"The first thing I saw when I stepped into my Uncle's embalming room was a filthy, plastic mop bucket."
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"The first thing I saw when I stepped into my Uncle's embalming room was a filthy, plastic mop bucket."
Science Fiction:
A thousand fingers pointed to the sky. The light became so bright that the people cringed, and covered their eyes.
Fantasy:
"My fairies will saturate your kingdom in pestilence!"
War:
The dark figure loomed over my prone body. He swung the giant scabbard toward my head. All at once, his chest exploded in a blaze of red.
Horror:
He stared at the corpus delecti. "This is the cadaver?"
Comedy:
"No, you stupid toad. Put down that pickle. Roxy, stop staring."
:D
- 9.
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Shaya felt his hands on her back, and the urge was too strong: she turned and kissed him, knowing later she would fiercely regret it.
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"Does that mean I'm a failure?"
"No, it means....yeah, it means you're a failure."
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"I love chicken," she mumbled in ecstcasy.
He turned. "But not as much as I love you."
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The sky was pure black. The ground was dusty brown. Did that explain why I was turning green? No, I don't think so.
I hope you like...Quote:
The ship rocked slowly, and the waves crashed. And she was part of it all. An unusual gift.....a beautiful one...
The little girl is only nine years old, but she knows blood when she sees it. She remembers that day she fell off her bike and grazed her knee.
With the fifth recital of Jamie's murmured chant, Jenny fell backwards, limp, mid-sentence. The Bottle rattled on its base, twirling until it threatened to topple.
It made her sick, and that was the truth of it, to see Mother liking the saw like that. Especially since Claire had seen what it did to her.
Welcome to my Dalek poetry reading, this one's called daffodils:
Exterminate daffodils! :D
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"I need....water...."
"But there is none, Zephyr!"
"Then I guess this is.....goodbye."
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"You can't go in there! You'll die!"
"My parents are in there, Kirea!"
"But it's dangerous..."
"My life is dangerous. Why not take risks?"
I like this thread......Quote:
Marruin saw them, swarming and circling, and she knew with horrible certainty that Luke was dead, and that she was going to die, too.
"The dying words of my grandfather were meant to be heard, but they tumbled between his feeble lips like withered moths with his final breath and were crushed by a roar of thunder."
so sad.....
okay, some more. I like this thread. :D
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The TV was blank....except for that one spot...
She drew closer......what was it?
That was when the house exploded.
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Lightning flashed, illuminating the figure on the cliff. She smiled menacingly, then jumped as her lover screamed below.
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I unfurled my wings and flew onward.....that is, until the gunmen started firing.
I find that most writing deals with the sense of sight, or sound. Very few people ever attempt to write descriptives dealing with the sense of smell. Perhaps because it is unnervingly difficult, or perhaps because it just doesn't occur; I'm not sure.
In any case, when I was in highschool -- oh, so many years ago -- I began a short story with a line dealing with the sense of smell. I don't know if it's a 'hook', or even worth keeping, but I'll throw it into the mix:
The docks were old, salty smelling, and given to the occasional waft of sun-dried fish.
That's all.
Christopher
Interesting. I never realized that. Well, I'll give it a go...
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The air was fresh and clean, and the wind carried the scent of something beautiful....well, something that was once beautiful.
How does one overthrow an empire? he thought. "Simple is best," he whispered, wheeling around to face his Emperor. His sword sang in its flight.
This is a very good thread. Lets give it a go...
or...Quote:
I raised me face from my bloodied prey, crimson drops caressing down my chin. I took in the wintry air and thought, "God! that feels good".
in response to Remaxx comment...Quote:
This was a sunny day. Looking down at her brother's corpse, something snaped inside Rayna's mind. Time for revenge. A sunny day, indeed...
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Laying on is back, Rafe breathe in, trying to find the scent of leather, iron and cold sweat. The scent of his brothers in arm.
An sf first line - I think I'll work this up into a short and see how many different minds I can fit in one brain...Quote:
I can feel it happening. I lie down and hawk a grim mouthful – my next personality is gonna wake up with spit in his face.
That one is great.Quote:
Originally Posted by Noumenon
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I looked up in time to see him give me his smile, before quietly fading into thin air. Did I see it? Twas it memory?
I like this thread....:D
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"I so don't want to get into this mess", he thought with a sigh, before he charged the door open and met the unknown...
I realy love that thread! :DQuote:
People can be so judgemental! A girl can't even have a tiny bit of human flesh in her frig without being called a monster...