ideal spot to pause before completing his trip. He shook out his wings and arched his sleek black head, allowing the tension to slip from his bones like water dripping from thawing eaves.
A slight movement caught his eye and he turned to spy the hungry faces of two kittens peering at him from a window inside the house. Along with the knowledge that he was safe from claws and teeth came a sudden burst of energy. He winked one beady black eye, then proceeded to strut along the tree branch, tossing the kittens a mocking glance every so often.
He reached the end of the branch and heard the unmistakeable chattering cry of a cat who’s spied huntable prey. But the raven knew his feathers were safe from today’s audience whose travels were limited by the screen fitted into the window frame.
He acknowledged his audience with a wing flap and a bow before traversing the branch in the opposite direction. It pleased him when his exaggerated stroll made both kittens chatter and coo. He made one more slow, mocking trip along the branch before pulling his wing over his head. He used the cover of the leafy branches and the solid old trunk to protect him from the sun and the heavy breeze while taking the nap he’d delayed in favor of the amusement he derived by taunting his natural enemies.