Community picked writing
- Not a member? Join here
- Login
- Help
- Follow WEbook:
Book Info
-
Project Leader:
Bnaslund
-
Participants:
The WEbook community -
Who Can Write:
All Participants (Closed) -
Category:
Fiction -
Genre:
Experimental -
Language:
English
book_central
One Syllable Writing Challenge
One of Ernest Hemingway's rules of writing was "use short sentences." Well, we're going to take that golden nugget of writing advice a little further by using short words, too.
For this challenge, the only words available to your fingertips are those mono-syllable simpletons that make the English language great. Write a short scene (max 500 words) involving a minimum of two characters and at least one line of dialogue. Everything else is up to you, but remember, creativity is the most importa ... more »
For this challenge, the only words available to your fingertips are those mono-syllable simpletons that make the English language great. Write a short scene (max 500 words) involving a minimum of two characters and at least one line of dialogue. Everything else is up to you, but remember, creativity is the most importa ... more »
GIVE FEEDBACK
1/14/2012 6:47 PM PST
http://atlanta.classexplore.com http://boston.classexplore.com http://chicago.classexplore.com http://dallas.classexplore.com http://houston.classexplore.com http://lasvegas.classexplore.com http://losangeles.classexplore.com http://miami.classexplore.com http://newyork.classexplore.com http://philadelphia.classexplore.com http://phoenix.classexplore.com http://sanantonio.classexplore.com http://sandiego.classexplore.com http://sanfrancisco.classexplore.com http://seattle.classexplore.com http://calgary.classexplore.com http://edmonton.classexplore.com http://montreal.classexplore.com http://ottawa.classexplore.com http://toronto.classexplore.com http://vancouver.classexplore.com http://winnipeg.classexplore.com
1/14/2012 8:54 AM PST
http://atlanta.studioexplorer.com http://boston.studioexplorer.com http://chicago.studioexplorer.com http://dallas.studioexplorer.com http://houston.studioexplorer.com http://lasvegas.studioexplorer.com http://losangeles.studioexplorer.com http://miami.studioexplorer.com http://newyork.studioexplorer.com http://philadelphia.studioexplorer.com http://sanantonio.studioexplorer.com http://sandiego.studioexplorer.com http://seattle.studioexplorer.com http://calgary.studioexplorer.com http://ottawa.studioexplorer.com http://toronto.studioexplorer.com http://vancouver.studioexplorer.com
1/14/2012 8:44 AM PST
4/27/2010 1:20 PM PDT
“You have not been fair to me.” She looked up at me, brown eyes lined with tears.
What could I do? What was there to say at a time like this? So I did what I thought best and left.
Two days down the line, she was still on my mind. It was not like me to think that much, but she was right: I had not been fair to her.
Liz, my love, knew the right thing to say, “We will have to kill her, I guess.”
Kill her?
“When you mess up, you use some white out. It’s the same thing. Don’t deal with her shit, just white her out.” A pause. “Folks do it all the time.”
Some do. That was never me, though. I had never done this. Still…
It did not take her long to show me the way. She made up a plan. “Jerk-proof,” she said, so I would not fuck it up.
I phoned Jen to ask her to sneak out to meet me. Two A.M., no moon, and no one knew she would be with me. She said yes, of course, mad for me.
Liz hid in back, low to the car floor so she would not be seen. Jen skips out and looks sweet. I came close to shame, came close to a whisper of, ‘go back,’ but not quite, so she got in.
Jen and I made small talk while Liz laid low in the back. I think she thought I’d get to the point—some plea of love and loss, but that was not the case. I don’t know how Liz knew when to strike, but she did. Next thing I know, Jen hits me in the side of the face in the fight, and I swerve and hit the brakes. Liz has a bag over her head and she is close to dead from two types of chokes. Liz says some stuff I don’t hear, and then Jen’s gone, just like that.
“Drive to the creek,” Liz tells me. No BS.
We just leave Jen there, or what used to be Jen, head on the glass, while Liz looks for clues we may have left. I clean my car every week, so I know it will be fine.
I grab her by her shirt to throw her in the creek. It rips a bit in my hands. Her head hits the rocks hard and I feel bad, but Liz and I drive home and have sex anyway.
The cops come to the school some time after that. They talk to most of the kids in her class--me and Liz, too. The cops talk to us and think, ‘Not a chance. Not these two.’ They even write it in their file. Case closed.
What could I do? What was there to say at a time like this? So I did what I thought best and left.
Two days down the line, she was still on my mind. It was not like me to think that much, but she was right: I had not been fair to her.
Liz, my love, knew the right thing to say, “We will have to kill her, I guess.”
Kill her?
“When you mess up, you use some white out. It’s the same thing. Don’t deal with her shit, just white her out.” A pause. “Folks do it all the time.”
Some do. That was never me, though. I had never done this. Still…
It did not take her long to show me the way. She made up a plan. “Jerk-proof,” she said, so I would not fuck it up.
I phoned Jen to ask her to sneak out to meet me. Two A.M., no moon, and no one knew she would be with me. She said yes, of course, mad for me.
Liz hid in back, low to the car floor so she would not be seen. Jen skips out and looks sweet. I came close to shame, came close to a whisper of, ‘go back,’ but not quite, so she got in.
Jen and I made small talk while Liz laid low in the back. I think she thought I’d get to the point—some plea of love and loss, but that was not the case. I don’t know how Liz knew when to strike, but she did. Next thing I know, Jen hits me in the side of the face in the fight, and I swerve and hit the brakes. Liz has a bag over her head and she is close to dead from two types of chokes. Liz says some stuff I don’t hear, and then Jen’s gone, just like that.
“Drive to the creek,” Liz tells me. No BS.
We just leave Jen there, or what used to be Jen, head on the glass, while Liz looks for clues we may have left. I clean my car every week, so I know it will be fine.
I grab her by her shirt to throw her in the creek. It rips a bit in my hands. Her head hits the rocks hard and I feel bad, but Liz and I drive home and have sex anyway.
The cops come to the school some time after that. They talk to most of the kids in her class--me and Liz, too. The cops talk to us and think, ‘Not a chance. Not these two.’ They even write it in their file. Case closed.
3/13/2010 7:26 PM PST
Webook is so lame.
2/28/2010 8:25 AM PST
wasnt the deadline for this the 26th? when are the results gonna come up? i'm so curious to find out who really succeeded at this... it was very challenging O.o
2/25/2010 10:12 AM PST
"God? Not I. Though I do not miss the mark by much. Or miss it at all. I did not like it when I was God. The role was too much...what is the word I want?" I search my mind but the right phrase hides from me. Words do that a lot these days. Since I came back from the edge, the clouds, the stars. Back to...here. Where it is dark, and low.
"What is the worst?" she asks. Pen in hand, black ink on lines of blue and white.
"The worst, you mean to not be God? No. I think the worst is to know that once I was. That is the bind. To not know the why or the how of I came to be here, that is the way to keep me in the cage. If I knew, if I could find the key, I could slip it in the lock, turn the latch and get out."
“The key is in your mind.”
We have been through this, she and I. She means well, but does not know the truth. She has not been God for too long. Her mind does not have the slant it had when it was her turn to be God and now she thinks it is a small thing to get past. I know this. She knows this.
“The key is in your mind.” That is her cant, her song of peace. “It is all in your mind, Joe.”
Of course it is. I have sought the key since my first thought that all this was not real, not the truth, not the real truth. I have seen the trace bits of the truth and seen the tracks of its feet as it ran down the path with me in tow hands held out, palms to the sky in a plea for it to stop, or at least to slow down and wait for me to catch up, catch my breath, still my heart; to laugh and to cry and to rest.
“You know, I made it rain last night. Just a few drops, but rain, real wet rain.”
“How did it make you feel?”
“I…it was sad. There was no joy in it. I had thought that if I could make it rain, that…”
“That what?”
“That it would end. That I would wake up and that this would all have been a dream of truth and not the truth for real. I want to go home.”
There was an ache in my chest where they said a heart should have been. What they said were eyes should have been wet with tears. My wings were stubs, sore and weak. He said free will, then when I said, ‘No’ He sent me here. Why? Was it a test, a joke, a game whose rules I was not told? What did I do that was so wrong?
“The key is in your mind, Joe. Home is in your mind.”
"What is the worst?" she asks. Pen in hand, black ink on lines of blue and white.
"The worst, you mean to not be God? No. I think the worst is to know that once I was. That is the bind. To not know the why or the how of I came to be here, that is the way to keep me in the cage. If I knew, if I could find the key, I could slip it in the lock, turn the latch and get out."
“The key is in your mind.”
We have been through this, she and I. She means well, but does not know the truth. She has not been God for too long. Her mind does not have the slant it had when it was her turn to be God and now she thinks it is a small thing to get past. I know this. She knows this.
“The key is in your mind.” That is her cant, her song of peace. “It is all in your mind, Joe.”
Of course it is. I have sought the key since my first thought that all this was not real, not the truth, not the real truth. I have seen the trace bits of the truth and seen the tracks of its feet as it ran down the path with me in tow hands held out, palms to the sky in a plea for it to stop, or at least to slow down and wait for me to catch up, catch my breath, still my heart; to laugh and to cry and to rest.
“You know, I made it rain last night. Just a few drops, but rain, real wet rain.”
“How did it make you feel?”
“I…it was sad. There was no joy in it. I had thought that if I could make it rain, that…”
“That what?”
“That it would end. That I would wake up and that this would all have been a dream of truth and not the truth for real. I want to go home.”
There was an ache in my chest where they said a heart should have been. What they said were eyes should have been wet with tears. My wings were stubs, sore and weak. He said free will, then when I said, ‘No’ He sent me here. Why? Was it a test, a joke, a game whose rules I was not told? What did I do that was so wrong?
“The key is in your mind, Joe. Home is in your mind.”
2/25/2010 10:05 AM PST
"God? Not I. Though I do not miss the mark by much. Or miss it at all. I did not like it when I was God. The role was too much...what is the word I want?" I search my mind but the right phrase hides from me. Words do that a lot these days. Since I came back from the edge, the clouds, the stars. Back to...here. Where it is dark, and low.
"What is the worst?" she asks. Pen in hand, black ink on lines of blue and white.
"The worst, you mean to not be God? No. I think the worst is to know that once I was. That is the bind. To not know the why or the how of I came to be here, that is the way to keep me in the cage. If I knew, if I could find the key, I could slip it in the lock, turn the latch and get out."
“The key is in your mind.”
We have been through this, she and I. She means well, but does not know the truth. She has not been God for too long. Her mind does not have the slant it had when it was her turn to be God and now she thinks it is a small thing to get past. I know this. She knows this.
“The key is in your mind.” That is her cant, her song of safe refrain. “It is all in your mind, Joe.”
Of course it is. I have sought the key since my first thought that all this was not real, not the truth, not the real truth. I have seen the trace bits of the truth and seen the tracks of its feet as it ran down the path with me in tow hands held out, palms to the sky in a plea for it to stop, or at least to slow down and wait for me to catch up, catch my breath, still my heart; to laugh and to cry and to rest.
“You know, I made it rain last night. Just a few drops, but rain, real wet rain.”
“How did it make you feel?”
“I…it was sad. There was no joy in it. I had thought that if I could make it rain, that…”
“That what?”
“That it would end. That I would wake up and that this would all have been a dream of truth and not the truth for real. I want to go home.”
There was an ache in my chest where they said a heart should have been. What they said were eyes should have been wet with tears. My wings were stubs, sore and weak. He said free will, then when I said, ‘No’ He sent me here. Why? Was it a test, a joke, a game whose rules I was not told? What did I do that was so wrong?
“The key is in your mind, Joe. Home is in your mind.”
"What is the worst?" she asks. Pen in hand, black ink on lines of blue and white.
"The worst, you mean to not be God? No. I think the worst is to know that once I was. That is the bind. To not know the why or the how of I came to be here, that is the way to keep me in the cage. If I knew, if I could find the key, I could slip it in the lock, turn the latch and get out."
“The key is in your mind.”
We have been through this, she and I. She means well, but does not know the truth. She has not been God for too long. Her mind does not have the slant it had when it was her turn to be God and now she thinks it is a small thing to get past. I know this. She knows this.
“The key is in your mind.” That is her cant, her song of safe refrain. “It is all in your mind, Joe.”
Of course it is. I have sought the key since my first thought that all this was not real, not the truth, not the real truth. I have seen the trace bits of the truth and seen the tracks of its feet as it ran down the path with me in tow hands held out, palms to the sky in a plea for it to stop, or at least to slow down and wait for me to catch up, catch my breath, still my heart; to laugh and to cry and to rest.
“You know, I made it rain last night. Just a few drops, but rain, real wet rain.”
“How did it make you feel?”
“I…it was sad. There was no joy in it. I had thought that if I could make it rain, that…”
“That what?”
“That it would end. That I would wake up and that this would all have been a dream of truth and not the truth for real. I want to go home.”
There was an ache in my chest where they said a heart should have been. What they said were eyes should have been wet with tears. My wings were stubs, sore and weak. He said free will, then when I said, ‘No’ He sent me here. Why? Was it a test, a joke, a game whose rules I was not told? What did I do that was so wrong?
“The key is in your mind, Joe. Home is in your mind.”
2/24/2010 1:22 PM PST
Wow! Great idea! It must be harder than hell to do that!
2/24/2010 12:45 PM PST
i really really love it i hope you win. i reallly like it alot
GOODLUCK I HAVE FAITH IN U!!!!!!!!!!!
IKNW U CAN DOIT GIRL
GOODLUCK I HAVE FAITH IN U!!!!!!!!!!!
IKNW U CAN DOIT GIRL
2/24/2010 10:16 AM PST
Sam: "Did you see Sue?"
Joe: "No. Why?"
Sam: "She cried from the heart. So sad."
Joe: "Why?"
Sam: "I don't know. I think she lost a friend."
Joe: "Oh, I know now. It was her Mom. Last week, I think>"
Sam: "I will send her a rose or two to cheer her. May take
her out to eat a steak. She loves steak."
Joe: "Well, so long for now, Sam. So good to see you this fine day."
Sam: "Take care. Want to play cards next week?"
Joe: "Sure do. Give me a call. Bye now."
Joe: "No. Why?"
Sam: "She cried from the heart. So sad."
Joe: "Why?"
Sam: "I don't know. I think she lost a friend."
Joe: "Oh, I know now. It was her Mom. Last week, I think>"
Sam: "I will send her a rose or two to cheer her. May take
her out to eat a steak. She loves steak."
Joe: "Well, so long for now, Sam. So good to see you this fine day."
Sam: "Take care. Want to play cards next week?"
Joe: "Sure do. Give me a call. Bye now."
2/23/2010 5:49 PM PST
On the gate at a dirt bike race. A scared new guy and a cool pro. New guy's hands cant stop the shakes. Pro look at him and laughs.
"Chill out, new guy. It's not so bad. Just breathe, you will be fine."
"I don't know, the track looks sick. I'm scared."
"So am I."
The pro winks at the new guy, starts his bike. New guy does the same.
New guy is stunned. "But you are a pro, how can you be scared."
"We are all scared, pros just don't let it stop them from fast laps. No fear, stay in back of me, do what I do when I do it."
The gate drop and the mixed race takes off. new guys and pros in the same race. New guy keeps the gas on and jumps the big gap.
"Wow, I did it."
Five laps in, the pros pull in back of the new guys. Our pro hounds new guy for a few turns then blasts by....a lap ahead and on the gas.
New guy flies past the last flag, he is in the top ten of his class. He will get a plaque for sure. Most guy's first race don't end up with a plaque. New guy made to the end and came out safe.
A race is like life- ups and downs and lots in the twixt.
"Chill out, new guy. It's not so bad. Just breathe, you will be fine."
"I don't know, the track looks sick. I'm scared."
"So am I."
The pro winks at the new guy, starts his bike. New guy does the same.
New guy is stunned. "But you are a pro, how can you be scared."
"We are all scared, pros just don't let it stop them from fast laps. No fear, stay in back of me, do what I do when I do it."
The gate drop and the mixed race takes off. new guys and pros in the same race. New guy keeps the gas on and jumps the big gap.
"Wow, I did it."
Five laps in, the pros pull in back of the new guys. Our pro hounds new guy for a few turns then blasts by....a lap ahead and on the gas.
New guy flies past the last flag, he is in the top ten of his class. He will get a plaque for sure. Most guy's first race don't end up with a plaque. New guy made to the end and came out safe.
A race is like life- ups and downs and lots in the twixt.
2/23/2010 5:44 PM PST
On the gate at a dirt bike race. A scared new guy and a cool pro. New guy's hands cant stop the shakes. Pro look at him and laughs.
"Chill out, new guy. It's not so bad. Just breathe, you will be fine."
"I don't know, the track looks sick. I'm scared."
"So am I."
The pro winks at the new guy, starts his bike. New guy does the same.
New guy is stunned. "But you are a pro, how can you be scared."
"We are all scared, pros just don't let it stop them from fast laps. No fear, stay in back of me, do what I do when I do it."
The gate drop and the mixed race takes off. new guys and pros in the same race. New guy keeps the gas on and jumps the bid gap.
"Wow, I did it."
Five laps in, the pros pull in back of the new guys. Our pro hounds new guy for a few turns then blasts by....a lap ahead and on the gas.
New guy gets the final flag, he is in the top ten of his class. He will get a plaque for sure. Most guys first race don't end up with a plaque, new guy made to the end and came out safe.
A race is like life- ups and downs and lots in the twixt.
"Chill out, new guy. It's not so bad. Just breathe, you will be fine."
"I don't know, the track looks sick. I'm scared."
"So am I."
The pro winks at the new guy, starts his bike. New guy does the same.
New guy is stunned. "But you are a pro, how can you be scared."
"We are all scared, pros just don't let it stop them from fast laps. No fear, stay in back of me, do what I do when I do it."
The gate drop and the mixed race takes off. new guys and pros in the same race. New guy keeps the gas on and jumps the bid gap.
"Wow, I did it."
Five laps in, the pros pull in back of the new guys. Our pro hounds new guy for a few turns then blasts by....a lap ahead and on the gas.
New guy gets the final flag, he is in the top ten of his class. He will get a plaque for sure. Most guys first race don't end up with a plaque, new guy made to the end and came out safe.
A race is like life- ups and downs and lots in the twixt.
2/23/2010 4:25 PM PST
The two boys, twins, found the dead man in the snow by the lake. A crutch at his side. There was ice cupped in his eyes. The snow fell so fast that no one would risk the walk up to their house at the top of the hill. No one but this man. The mail would be left for them at the foot of the hill, nailed to the oak tree, in a bag.
When it snowed, they felt like kings. Their Mom would say, "no one would trudge this mess."
She had sent them to get the mail.
Both of them stare at the strange man, the same way they stared at the deer skull their dog brought out of the woods last year. Still with fur and teeth. One eye. They hid it in the shed, to keep it safe from wolves. It too would get lost in there with the rest of their stuff. Like the old war badge, that their Dad, who had left for the great war the fall after they were born, said was worn by a man who risked his life for what he thought was right. But that was what their Mom said he said. But their most prized gem was the wolf skull. It was small. Not yet a full grown wolf, and they would run the length of their yard, with the skull on their head. They would howl at the sky, like they thought wolves would, deep in the woods at night. Much to the fright of their mom.
This was how they learned to pass time on snow days. The plows would come to the base of their steep hill and stop. This would leave them and their mom lost in the snow for days. Had they known it would be this bad, their mom would have sent them to pick up more meat and a loaf of bread. They were out of salt too.
The twins walked out on the thick ice of the lake. They looked back at the road, where they had left the strange corpse.
"You know him?" Pat said.
"Nope," Jake said.
"Think he's dead?" Pat said.
"Well, he's all blue. You want to go put your hand to his heart and see if it's still..."
"No way! What should we do with him?" Pat said.
They could see the plow truck down the hill through the woods. All the bare trees they've climbed. The truck turned back and went for town.
So the boys slipped back, and stood by the man. They could see their breath.
"Think he's got stuff," Pat asked.
They went through his coat. He had not one thing on him but a small badge with a gold bird on a cross. They took the ring off his finger too.
Both boys felt bad for the man, but did not say so. No one would find him for days. So they left him, and walked to their shed.
When it snowed, they felt like kings. Their Mom would say, "no one would trudge this mess."
She had sent them to get the mail.
Both of them stare at the strange man, the same way they stared at the deer skull their dog brought out of the woods last year. Still with fur and teeth. One eye. They hid it in the shed, to keep it safe from wolves. It too would get lost in there with the rest of their stuff. Like the old war badge, that their Dad, who had left for the great war the fall after they were born, said was worn by a man who risked his life for what he thought was right. But that was what their Mom said he said. But their most prized gem was the wolf skull. It was small. Not yet a full grown wolf, and they would run the length of their yard, with the skull on their head. They would howl at the sky, like they thought wolves would, deep in the woods at night. Much to the fright of their mom.
This was how they learned to pass time on snow days. The plows would come to the base of their steep hill and stop. This would leave them and their mom lost in the snow for days. Had they known it would be this bad, their mom would have sent them to pick up more meat and a loaf of bread. They were out of salt too.
The twins walked out on the thick ice of the lake. They looked back at the road, where they had left the strange corpse.
"You know him?" Pat said.
"Nope," Jake said.
"Think he's dead?" Pat said.
"Well, he's all blue. You want to go put your hand to his heart and see if it's still..."
"No way! What should we do with him?" Pat said.
They could see the plow truck down the hill through the woods. All the bare trees they've climbed. The truck turned back and went for town.
So the boys slipped back, and stood by the man. They could see their breath.
"Think he's got stuff," Pat asked.
They went through his coat. He had not one thing on him but a small badge with a gold bird on a cross. They took the ring off his finger too.
Both boys felt bad for the man, but did not say so. No one would find him for days. So they left him, and walked to their shed.
2/23/2010 4:21 PM PST
The two boys, twins, found the dead man in the snow by the lake. A crutch at his side. There was ice cupped in his eyes. The snow fell so fast that no one would risk the walk up to their house at the top of the hill. No one but this man. The mail would be left for them at the foot of the hill, nailed to the oak tree, in a bag.
When it snowed, they felt like kings. Their Mom would say, "no one would trudge this mess."
She had sent them to get the mail.
Both of them stare at the strange man, the same way they stared at the deer skull their dog brought out of the woods last year. Still with fur and teeth. One eye. They hid it in the shed, to keep it safe from wolves. It too would get lost in there with the rest of their stuff. Like the old war badge, that their Dad, who had left for the great war the fall after they were born, said was worn by a man who risked his life for what he thought was right. But that was what their Mom said he said. But their most prized gem was the wolf skull. It was small. Not yet a full grown wolf, and they would run the length of their yard, with the skull on their head. The would howl at the sky, like they thought wolves would, deep in the woods at night. Much to the fright of their mom.
This was how they learned to pass time on snow days. The plows would come to the base of their steep hill and stop. This would leave them and their mom lost in the snow for days. Had they known it would be this bad, ther mom would have sent them to pick up more meat and a loaf of bread. They were out of salt too.
The twins walked out on the thick ice of the lake. They looked back at the road, where they had left the strange corpse.
"You know him?" Pat said.
"Nope," Jake said.
"Think he's dead?" Pat said.
"Well, he's all blue. You want to go put your hand to his heart and see if it's still..."
"No way! What should we do with him?" Pat said.
They could see the plow truck down the hill through the woods. All the bare trees they've climbed. The truck turned back and went for town.
So the boys slipped back, and stood by the man. They could see their breath.
"Think he's got stuff," Pat asked.
They went through his coat. He had not one thing on him but a small badge with a gold bird on a cross. They took the ring off his finger too.
Both boys felt bad for the man, but did not say so. No one would find him for days. So they left him, and walked to their shed.
When it snowed, they felt like kings. Their Mom would say, "no one would trudge this mess."
She had sent them to get the mail.
Both of them stare at the strange man, the same way they stared at the deer skull their dog brought out of the woods last year. Still with fur and teeth. One eye. They hid it in the shed, to keep it safe from wolves. It too would get lost in there with the rest of their stuff. Like the old war badge, that their Dad, who had left for the great war the fall after they were born, said was worn by a man who risked his life for what he thought was right. But that was what their Mom said he said. But their most prized gem was the wolf skull. It was small. Not yet a full grown wolf, and they would run the length of their yard, with the skull on their head. The would howl at the sky, like they thought wolves would, deep in the woods at night. Much to the fright of their mom.
This was how they learned to pass time on snow days. The plows would come to the base of their steep hill and stop. This would leave them and their mom lost in the snow for days. Had they known it would be this bad, ther mom would have sent them to pick up more meat and a loaf of bread. They were out of salt too.
The twins walked out on the thick ice of the lake. They looked back at the road, where they had left the strange corpse.
"You know him?" Pat said.
"Nope," Jake said.
"Think he's dead?" Pat said.
"Well, he's all blue. You want to go put your hand to his heart and see if it's still..."
"No way! What should we do with him?" Pat said.
They could see the plow truck down the hill through the woods. All the bare trees they've climbed. The truck turned back and went for town.
So the boys slipped back, and stood by the man. They could see their breath.
"Think he's got stuff," Pat asked.
They went through his coat. He had not one thing on him but a small badge with a gold bird on a cross. They took the ring off his finger too.
Both boys felt bad for the man, but did not say so. No one would find him for days. So they left him, and walked to their shed.
2/23/2010 3:08 PM PST
Her pain was great when she saw his tears, but she had none of her own to give. They had been used up in the arms of men she used and then tossed as a child flings a doll. This one was strange. He was a man with deep love that stung her heart like no one else had. As she climbed the stairs, knife in hand, she knew she could not let this go on. She was not used to pain. Pain was wrong. Pain had to be purged. She drew the knife up and brought it down. The dull sound of steel through flesh was cold. But then she thought it was a fine sound. And the blood, yes the blood was a thing she had seen more than once. Though she did not love, she did kill. It seemed her lot in life to kill. What else was there? In her warped mind, all who would cry would need the knife. Yes she liked to kill, loved the scent of blood, and dragged this want through her being, through her mind, through her heart. But it was the one thing that kept her sane... in her mind.
2/23/2010 2:55 PM PST
When I think how i ask "how high" each time my man shouts "jump" I hang my head and cry.He is not God but acts like he is and i am his slave to tend his needs . But no more, as the gun gives a breath of smoke his life is gone and I am calm and want to sing and dance and be as god would want,free.
2/23/2010 2:44 PM PST
I walk to the front door of my home to find my loved ones there, with looks of joy. "Go, Mom, go to the front door, see what is there!". From far, I can not view the tiny sight out of eyes view. It looks soft, white and quiet.
"What is this?" I think but hope for my desire, a pet to call my own. I have been sad of late, not my old self. I dream of a small dog to stroke and hold. I ask for it but am told "No" times in the past, thus it is not in my mind.
I walk up to the door, as I get close, yes, it is there. A tsmall, white, brown and grey dog, It looks so soft, in need of love like me at this time of my life. Tears flow from my eyes and I know that this is a gift of love. But who is this from? Who else but my Mom. Mom's love goes on and on. Thank you Mom for this love that I too, will pass on. Thank you for my pup to love .
"What is this?" I think but hope for my desire, a pet to call my own. I have been sad of late, not my old self. I dream of a small dog to stroke and hold. I ask for it but am told "No" times in the past, thus it is not in my mind.
I walk up to the door, as I get close, yes, it is there. A tsmall, white, brown and grey dog, It looks so soft, in need of love like me at this time of my life. Tears flow from my eyes and I know that this is a gift of love. But who is this from? Who else but my Mom. Mom's love goes on and on. Thank you Mom for this love that I too, will pass on. Thank you for my pup to love .
2/23/2010 1:55 PM PST
Deep in the dark cave lay two folk, one of which was deep in the arms of sleep. The other was not, his dark locks not quite able to hide the woes in the depths of his blue eyes. They did not show scorn at the girl in rest, but they were not quite soft either. No show of pleas or tears of gall were able to quench his throat, not in sight of how long he had chased her trail. The paths of tears were still there in the grime on her cheeks. It would be daft to think they were tears of grief.
And that was her loss. Her charm was a far cry from what her roots should have brought to life, yet fate was cruel in it's way of her birth. Had she been less of a rouge, the easy, rich life that came with her line of kin would have been quite a fine one. It was bland to this one.
The rain fell down some more past the cave, with no signs of a want to pass any time soon. It was due to this that his boss had sent him after her. The fool should have known that he would not be back in time to beat the storm. It meant he would hear it once he got back, but he felt no care for it. There would be no real can of worms to deal with once they both got back.
He looked down at the girl.
"Do you so much as care how much all your kin feared for you?"
The girl sent him a soft snore as her plea.
He had to give it to her. As the lone free soul in her group, such an end was bound to come to pass once more, and once more it did. The chains of a good, fine life were a curse to one who did not wish to have it. Not if it came with a dull life.
The man had a slight smirk.
"I should be mad, but I just can not be mad at you for that."
He laid his coat over her, since he knew her real trials would start once they went home. There was naught he could do in light of that.
And that was her loss. Her charm was a far cry from what her roots should have brought to life, yet fate was cruel in it's way of her birth. Had she been less of a rouge, the easy, rich life that came with her line of kin would have been quite a fine one. It was bland to this one.
The rain fell down some more past the cave, with no signs of a want to pass any time soon. It was due to this that his boss had sent him after her. The fool should have known that he would not be back in time to beat the storm. It meant he would hear it once he got back, but he felt no care for it. There would be no real can of worms to deal with once they both got back.
He looked down at the girl.
"Do you so much as care how much all your kin feared for you?"
The girl sent him a soft snore as her plea.
He had to give it to her. As the lone free soul in her group, such an end was bound to come to pass once more, and once more it did. The chains of a good, fine life were a curse to one who did not wish to have it. Not if it came with a dull life.
The man had a slight smirk.
"I should be mad, but I just can not be mad at you for that."
He laid his coat over her, since he knew her real trials would start once they went home. There was naught he could do in light of that.
2/17/2010 8:39 AM PST
Can I enter more than one story? I really like this challenge!
2/17/2010 4:00 AM PST
I hope you all enjoy my short story.
2/17/2010 2:58 AM PST
<p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Ari!", Mrs bailey called again.Ari heard her mother call as she stood in front of hte mirror giving the last touch to her make up, that is, a touch of brown powder for face and a rub of lip gloss for her lips. it shouldnt have taken so much time, she love flawlessness.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "I'm done here." she called back, running to her bed to get her bag.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Be fast or Nick will leave you bahind." her mom yelled back, now almost at her door.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> Ari heard her mom at the passageway and quickly jam packed all the cloths scattered on the floor of her room into an available cloth basket. Then she ran to the door before her mom enters, so as to avoid another lecture obeing neat. she loves her mom, but she just gets this killer headache anytime she is she's passing her lectures.That's why Ari has always wished for an automatic room maker to help arrange her room, she's sure her mom would appreciate it, and there will be no more lectures about being neat.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> Ari came out of her room just in time to stop her mom from turning the door knob.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Here i am." she said to her mom with a big grin, and her back guiding the door.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> her mom could not help but smile. With a shake of her head, she at her from head to toe.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "I see." she said finally, her eyes twinkling with amusement at what her daughter was wearing. Then she smelt something.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Arianna Elisabeth Bailey!"</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> Ari knew what she did, so she hurried to the stairs with her bag dangling from her hand and called when she got to the bottom of the stairs. "It'sperfume."</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Mine i think." her mom replied, her hands on her hips. Now she was at hte head of the stairs.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Oww mom." Ari said with a wounded look on her face.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> Her mom's attention shifted to somthing beyond Ari's shoulder. Ar turned to check what it was and saw it was her brother, Nick. And he was already going back to the c with anger in his steps.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Okay mom, got to go." she said with a knowing smile.</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> her mom shakes her head trying to hold back her chuckle. she knows what was going to happen before they get to school...arguement!</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Love you , kisses." Ari called, hurrying out of the house with her bag in tow, when she heard the car horn. her mom laughed and siad to her self,</span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Ari, she is never in a hurry."<br></span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><br></span></span></p><p><span mce_style="font-size: medium;" style="font-size: medium;"><span mce_style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;" style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"><br></span></span></p>
2/16/2010 7:51 AM PST
In case anyone is confused, submit the entry by clicking "start a new chapter" and posting it that way.
2/14/2010 10:03 PM PST
haha, interesting... >:)
2/13/2010 6:31 PM PST
This looks like a very exciting challenge.
Just for clarification, is there only to be one line of dialogue, or "at least" one line of dialogue?
Thank you!
Just for clarification, is there only to be one line of dialogue, or "at least" one line of dialogue?
Thank you!
This Feedback was...
Start Reading
more » Chapters
top
jump
more » Chapters
bottom
jump
Become a fan
Follow us
Become a fan