October Drawing Prompts 2024 Novels & Stories

SSHS 90 It is already the 3rd week of the month of October, and people are already getting excited for the Halloween Event that will take place at the end of the month. In fact, all of the students who were energetic enough to volunteer helped the participating clubs in hanging the banners and placing some scary statues, skeletons, fake spider webs, and all of the things that are themed with Halloween. They even had a mini Pumpkin Carving contest and all of the carved pumpkins will be used as a part of all the displays all over the school grounds, and the winner’s pumpkin will be placed in the centre of the school— where the plaza is located and it is placed in a pedestal where it has a ligh

Lisa was sitting lifelessly on her seat, looking out of the window. It was the month of october, the true starts of the month of fall. The leaves dance from branch to ground, each a colorful flag without any strings or pole, free to roam. People feel the breeze, rich with the aroma of the earth, the keeper of the seeds, for the springtime to come. There is calmness, as if all the gold, berry-reds and brown that flutter about is a cozy quilt, bringing everyone the same piece as the night time.

She watched it fall all the way. Then she looked up at the ribbons. They were different in October. Not the ribbons themselves — those were the same ribbons they’d always been, twenty-one years of them, faded and still-bright in their various conditions. But the light that fell on them was October light, which had a quality that summer light and spring light and the flat grey light of winter all lacked. A quality of — she reached for the word and found it — clarity. October light was clarifying light. It showed you things as they were without the softening of summer or the hopefulness of spring. It showed you the exact color of things, the exact shape, the exact condition.

He said it on an afternoon in October — a Thursday, not a bread Wednesday, the other kind of Thursday, the Thursday with the quality of October: the light at the specific October angle, the estate in its drawing-in season, the kitchen garden in the post-harvest state. The October light was different from the light of other months. It came at an angle, low and golden, the sun no longer overhead but moving toward the horizon even in the middle of the day. The shadows were longer. The colors were richer — the oranges and browns and deep greens of the estate preparing for winter. The kitchen garden was in its post-harvest state: the vegetables had been gathered, the beds had been cleared, the co

" October said to herself. Pushing the piece of paper into her back pocket, then went out of her room and down the stairs, where she found a door that led outside. October looked behind her before stepping out. She walked around for a while, enjoying the afternoon sun. She soon came to a stop at where four small ponds overflowed into a larger one, watching the colourful fishes swam around. (Fishes- referring to multiple species of fish.) She pushed down all that Alistair said about where to stay away from, thinking that he could know where she had been. October noticed that the fishes didn't look like any fish she had ever seen before; they looked kind of out of worldly.

Once Charlotte was alone, she was able to take in just how quiet and old the little town was. The station itself was set at the edge of town and left a clear view from its front doors down the main street. The town itself was shrouded in a cool mist and the autumn breeze brought the swaying of long, yellow and orange branches. Willows spotted each side of the road just as much as they seemed to blanket the entire outside of the little placeheir long regal curtains now painted in sunset since the cool weather had settled in for the season.

Your mind will stray to her In the small hours October, October, come home Her voice is a sage’s whisper a quiet becoming in a lover’s breast. She is the color of rose-gold and the first blush of a virgin’s awakening. Her clavicle is tattooed with a key that opens doors to Father Time’s throne. She took me there and we wandered through golden halls studded with trees When October mourns, she goes there to a grove hidden behind the stars. It has the graves of her sister months