Describe an Imaginary Place

[Kylara]

I only ever manage brevity in essays where it is unwanted...when writing I ramble on...


The lake shuddered, touched by invisible hands, small wakes growing, growing, waves rushing towards the shore. A roe deer stood, staring idly at the oncoming wall of water, blue as the sky above, rippling with diamond flashes of light. It stared calmly at the wave, facing it, standing proud; the invisible fingers holding it tight, keeping it in place, keeping it amid the waving grass, and shadowing trees; dropping leaves with the turning of seasons. The deer stood, undaunted by the strong grip; it would have stood alone. the giant wave smashed down upon the small roe deer and the invisible hand quickly shushed it back into the lake, drawing the water away from the broken body of the deer, soaked hair leaving a musty smell on the air, small tufts sticking at odd angles, eyes glazed like liquid coal, staring at nothing. Invisible hands gently lifting the mangled remains of the solitary deer, placing it next to the rabbit, and the squirrel, the dog, the sheep; definitely the greatest trophy, taken by the brightest water in the lake.

 

[kshRox]

Stepping out upon the stark precipice I am greeted by a warm wind wafting in from ports unknown, an intimate stranger enfolding me within their comforting embrace. Salt flavors the exotic scents of the living mass of green behind me and the only sounds come from the waves far below brushing against the rocky face of the cliff as they play and dance amongst themselves. Peace, blessed sweet peace infuses my soul washing away all sense of self until there is no I, only the sky blending into the sea set against the rugged jungle coastline.

A friend told me we rely too much on sight to describe things.
Here I"m trying to use other senses to describe a place and give the reader a multi-dimensional sense of where my character is both literally and metaphorically.

 

[kshRox]

Bare rock rose in impossible heights, fell into dizzy depths. Open vents exposed molten cauldrons of flame, which disgorged acrid smoke and steam blurring his vision, burning his skin. He stood on cinders and ash.

A teacher once wrote on my work, 'Brevity may be the soul of wit, but this is ridiculous.'

I like this very much also.
Your wording is brief, stark and jagged, reinforcing and mirroring these same elements within the environment you describe. This line stirs feelings rather than thoughts within me and as such I feel it is truly artful.