June 2011
Idk what this is....you like? Should I write more?
“They were lab partners,” said Mrs. Cecil, on the brink of tears. “I assigned their first project and they worked great…So I just kept them together. They never caused any trouble or anything!”
“Did Miles ever show any suspicious behavior?” asked the Officer, adjusting his aviators.
“No, never! He was such a sweet boy! Are you sure he-“
...
Summer
A pink flag, creased and tattered in the grass
‘Nothing is worth more than this day’
Rough cement steps on a grassy hillside
Bright roses, endless roads, waving reeds
Bees buzzing in a tornado of black and yellow
Trees blowing fiercely in the wind
A pastel green sweater
Red fire hydrants,
Red parking sings,
Red flag stripes.
A squirrel lapping up dirty water.
“Alright...
Prompt: Write about an artichoke without really...
A building beneath New Year’s fireworks
A million green hands reach out to touch the sky
Flower petals straining to outgrow each other
An explosion greater than Hiroshima
A heart trapped beneath layers and layers
Grey clouds, lush grass, thistle grown in the earth
Geometric shapes, rows after rows
A hundred solid feathers
A pyramid held by a flower stem
The eye of a hurricane
A...
Perfection
He tosses it to her, the small, mottled chunk of old glass, with edges smooth from the brush of the waves. “What no the pink one?” she says, turning the stone over and over in her small, soft hands.
“Pink one was too smooth,” he says, shoving his hands in his jean’s pockets, “too perfect.”
The sea-green stone was pretty, but it still had dents, creases,...
Day 3: Amnesia Recovery (Second Person...
Your hand trails down the rough white blankets covering his warm body, touching his leg and then bringing your fingers up to brush the soft skin of his face. His big green eyes stared deep into yours. “Do I know you?” he says softly, his voice rough from sleep.
“Yes,” you said, pressing your lips together as silent tears poured down your cheeks, your throat contracting as...
4 tags
Day 2: Dependency.
My hands tremble as I reach tremulously towards my alarm clock, my fingers seeking the tiny button farthest away from the warmth of my bed. My throat was thick, dry, and shut tight so that only a whistle of air filled my tired lungs. A deep pounding rhythm spread through my head, my blood thundering in my brain. I groaned and pushed my knotted hair out of my clammy forehead.
My bare feet slapped...
5 tags
Day 1: Love
I wouldn’t say I’ve ever had my first real love. Mine was based on a string of cheesy, unrelated text messages and a steaming slice of cold shoulder. Flattery was his most successful weapon: an arrow of pretty, a slingshot of beautiful, a blade of perfect. I wasn’t careful, I didn’t see his layer of secrets, his shadow of doubt at every tap to “send”.
I...
I thank my friend for this
1. Write about your first experience with love. 2. Write about being completely dependent on something or someone. 3. Write in second person perspective, helping a lover recover from amnesia. 4. Write a scene/story/poem that involves skydiving. 5. Write a scene/story/poem that takes place in a boat. 6. Write about waking up. 7. Describe a smell and tell us how it makes you feel. 8. Write about a...
Yuck. I don't know what this is. I stopped writing...
Hot blood slipped down my trembling arm, dripping into the bandages on my wrists, staining them a vicious scarlet. I whimper at the throbbing pain seeping from the gaping cut in my shoulder. My shirt slipped farther down my body, cut open by a deadly sharpened triple blade. I shuddered again, gulping in air, my throat dry.
It was dark. The only light came from a fading bulb hung by a single rusty...
