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Prompt by AlexAleinikau4

thin tall prompts

hundreds of results

6 months ago

POV first-person,i am standing by the window, smoking a cigarette, captured from a first-person perspective. only my hand is visible in the frame. i hold the cigarette between my index and middle fingers with a relaxed grip, the lit end glowing faintly in the dim evening light. the cigarette is a standard white filter cigarette, with a thin brown band near the tip. ash has started to form at the end, slightly uneven, with a soft orange ember glowing as i take a slow drag. faint wisps of smoke rise, curling gently into the air before disappearing. my thumb rests near the filter, occasionally flicking the ash away. the view outside the window shows tehran at dusk, with the city lights flickering against the cool evening sky. in the distance, the milad tower stands tall, its distinctive tapered cylindrical body narrowing toward the top before expanding into its iconic multi-tiered head, which houses an observation deck and a glowing ring of lights. the tower's sleek, modern design contrasts with the mix of high-rise buildings and older, traditional structures surrounding it. the city’s streets below are lined with cars, their headlights forming thin, glowing streaks as they navigate through the urban landscape. inside, the atmosphere is moody and contemplative, with the faint glow of streetlights and the subtle reflection of city lights on the window glass. the warm ember of my cigarette pulses slightly as i inhale, adding to the quiet solitude of the moment.

5 months ago

The Bell family's farmhouse exudes a rustic charm, with its simple yet functional furnishings typical of early 19th-century Tennessee. The wooden floorboards creak softly underfoot, their surface worn smooth by years of use. A large hearth dominates one wall, its embers casting a faint orange glow that dances across the room. A sturdy oak table, scarred with knife marks and stains from countless meals, sits at the center, surrounded by mismatched chairs. A woven rug lies askew near the rocking chair, which now stands eerily still. Pewter dishes and earthenware line the shelves of a tall cupboard, their muted shine catching the flicker of candlelight. The faint scent of beeswax mingles with the earthy aroma of the surrounding farmland, creating an atmosphere both homely and unsettling. In the dim light, the Bell Witch emerges, her form both ethereal and unnervingly vivid. Her face is a haunting visage of pale, almost translucent skin stretched tightly over sharp cheekbones. Hollow eyes, glowing faintly with an unnatural light, seem to pierce through the very fabric of reality, locking onto her observer with an intensity that chills the soul. Her lips are thin and cracked, twisted into a faint, mocking smile that hints at her malevolent intent. Wisps of dark, unkempt hair frame her face, moving as if stirred by an invisible breeze. Her tattered garments, a patchwork of shadow and spectral light, shimmer faintly, as though caught between the physical and the otherworldly. As she steps closer, the air grows colder, and the oppressive silence is broken only by the faint sound of her whispered laughter—a sound that seems to echo from every corner of the room. Her presence transforms the farmhouse, turning its rustic charm into a stage for fear and despair, as the Bell Witch stands as a chilling embodiment of the unknown."