"Hope is the denial of reality. It is the carrot dangled before the draft horse to keep him plodding along in a vain attempt to reach it." Raistlin Majere, Dragons of Autumn Twilight (written by Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman)
To emphasize again, this is not mine.
It was an ancient and vexingly unanswered question: If the moon had a moon cow, would that moon cow moo? We elected to find out.
Last edited by shashekar; June 8th, 2009 at 10:50 PM.
I would buy this book.Originally Posted by Hoodwink
After 3 months of travel, finally, the vending machine appeared before us.
And one more bonus:
The explosion erupted in the distance, and I had successfully eliminating the greatest threat ever to the known world. I hear the voice of my companion:
"Why did we just blow up the tree stump again?"
Way to many, but I'm not a writer, and therefore don't have a knack for this type of thing.
Yeah, I agree shashekar, hoodwink has a good one there.
Ok, here it goes, making it up on the fly...
Just when I had him in my sights, the insistent urge to pee overwhelmed me and I missed. Captain told us not to wait.
I know, it makes no sense, it's just what came out. Excuse me, I'm off to the loo...
The troops skidded to an abrupt halt. Cornered, Bruce Banner turned, shirt already tearing, eyes glowing emerald.
"Stop! Gamma time!" he roared.
He lifted the hem of his dress and noticed a thin trail of blood running down his leg. "Hmm," he said, "that's interesting."
some of my own openers:
"Commence the days of the Piss Patrol. A stream of yellow trucks topped with flashing blue and white lights rolls into town every Tuesday at dawn."
"Did I ever tell you about the time we were in Egypt and ran the old sun-king con? This was a good one."
"“Hey Boa, think ya kin bag dem growshrees annuh fastuh? Mah ahs creem is a mettin’!” The old fart stands there spouting off like it’s still 1940."
Last edited by swords; September 11th, 2009 at 12:11 AM.
She sashayed into my office on a breath of jasmine, the breeze from my open window billowing glimpses of the pale secrets waxed beneath.
Beautifully and elegantly written, Erebus. Sounds like poetry.
It must have been several days before I awoke in the hospital bed. Tubes and wires entered and exited my ruined body via every orifice.
Last edited by Sticktator; September 25th, 2009 at 11:05 AM.
This is from the start of the final book of my trilogy (the previous two are still unpublished) I'm taking a five minute break from - (I must be on something. It took me a minute to remeber how to spell minute - wife must have spiked my drink again.)
'With glee, Kreture danced along the Keep’s highest wall singing shrilly as the sun’s gentle kiss warmed the goblin’s jaundice colored flesh.'
Last edited by tyriseus; September 27th, 2009 at 12:05 AM. Reason: blatant grammar mistake
This thread is AMAZING. I couldn't breathe on some of these, I was laughing so hard. And...i really wanna read stories that come from the sentences in this thread.
right...some of these are from unfinished stories by me...
-I woke up in a cold sweat. The dreams had started again.-
-She looked back at me, normally soft eyes sharp and clear. "I'm sorry." Then she drove the knife into my chest and twisted it.-
-This story is not a true tale. But then again - what stories are?-
-Dith leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He wished idly that he could close his ears as well. The poet droned on.-
-Dreaming…Except he wasn’t. His previous dreams were terrifying, filled with violence and terror, and he could always smell the sickening coppery tang of blood.-
-Lydia had been climbing down from a window when she heard the soft pop of a silencer. She instinctively ducked, flattening herself against the wall-
-“Wow.” Said Lydia. “That was impressive. Would have been nice if you hadn’t shot my wall, but, hey, I’m alive, and that’s the important thing.”-
-A friend once told me never to take the easy path; that it only leads to even harder paths. I regretted not listening to him.-
-I was dangling by my fingertips from a cliff making absurd promises to God and not looking down at the hard-looking rock below me.-
-No, I wasn’t going to trust him with my life. I still wasn’t sure if I would trust him with my kid sister’s pet Pomeranian.-
Immediately made me think of Emperor Nero, who used to insist his subjects listen to his 'concerts' for hours on end. He refused to let anyone leave, so sometimes women would fake going into labor or fainting so they could leave.
We light a lantern in autumn, the time when the freaks come down the from mountain.
Thanks, glad you enjoyed it!
Last edited by Erebus-writes; November 30th, 2009 at 08:20 AM.
that's pretty sweetness....reminds me of this neil gaiman graphic novel series...the sandman?
anyway...
all i could think of were her eyes...and then she was dead.
under cover of darkness, i entered the city...with, thankfully, less fanfare than i'd left with the first time they'd kicked me out.
The air smelled of blood, smoke, and death. Isrofael grinned. She was having the time of her life.
Ouch. Hitting the ground hurt. then i looked up and saw the little gremlins...and ran like hell.
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