What to do there – Write about movement. Sit and watch the world go by. Notice the differences between land and water and sky. Tell the story of a character who transforms when they move from one element to the other and how this transformation impacts their life, their relationships, and daily routines.

 

Yesterday, I was fire. I was beautiful and strong. My flames reached out all across the land, giving warmth, awakening fear. I was a pure, bright orange, as bright as the sun, decorated with hints of piercing whites and electric blues. I flickered and swayed to my own rhythm, the wind couldn’t control me. I wanted more, wanted to see and feel even more. I reached up, lifted my body higher, welcomed the crisp new coldness that swirled inside of me as the heat seeped out of me. I could feel myself becoming lighter, my movements becoming more graceful. All throughout the night I drifted, slowly letting the smoke disappear into the wind.

Today I am the air, free and invisible. I see all, I feel all. My body expands and flows like soft, weightless water. I dance with the freeness of a person who can’t be seen. My movements are big, stretching my body to the ends of the world, but gentle, giving a soft breeze to let the leaves of the trees dance with me. I sway and leap and twirl, letting my body be carried across the skies by the wind. I entice the senses of the people, spreading sweet laughter and subtle notes of the fresh nature for them to enjoy with me. But I want more. I want to be able to see and feel in a whole new way.

Tonight, my body drops low into the river. I change from the lightness of air to the smooth liquid that is water. I flow, following the winding path of the river set out before me. My body is icy cold as I stare up at the clear sky that is so deep and vast like an ocean, an entity so similar yet so different from me. It is reflected onto me, draping me in the finest gown of rich blues and stars more dazzling than any jewel. I feel my body gently swaying with the wind, lulling me to sleep as the city does the same. I dream of a new kind of world, where there are things to see and feel like I’ve never experienced. I want it.

In the morning I sink down into the depths until I reach the rocky bottom. I melt down into the mud, my body becoming thick and heavy. I move sluggishly like I’m flowing in slow motion. I keep crawling until my body is able to dry into dirt and I can feel the tiny bodies of every worm and ant tunnelling through me. Down here it was dark, darker than a night with no moon or stars. There’s nothing to see, nothing to hear, and far too many things can be felt. This is not the kind of new experience I wanted. I’m afraid. I need light and warmth and the sky in my sights. I become frantic, I need to escape, up. I move higher and higher, quickening my pace, my body craves the warmth that the surface brings. And finally, when I break through, I hurriedly envelop my body in a layer of dense grass to chase away the shivers left over from the night. I desperately need more. I snake through the ground, moving faster and faster, searching for a new heat source to never let me feel the cold again. I miss my flames. I want them.

 

 

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