author stringlengths 3 22 | parent_id stringlengths 8 10 | subreddit stringclasses 1 value | id stringlengths 7 7 | created_utc int64 1.28B 1.67B | link_id stringlengths 8 10 | body stringlengths 0 39.5k | score int64 -1,101 23.1k | permalink stringlengths 44 93 ⌀ |
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jimjimjimmyjimmyjimj | t1_c5q4h5h | WritingPrompts | c5q7lmt | 1,344,464,044 | t3_x6y4p | You two are two of my favorite people | 4 | null |
RyanKinder | t1_c5q7hbh | WritingPrompts | c5q7m7b | 1,344,464,102 | t3_x6y4p | Breathe deep. It will flow back to you. I believe this to be true. :) | 2 | null |
darwins_hoya | t3_xwbd1 | WritingPrompts | c5q7r56 | 1,344,464,601 | t3_xwbd1 | All of them are against me. In their desperate attempts to reconcile their thirst for power and their yearning for attention, they alienate me. Sexuality is their tool, shallowness is their nature, and sloth is their motivation. Without their high castles and their men, they are nothing but distasteful swine. They fear our liberation will cost them their spot at the right hand of the tyrant, and selectively accept the spoils of their second-class citizenship. We fought hard for our place now, and all they want is to regress to the Stone Age or some idealist 1950’s Levittown. I am strong. I am beautiful. I am different and they fear my power. I need no one but myself so if they want their spray tans and STD’s they can keep them, I am me. | 3 | null |
oblivioususerNAME | t3_xee88 | WritingPrompts | c5q7rfp | 1,344,464,630 | t3_xee88 | They say it is soothing once you let go, but it is hard, the constant panic before the moment of calm. It is calm right here, with the senses impaired and I am just falling. Why can I not let go. I fear it will hurt and not that it will be over. It is already over, take it, TAKE IT. I can not control my body anymore.
It is over, I am calm. | 1 | null |
kittyportals | t3_xvr6e | WritingPrompts | c5q7tuk | 1,344,464,878 | t3_xvr6e | "Is that it?" He sighed. "Yeah. I hate watching these." "It's necessary. We have to know." Bob pushed the tape into the TV/VCR player that was all the department could afford. Up on the screen appeared a little boy, about three, clutching a teddy bear. "Don't. Please, not again!" The close ups were the worst. He reviewed it all. "We have it. It's all we need." Another day, another perp. One day, one day, we won't have to do this any more, thought Bob. If the medicine works, we'll never have to do this again. He sighed, and for the last time, picked up the phone. "Pick him up. He's ours." The last man to be arrested for that hideous crime would be the first treated with the new cure. | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xvr6e | WritingPrompts | c5q7u1o | 1,344,464,900 | t3_xvr6e | [deleted] | 3 | null |
MostProper | t1_c5q0v36 | WritingPrompts | c5q7ue0 | 1,344,464,936 | t3_x6y4p | Damn I just got schooled too. Way to go. | 3 | null |
chotheamazing | t3_xw3xk | WritingPrompts | c5q7ujx | 1,344,464,951 | t3_xw3xk | The darkest night shone nothing short of melancholy upon my pale skin. I looked to the sky for guidance but not a star was there to guide me. The world had turned its back, as I drifted into a state of unconsciousness. I was never free. But years of pain had brought me to this moment in time. This moment, where I had met my fate tonight. At last, I was home. | 1 | null |
AichSmize | t3_x6y4p | WritingPrompts | c5q7ur0 | 1,344,464,972 | t3_x6y4p | Agony. Beyond pain, fire wracked her body, curling fingers licking her flesh. Close by, the stench of smoke and burning flesh filled the air with a vicious miasma. Drenched in sweat she howled, shrieks of a throat raw and bleeding from screams.
Echoing across the darkened courtyard, her shrieks fell among hard faces, grim with hate. Fire rose higher, igniting more faggots on the pyre. Great billows of smoke flowed forth, fouling the air. Higher the flames rose, reaching for her hungrily. Incense from pendulous censers mixed with the smoke, making a mist of horror. Jerking, screeching, she tried to pull away.
Keeping close watch, murmuring dark-cowled figures pushed her back, stoking the flames with torches, guttering and spitting oil in the incendiary night. Lost in the roar of burning fire, her screams diminished, a wail of lost piteous toil, as the fire kept its deadly purpose. Many eyes watched, the fire’s reflection a burning torch in their own eyes. Never blinking, the desolate faces stared at her, still writhing in the fire’s grip.
Onward the flames rose, lighting her dress’s hem, raising a curdling screech. Plain terror echoed her voice, horse in the smoke and roar. Questing, searching, her eyes flicked, but there was no surcease from the crowd. Raw with terror, her wails raised a murmur in the crowd, a slow chant. Slowly it built, words forming, point by counterpoint with her screams. Throwing more wood, even the dark-cowled gaolers joined the chant. Under the howl of the fire, it grew louder. Voices joined one by one until it was clear, all chanting in unison. “Witch, burn witch, burn witch burn.”
Xanthin from marigolds was thrown into the pyre by a dark figure as the chant rose. Yellow flames burned brighter as she torched, her final wail fading into the smoky mist. Zeal absolved, the dark crowd chanted as one, watching as the body melted, sizzling lumps of fat splattering onto the guttering pyre.
| 4 | null |
MostProper | t1_c5q0or3 | WritingPrompts | c5q7vb4 | 1,344,465,030 | t3_x6y4p | There was also alphabetical slaughter by papoose. | 1 | null |
Bunnyfloppyearz | t3_xwbd1 | WritingPrompts | c5q7whq | 1,344,465,149 | t3_xwbd1 | Okay. You can do this. You're good looking, smart, and god-damn, the ladies will want you. Oh, look at that one over there! She's hot! Now, remember, you don't give a shit about her. You don't want sex. You don't need sex. Fuck her. Fuck that bitch. Did she just look over here? Just act casual. Act natural. I wonder if she shaves her pussy? Okay, she's definitely looking at you, just walk over there and introduce yourself. YOU DA MAN! "Hi, my name's John." That's all you have to say. Fuck it, she probably has a boyfriend anyway. I'm just going to get hammered tonight. WOOOO!!!!!!! | 2 | null |
oblivioususerNAME | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q7wn5 | 1,344,465,163 | t3_xwio1 | Haiku first try.
You can not see me
I am not he she or it
For I am my own. | 6 | null |
_Thrillhouse_ | t3_xo6tl | WritingPrompts | c5q7wv4 | 1,344,465,187 | t3_xo6tl | A softly shallow pink heart
Shines through the stars of time
A horseshoe meets it's maker
A clover fits my rhyme
Blue moons shine through the darkness
A pot of gold full of dabloons
The rainbow flutters briefly
As I count 99 red balloons
A bowlful soon, a handful now, diabetes is an alarm
I do not care, it's worth the risk, they'll never take my lucky charms | 3 | null |
JohnLayman | t3_xhs36 | WritingPrompts | c5q7x3w | 1,344,465,211 | t3_xhs36 | Nick idly pressed buttons on his cell phone. Beth was tapping out some unknown pop song with her pen.
Beth grinned, "How does goodbye sound?" with a cackle in her voice.
"That's just cruel. Six years, Beth. I'm not going to just end it with "goodbye"." Nick slid his phone a few inches away and stared at the lock screen; a picture of him and Kristi.
"Ah, L'amour. When are you going to change that picture?"
"When the breakup is official."
"Then send the text."
"Breaking up via text is insensitive."
"It was YOUR idea."
Beth was twirling the pencil now. Nick picked the phone up again, flicking it to his text messages and opening up Kristi PSYCHO DO NOT CALL.
"So you've changed my contacts."
"Just one."
Nick fumbled his thumbs on the touchscreen and took at least three breaths before hitting "Send".
The door opened only minutes later. Beth muttered the word "Uncanny" under her breath. Kristi slumped in. Slumped as her body was held aloft by sheer force of will and the barest remainder of sobriety.
Nick stood. "Kristi, what are you doing here?"
Kristi took one long stumble up to Nick and pulled his collar until their foreheads knocked together. Nick stared at his now-blurry, now-ex girlfriend and figured he probably looked blurrier to her. At least he hoped.
"A texsht."
WHACK! Kristi leveled Nick with the quarter-full bottle of alcohol and followed him to the ground. Beth jumped back from her chair, (and moved behind it, the table, and what was not likely a safe distance).
"Here we are, Nicky bicky icky. At the croshroads of some path somewhere in our relashunship. And you put us here." Kristi slid the bottle of Colt 45 and held it against Nick's head.
She certainly didn't see the chair coming. Even Beth was surprised it happened and she was the one holding the chair. Nick felt the lump growing on the side of his head.
"Okay. So I just did that...what do we do now?"
Nick sat up.
Kristi woke up six hours later. Nick knew this because she happened to wake up five minutes into visiting hours. The bare minimum would of course be to ensure she didn't receive any brain damage. Well...serious brain damage.
"Hey...beautiful."
Nick flinched, ready to regret the doctor's decision not to strap Kristi to the hospital bed. Instead, Kristi just lay there with her eyes to the ceiling.
Nick sat on the bed next to her. "You know, in the end..."
Kristi interrupted him, "I should have seen this coming."
The silence went on for another five minutes and Nick just stared at Kristi's hospital bed, unable to meet her eyes. Eventually his gaze went to the floor and he took one long, slow deep breath. "Kristi, I'm-"
The bedpan clanged hard on the back of his head and Nick went face first to the floor.
"You bastard!" Kristi kept banging away while Nick tried to shield his face. He knew, that in the end, *he* should have seen this coming. He looked up at the hospital bed next to him and saw it took three orderlies to subdue her.
"Ah, l'amour." | 1 | null |
RyanKinder | t1_c5q5wjy | WritingPrompts | c5q7xfx | 1,344,465,248 | t3_xvr6e | 'round these parts we consider contractions as one word. | 3 | null |
BlassyBlas | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5q7xqe | 1,344,465,278 | t3_xweet | Really? Again? How many times do I have to show her I love her. Those blue eyes, golden blonde hair, her incredible fashion sense. Sometimes I really think its me. Sometimes I don't feel good enough. It cant be my hair? I've been told I can be a bit assertive, but you have to be in my position. I mean, I have friends...workers...minions. But what girl doesn't like a guy with power. I own a castle for Christ sake! What more do I need? Obviously she doesn't care about looks if she's constantly out with that short, dirty plumber. I mean come on! We get it, you're a plumber! I Know you don't work THAT much where you have to wear you're uniform EVERYWHERE you go! Get some new clothes with your paycheck. I'm just as good as him. You know what? I'm going to surprise her with a date, I'll pick her up and take her to my place. Yeah, that sounds great. She'll love the gesture and how spontaneous I can be. I just hope that Mario doesn't ruin things, as always. | 15 | null |
SurvivorType | t1_c5q2emh | WritingPrompts | c5q7zsm | 1,344,465,497 | t3_xvvs1 | I really enjoyed this! | 1 | null |
SurvivorType | t1_c5q4ltr | WritingPrompts | c5q80mc | 1,344,465,586 | t3_x6y4p | I too am curious. Hmmm... | 10 | null |
MostProper | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5q8172 | 1,344,465,647 | t3_x6y4p | Hey your writing really inspired to put pen to paper again. I've been in a rut for a while. Im going to start coming to this subreddit more often. | 3 | null |
Uhgii | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5q817l | 1,344,465,649 | t3_x6y4p | ["Zeroing" is good, but...](http://i.imgur.com/ykHdI.jpg) | 27 | null |
SurvivorType | t1_c5q3rwt | WritingPrompts | c5q81q0 | 1,344,465,704 | t3_xqa1u | Wow! That was unexpected! I like it! | 2 | null |
planktonshmankton | t1_c5q3fag | WritingPrompts | c5q81ql | 1,344,465,705 | t3_x6y4p | Really sad though. | 1 | null |
Timelord--win | t3_xw3xk | WritingPrompts | c5q82r0 | 1,344,465,813 | t3_xw3xk | The broken reflections cry out in frustration, their anger lashing out at me from every side. This place is mine, an empty space I leave filled with my memories too painful to bear. This decrepit construct, long since forgotten by all but the rats that have made it their home, is my sanctuary from the lemmings who wander the streets. Making my ascent to the roof I shimmy along the deserted railing, long since having no stairs attached. I tell myself that I must watch my feet to make sure I do not misplace them; but this lie brings no comfort, I have long since memorized every inch of the abandoned factory. But this is all I can do to keep my eyes from the reflections of the broken windows. The angry man who I can never escape, why does he hate me so? It was never supposed to be this way, this place used to be my fortress, nothing could hurt me here. Maybe that's why it hurts so much; the memories that I've pent up in here are too much for this old building to hold. They have begun to leak and spread and that angry man, he knows why, knows what I've done. Maybe that’s why he hates me so.
The wind gusted in from the west, bringing with it leaves that glisten as they're illuminated by the moon. The cold stone of the roof drains what was the last hint of warmth from my empty and dejected figure. Here I'm free from that inflamed man, but this no longer brings comfort as there is so much else to fear. I rise up and stand on the ledge, why continue on when there is so much to hate in this world? When there is nobody else who understands, who can see the truth for what it is? Leave blow past my eyes and the moon draws my full attention for the first time. The moon fills the entire horizon its beauty overwhelms me. I remember that this is why I put up with it all. The grotesqueness of my life seems so unimportant in comparison with our vast universe. There are limitless possibilities and so much to enjoy without getting caught up in the petty lives of all the sheeple. I breathe as deeply as I can and accept my past that haunts me, it is then that I know longer feel the presence of the angry man in my reflection. I lift my foot to step backwards, to go home, when my foot slips. With no time to react I fall forward; I don’t scream, or panic, I simply fall.
| 1 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5q83hx | 1,344,465,893 | t3_x6y4p | Grammar nazi says that "Creaks in the back, aches in the knees, pain all over, really." is not a sentence. | 1 | null |
staffell | t1_c5q1fcw | WritingPrompts | c5q84dr | 1,344,465,985 | t3_x6y4p | No. | 2 | null |
BlassyBlas | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q857q | 1,344,466,067 | t3_xwio1 | "Always running through second place" they repeated constantly after losing another event. Preparing months, staying overly consistent with practice, over thinking once again that maybe winning first place could actually happen. Seeing that growing older made people demand more gold medals, when sometimes winning could involve even participating. Second isn't that terrible when your hard work shines through. Being last isn't awful either when effort becomes the journey, when modesty becomes winning.
without using words less than 4 letters definitely makes you think more. | 3 | null |
garishbourne | t3_xw1k6 | WritingPrompts | c5q85gz | 1,344,466,092 | t3_xw1k6 | There...there's no downvote button here. I feel so free! | 17 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5q7wn5 | WritingPrompts | c5q85ox | 1,344,466,116 | t3_xwio1 | I think you got that one wrong. | 4 | null |
malumalu | t1_c5q6egf | WritingPrompts | c5q85t9 | 1,344,466,129 | t3_x6y4p | UUaffles*
You don't use the long s at the end of words. | 2 | null |
theroflwaffle | t1_c5q7wn5 | WritingPrompts | c5q868j | 1,344,466,173 | t3_xwio1 | I like this. I find it quite beautiful in a simplistic kind of way actualy | 3 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xo6tl | WritingPrompts | c5q87ee | 1,344,466,291 | t3_xo6tl | Curiosity
Hangs forever by a thread
Then at last: touchdown. | 2 | null |
wannabe-et | t3_xvr6e | WritingPrompts | c5q888l | 1,344,466,376 | t3_xvr6e | Click.
Amanda sat alone in front of the TV, shell-shocked.
The VCR made more clicks, and automatically began rewinding the tape.
A tear fell from from Amanda's cheek.
Click. The rewinding stopped, and the VHS was automatically ejected.
As if she had been waiting for this cue the whole time, Amanda got up and placed the VHS in its case with trembling hands.
When the VHS was safely back into the box where it had been found, Amanda retreated back to the couch in front of the TV, where she did nothing but stare into the space directly in front of her.
He would be home any minute now.
"Hello!", he said cheerily, as he came in the front door.
"Hi!", Amanda replied, doing her best to sound normal, not quite managing it. The man popped his head into the living room.
"So what's for ---". The man stopped mid-sentence, eyes darting from her to the TV and back again.
The color on Amanda's face disappeared as she realized that he knew. His face turned red in anger.
Whatever happened next unfolded to the blue glow of a TV screen with the blinking text - "AV-2". | 2 | null |
Not_Bad_69 | t1_c5q5dp3 | WritingPrompts | c5q8cq1 | 1,344,466,835 | t3_x6y4p | 18 days old.
Not bad! | 13 | null |
SurvivorType | t1_c5q5cqj | WritingPrompts | c5q8cug | 1,344,466,846 | t3_xw41w | This truly moved me. It reminds me a story I recently wrote about a cat losing his human. Well done! | 3 | null |
crediblehulk83 | t1_c5q783b | WritingPrompts | c5q8epq | 1,344,467,035 | t3_x6y4p | w-what's taters, precious, what's taters? | 36 | null |
JJrodny | t1_c5jwapj | WritingPrompts | c5q8liv | 1,344,467,754 | t3_x6y4p | Replying to save this amazing story. | 2 | null |
mt12 | t3_xw3xk | WritingPrompts | c5q8lj9 | 1,344,467,755 | t3_xw3xk | Fuck Mars... I'm going to the moon. | 1 | null |
RetroTheft | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q8mfd | 1,344,467,851 | t3_xwio1 | Sunday morning, twins awake from fitful slumber with sweaty palms. Remembering dreams that found perch within their normally restful minds, they swap questioning then knowing glances, before climbing down from their bunks.
Looking outside together, they grip each other's hands tightly. Rain. During February. Highly unusual. Freak occurrence, perhaps, though unlikely. They both know which explanation makes sense.
Downstairs, their mother busies herself with making breakfast; doesn't hear them leave, quietly, through their window. They climb down quickly with practiced technique, dropping softly onto grass below.
"Should have been last Sunday," Lucas says.
Amelia nods. "Late again."
They move swiftly, rustling corn stalks around them, leaving muddy footprints, heading towards Olsen's clearing. Months have passed since last time they were there, since they said goodbye.
"Quieter than last time," Amelia says. "Must have been upgraded."
Finally, they reach Olsen's clearing. "Hello?" they offer together.
Aaand I'm stopping here because this is really goddamn hard. Also I have no idea where I'm going with this chain of events. | 2 | null |
jyhwei5070 | t1_c5q57o8 | WritingPrompts | c5q8nne | 1,344,467,985 | t3_x6y4p | Ella Minnow Pea. | 11 | null |
Porkpants81 | t3_xw1k6 | WritingPrompts | c5q8ntl | 1,344,468,002 | t3_xw1k6 | This is awesome...once my summer college work is finished up this week it will be fun to write and get some feedback.
| 2 | null |
magpiex | t3_xwq3j | WritingPrompts | c5q8o8r | 1,344,468,045 | t3_xwq3j | "Goodbye," the words flowed into the young girls ears, as she watched the voice take one step off the building. In a matter of seconds, the owner of the voice had vanished. A whimper left the girls slips as she propelled herself forward, tripping and stumbling. She fell into the railing, clutching onto it for dear life. She wanted to shield her eyes, to make it all a dream. To make it fake. But it didn't happen. As that single little girl watched her father fall, the world spun. She felt the vomit in her mouth as it hurled through her chest. As it left her mouth, she fell backwards slowly, the world spinning. Everything went dark, as she saw her father pass through her mind, smiling, like he once used to do. The words had more of an impact to that little girl laying across the building. Words that had been said so many times, but meant so little. | 6 | null |
jyhwei5070 | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5q8oc2 | 1,344,468,055 | t3_x6y4p | not sure if I'm a huge fan of your use of X, but I shall, grudgingly, allow it. | 1 | null |
Gneissisnice | t3_x6y4p | WritingPrompts | c5q8oxq | 1,344,468,121 | t3_x6y4p | Aaron dove out of the way, the dragon's fire missing him by mere inches. Bleeding heavily, Aaron drew his sword; he wasn't going to let this overgrown lizard get the best of him. Charging like a berserker, he thrust his sword into the beast's gut and sent a vicious burst of lightning through the blade; the dragon roared in anguish. Death was taking hold of the monstrous being, but still it fought with vigor. Eventually, the dragon could hold out no longer, and collapsed, its life extinguished.
For ten years, this beast had been the bane of Greenbrook, wreaking havoc on the little town. Greenbrook was a small village, its people fair and humble. How and why the dragon came was never known, but it didn't matter; what mattered was that the attacks had been getting worse, the beast growing bolder and more vicious by the day. In the end, no one would have expected little Aaron Cooper to be the one to slay the monster. "Just our little Aaron", the villagers would say, whenever travelers asked about the quiet child sitting alone by himself. "Kid's a strange lad, doesn't act like the rest of the kids" they'd say with a sigh, watching the other children play and frolic they were supposed to, not sit like a statue and stare into nothing
Little did the townfolk know that Aaron could see things that they could not. Monstrous serpents slithered sinuously, fairies danced in the air, mighty warriors fought phantoms battles as ghostly lightning ravaged the land around them. No one in the town could see these wonders. Only Aaron. Poor little Aaron had been born a sorcerer, with powerful magic ability. Sorcery was a rare talent, almost unheard of in Greenbrook. People mistrusted magic, and the increasingly frequent dragon attacks only worsened their attitude towards the mystical. Quiet little Aaron could see things that the people chose not to, and with this knowledge, he resolved to be the one to take down the dragon.
Respect. Such a thing is taken for granted, but in the eyes of the young boy, it was the most important thing in the world. That was what Aaron craved most: respect. Under the dark of night, he trained in secret, honing his skills in swordplay with mentors that none but him could talk to. "Very good", his spectral teachers had told him one night, "You are now ready to face the dragon". With great purpose, Aaron traveled to the dragon's lair and dispatched the foul beast, protecting the town that he loved, even if it did not love him back.
Xavier, the town-crier, woke the town with news of the boy's deeds. "Young Aaron has slew the dragon!" he cried, to the incredulous citizens of Greenbrook. Zero noise was made as town stared at the champion, who walked past the speechless throngs of people, and went to bed.
Sorry it's so late, just noticed this today. Never saw this subreddit before, it's really neat. And that was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be.
Edit: Fixed an inconsistency.
| 1 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5q2j09 | WritingPrompts | c5q8p04 | 1,344,468,127 | t3_x6y4p | [deleted] | 1 | null |
SurvivorType | t3_xs1b9 | WritingPrompts | c5q8pl1 | 1,344,468,191 | t3_xs1b9 | "You people! You just don't get it do ya? You just don't understand what is happening!"
"You think that's the Lieutenant? Well it's not! Don't you get it? He was the Lieutenant and now he's not! He's got one of those alien worms wrapped around his fucking brain stem. You know what that makes him?"
"DO YOU?"
"That makes him the ENEMY!"
"Now do you get it?"
"Hello?"
"LET ME OUT OF THIS CELL!"
"NOW!"
"You guys need me! Let me out of here and I can help! YOU NEED ME!"
"He's going to kill you! One by one he will come after you and he will kill you and you will DIE!"
"Guys?"
"Anyone?"
"Hello?"
"Great. Just fucking great! Game over man, game over." | 1 | null |
SurvivorType | t1_c5q8pl1 | WritingPrompts | c5q8q34 | 1,344,468,245 | t3_xs1b9 | Perhaps not what you intended but I have not been able to get this scene out of my head since seeing this prompt. =) | 1 | null |
comsciftw | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q8qdp | 1,344,468,273 | t3_xwio1 | Selecting different tactics than what Nigel previously knew, blue team's creative efforts were still less impressive than they would've liked. Side flanking strangely failed when their opponents were thoroughly bunkered deep down their caves. Instead, they have chosen scare tactics, followed with rapid close combat. However, Four green teammates were already gone, with only five remaining. Nigel counted seven downed blues.
"North!" Nick screams, just when fire spurts from behind some pillars. "Watch left tunnels!" Nigel replies. Just then, Mark rotates, seeing blues painting Marks chest blue. "Behind!" Nigel yells, just fast enough that Nick counters their charge, nabbing another blue. They head over near Mark's body. "Soon blue will succeed." reminisced Nigel towards Nick. "Soon." | 3 | null |
apintofplain | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q8qnf | 1,344,468,299 | t3_xwio1 | Sven wanted home comforts. Nightly dreams painted youthful lanes, teenage alleys, twenty-something streets, each warm, each filled with something lovely. Here, each avenue served notice that Sven wasn't where these memories were formed, where myriad good times seemed promised. They'd warned against this city, listing countless annoyances. None could keep Sven from coming. Inevitably enough, after eight weeks, every initial rationale appeared hollow. Nothing would have warmed that heart more than glimpsing something homely.
"Your window seat?" asked Mister Dong, restauranteur extraordinaire.
"Brilliant," said Sven, summoning some feigned enthusiasm.
"Your usual?"
"Sounds great."
Mister Dong strode comically through swinging doors, raining booming insults down upon sweaty chefs. Re-emerging some moments later, obsequiousness replacing anger, Dong gracefully placed pork dumplings upon Sven's table.
"Television?" Dong asked.
Sven nodded between chews while Dong pressed "POWER". Nothing happened. Veins throbbing, Dong unleashed fury upon this innocent television, most likely sparing some clumsy waiter similar treatment later. Static. More static. Those punches were impressive, supporting Dong's (drunken) claims regarding past pugilistic glories. Sven felt lonelier than ever, slouched before damp dumplings, tyrannical Chinese fellow abusing electronic appliances... enough. Rising, Sven quickly paid, trudging outwards when suddenly, familiar voices spoke. "BORK BORK BORK!” Though Dong’s malfunctioning television continued flickering, Swedish Chef’s unmistakable cooking tips echoed throughout that restaurant. Momentarily, Sven felt salved. | 3 | null |
oblivioususerNAME | t1_c5q85ox | WritingPrompts | c5q8rvk | 1,344,468,433 | t3_xwio1 | Yes, got it the opposite way. Sorry, reading too fast. | 2 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5q4rti | WritingPrompts | c5q8sxp | 1,344,468,542 | t3_xw41w | Loved this. Well done. | 2 | null |
Theothodos | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q8tra | 1,344,468,636 | t3_xwio1 | Percival dreamed every night, dreams that made Percy wise.
Many opposed Percival's dreams, running towards lies,
Percival knew that hope would find them, stifling their cries,
Percival's dreams would conquer fear, they would open their eyes.
(That was hard) | 2 | null |
Porkpants81 | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q8tun | 1,344,468,646 | t3_xwio1 | Awakening suddenly without clear thought regarding today's rigorous tasks. Soldiers lazily raise their arms high above their clean shaven heads. Sunlight beams through tattered curtains highlighting floating dust particles. Robert arises first, brushes every tooth, combs every hair, mandatory inspections require perfection. Captain Jones sounds Reveille signaling that training once again already commenced. Today's task includes moving heavy rocks around. Robert sighs, wondering when everyone's hopelessness will turn into elation. Rocks, stones, boulders....each heavier than others, Robert's thoughts turn dark, twisted...murder. Escape possible only through evil deeds, kill Captain Jones! Robert sighs again looking skyward.... | 1 | null |
PinkieThingie | t1_c5q85t9 | WritingPrompts | c5q8twt | 1,344,468,652 | t3_x6y4p | ...Crap... | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xw3xk | WritingPrompts | c5q8wgo | 1,344,468,925 | t3_xw3xk | [deleted] | 2 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5q4hig | WritingPrompts | c5q8wj8 | 1,344,468,934 | t3_xvr6e | Thank you so much for the feedback. I am going to try to edit down the word count. | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q8wkl | 1,344,468,939 | t3_xwio1 | [deleted] | 31 | null |
Siouxsiesmith23 | t3_xwbd1 | WritingPrompts | c5q8x85 | 1,344,469,010 | t3_xwbd1 | I looked into those soft, pale eyes. Their not just any eyes. I'm not going to just be looking into them tonight and let them go in the morning. This one, is the one. The way the soft, strawberry blonde hair falls to the arch of the back, the way those lips bite down when they're nervous, the way the freckles frame the nose, those pale blue eyes. I don't look at the body, I look at the face. Whatever is down there, I could care less at this point. I focus on those perfect collar bones, not the length of the skirt. I love the velvety sound of that voice, the soft, adorable sneeze, that adorable way the eyelashes flutter when they're ready for a kiss. We met at an art gallery, aposed to my usual weekly bar visits. That night I was just there to support a friend, and you were there with an admiration of the exhibit. You're cultured, unlike those whore's who're just looking for another drink. I want to explore the curves of your body like a long winding country road. I will go ankle deep, and I will go past the sky just to please you. This is it, something I've longing for, but to terrified to admit. The L word, it's for you. Not lesbians, longboard, lager, lust, or lagoon. For the first time in a long time, I just want to hold that waist and kiss those perfect lips. This one's a keeper, not just a one-nighter. Cause darling, I'm in love with you.
A little short, sorry.I had to write this, because it was how my friend of the opposite gender roughly described falling in love. | 3 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5q3srb | WritingPrompts | c5q8xdv | 1,344,469,026 | t3_xvr6e | Great job!
As for feedback, why not try starting with formatting? Take some time and read the other posts here. You'll notice that people skip down a line when a new person is speaking. It gives the reader a chance to mentally pause and create the scene. | 4 | null |
semperscio | t1_c5q144r | WritingPrompts | c5q8y69 | 1,344,469,111 | t3_x6y4p | Xavier Hollander once told me... | 2 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwbd1 | WritingPrompts | c5q8yin | 1,344,469,148 | t3_xwbd1 | [deleted] | 1 | null |
beware_the_cagers | t1_c5q6o2i | WritingPrompts | c5q8z8k | 1,344,469,224 | t3_x6y4p | I disagree with you | 6 | null |
iLoveSethMacfarlane | t3_x6y4p | WritingPrompts | c5q90kb | 1,344,469,363 | t3_x6y4p | you are the 1% | 1 | null |
VoiceofKane | t1_c5q57o8 | WritingPrompts | c5q91hl | 1,344,469,458 | t3_x6y4p | Elemental Pea? | 4 | null |
Krypt0night | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q91ov | 1,344,469,480 | t3_xwio1 | Rapidly awakened.
Dreams that haunted night, fade away.
Sheets drenched, pillow damp.
First light.
Should tonight frighten; will tomorrow come?
Lover's embrace long lost.
Alone tonight, forevermore.
| 2 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q923u | 1,344,469,524 | t3_xwio1 | [deleted] | 1 | null |
GeneralCortex | t1_c5q63aa | WritingPrompts | c5q93le | 1,344,469,689 | t3_xwbd1 | Fuck that was a cool analogy!
>A cigarette is smoked once and then thrown away much like dignity, passion or success.
Bad ass. | 10 | null |
Gneissisnice | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q94c1 | 1,344,469,765 | t3_xwio1 | Rain falls heavily onto cobbled streets.
Thunder asks what lightning's doing.
Children cower beneath their sheets.
Stay inside, great storm's a-brewing.
Ok, I kinda cheated with "a-brewing", but I couldn't think of another way to word that last sentence. | 9 | null |
randizzle1219 | t1_c5q14sp | WritingPrompts | c5q965p | 1,344,469,967 | t3_x6y4p | Hwhy didn't you say you're? | 2 | null |
nowordforit | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q96dw | 1,344,469,994 | t3_xwio1 | I feel like I cheated.
Bodies everywhere. They're dead. Everyone's dead. What happened? Can't remember. Fragments. Just fragments. Shellshock. They call this shellshock. Children. There were children. Daughter, Susan. Jack, Susan's brother. Their mother, Lisa. Married Lisa after college. Lisa's dead. Jack, Susan, Lisa, everyone. Everyone's dead. | 8 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwq3j | WritingPrompts | c5q97mw | 1,344,470,133 | t3_xwq3j | [deleted] | 20 | null |
ghoststalking | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5q97zv | 1,344,470,172 | t3_xweet | This ended up far longer than I expected. Apologies. Haven't really written any pure prose in about 5 years, hopefully it's not as bad as I think.
*****
The holo displays around him flickered with every vibration that came through the hull. Some showed numbers, all falling swiftly. Others, formations of arrows, arranged in a three-dimensional array, with the blue steadily diminishing before a wave of red. Yet more were churning data, attempting to calculate a course that would preserve their circuitry and the lives of those they carried. The largest showed a projection of the *First Sword*, with a new indicator begging for attention with every stray las-bolt that pierced the protective bubble around it, finding a nest in the chinks of its rapidly failing armor.
His eyes moved languidly from display to display, and then came to rest on a timer. *I never should have authorized this program,* he though. *It serves only as a reminder of my errors*. The clock was ticking down, and the words "ESTIMATED TIME OF DESTRUCTION" flashed a translucent red beneath it.
He frowned at a stray rebel firehawk that had found its way into the middle of his fleet and was making a bee-line for the bridge, weapons flashing red, then green, then blue. The *Titans' Wrath* saw it, and with the precision only an AI could have, pierced it neatly through the cockpit with a ray of light. Its engines sputtered momentarily, and then its fuel tanks lost their integrity and engulfed it in a cloud of swirling flames. He knew he should derive some pleasure from the sight, but somehow, he could not.
As if reading his thoughts, the display to his left flickered and changed to a projection of the Eternal City, its alabaster towers ablaze and its streets filled with the newly dead. The latter did not faze him; the former, however, did manage to wrench a scowl from his tightly shut lips. The towers contained the results of a hundred years of quantum simulations, the majority of them bordering on breakthroughs into various fields of new technology. Wormhole bores, dark matter drives, telomere lengthening, all lost in the book burning the rebel leaders had styled as the Lazarus Movement after some myth of Old Earth.
"Ignorant bastards, every last one of them," he muttered. His fleet admiral glanced at him for a brief second, but knew better than to respond. He knew as well as the Emperor that there was nothing left to say.
His attention was wrenched away as the *Titans' Wrath* suddenly shone in a manner reminiscent of the death of Sol. *I have destroyed stars, even ended the cradle from which we were all born, and all it takes is a book and some dreams to bring me down,* he mused, bitterly. The *Titan's Wrath* had been the pinnacle of his empire's technological progress, armed with antimatter torpedoes and a fractal tessellation shield. Alone, it could bring ruin to a fully armed world sphere. That it would withstand the might of an entire galaxy, clearly, was too much to hope for.
Only four of his dreadnoughts remained in the orbit of Echelon V. *Mother* and *Rhaegon* were stranded to port, their drives shot and shields flickering. A swarm of rebel fighters was converging on them, like flies on a rotten carcass. Meanwhile, *Hades* and *Shiva* were locked in battle with a score of scrap-stars to starboard, the scrap-stars releasing firehawks and screamers as quick as the AIs could calculate firing solutions.
Scrap-stars were called as such because they seemed to grow with every conquest, taking on ruined pieces of destroyed ships and incorporating them into their design. Layer upon layer of trash, creating a machine that had the sole purpose of destruction. *Just like the rebels.*
His eyes came to rest once more on the timer in front of him. Two hours, 3 minutes, and 57 seconds remained, it told him. He sighed, his shoulders feeling suddenly heavier, his fatigue finally overcoming the quiet contempt that had been simmering behind his golden eyes. "With these, you shall be able to see as far as the galaxy stretches, sire," they had told him, prior to sticking them into his newly hollowed eye sockets. *They didn't very well help me see this, did they?* He allowed himself to smile at the thought, and made a mental note to have the doctors flayed, should he see them in the next life.
His finger moved to flip open the ornate switch on his armrest. He pressed it against the panel next to it, and heard the familiar *beep* that it had emitted the last twenty-odd times he had made the motions. Every time, something had stopped him, though he had known the outcome of the battle since the start. This time, something was different. He no longer felt that inhibition. The button sank smoothly, calmingly. His fleet admiral stiffened.
They both heard the high-pitch whine of the warp drive as it went beyond its limits, emitting antimatter that was too accelerated to stay within its containment shield. They both felt the vibrations as the core began to overload and react. They both saw the shields begin to light up around the *First Sword* as the loose energy bounced off of the inside.
Before the infant supernova hatching in the womb of the ship enveloped him, Emperor Arnaud Constance Veritas II, former regent of the Eternal Empire, had time to think one final though.
*I was their only hope, and they have slaughtered me. They know not the enemy that comes. They have slaughtered themselves.*
*Fools.*
*****
EDIT: Reading through this again, I realize I may not have emphasized the part where the main character is the antagonist, though I feel like it might perhaps be better to leave it more ambiguous in this case. In a classic story, the rebels/spacers/browncoats will pretty much always be the protagonists, so hopefully that carries across the subtext enough. | 8 | null |
LadyKiwi | t1_c5q8cug | WritingPrompts | c5q99wx | 1,344,470,382 | t3_xw41w | Thank you! | 1 | null |
gjbloom | t3_xu4f0 | WritingPrompts | c5q9a69 | 1,344,470,411 | t3_xu4f0 | Ley woke to the sight of a large picture window. Its view revealed an immaculate garden, obviously inspired by Versailles, extending to the limits of his vision. The window and garden weren't there when he went to sleep. "This has to be one of Sette's little pranks" he muttered, as he got up and turned to his right, where he always had a traditional continental breakfast with liters of thick, obsidian-colored coffee waiting. Instead of his usual simple linen-covered table and bistro chair, his eyes were greeted by the smiling face of Sette, sprawled across a swirling leopard chaise that appeared to have undulating muscles beneath its surface.
"Fuck, Sette! Where's my coffee? And what's with the dramatics? You know how delicate mornings are for me."
"Dear brother, while you were sleeping, something a good deal more valuable than your coffee went missing."
"Damn it, Sette, at this moment of the day, nothing could be more important." He wrinkled his face and, knowing this to be her "you're dead, you just don't know it yet" look, Ley resigned himself to another of her tutorials. A long, uncaffeinated tutorial. Fuck. "Okay, I'll bite. What's up? What's gone missing and is so important that you think you can get away with screwing up my carefully arranged morning rituals?"
"First a little review to see if you paid any attention in history class."
"Christ on a crumpet, Sette, why do you have to make everything so goddamn dramatic? Can't you just say what you came here to say and let us go back to our mutual agnostic apathy?"
"That's an entirely different subject, brother of mine, which I would be happy to elaborate for you, but the present matter is more urgent. I'll try it your way, but I bet the history lesson will still be needed. The urgent thing that has brought me here, the thing that has gone missing, is the private key for Orai Holdings."
"What? Who the fuck are they? And why should I care if they've lost their private key? And how can anyone lose a key, when it's probably etched in sapphire stored in a vault somewhere?"
"See? You haven't got a clue. That's why we always end up doing things my way."
"Just fuck you, Sette. Fuck you and the broom you rode in on, okay? You come in here, screw up my architecture, deprive me of coffee, then lay some bullshit on me about how some holding company has somehow managed to lose their private key, which is pretty much impossible, and nag me like the vindictive, tiresome pedant you've become, and for what?"
"Are we wealthy, brother?"
"Now you're just being annoying. But I can see you're not going away so I'll play along. Yes, Sette, we are a very wealthy family and have been for over a century. Any other obvious questions?"
"What makes us wealthy? Do we have a lot of money? Gold, Jewels?"
"We used to have a lot of money, some gold as insurance. Now we have licenses for IP."
"Ah, no more money, gold or jewels. What happened to it?"
"Its value evaporated when the first assemblers allowed anyone to produce a copy of any physical object, and allowed anyone to exponentially construct micro-miners that could extract any useful material from any hunk of solid matter in a matter of days. Great-grandpap had the foresight to convert all our physical wealth into IP the day MIT announced a successful demonstration of an assembler. Lesson over?"
"When physical objects no longer held value, what did?"
"I just said - information. Intellectual property. To have your home assembler build you a new house, you must download the plans. Plans that we own the rights to in roughly half of all cases."
"And how does owning these rights make us wealthy?"
"People exchange other rights for the rights to use our plans. Location rights, water rights, copyrights, rights to name their first-born, anything and everything, really, all negotiated by software"
"How do we use these rights?"
"We trade or lease them as needed to gain whatever we want. Such as your monumentally expensive gardening exercise this morning, just to cite a ready example."
"Ah, that. Thing is, I didn't do the garden. Or your morning coffee going missing. We don't know who was behind those items."
That got his attention. He was now fully awake. "What?!? Who the hell could get the location rights, leave alone the design and material rights to build that, that monstrosity outside? Next you'll tell me that you didn't do the window either?"
"Oh, I did the window. I wanted you to see this first thing when you woke. Funny how territorial you are, brother. You're playing along, nodding your head to get me to shut up and leave right up until you find out someone who isn't us has been diddling your bits."
| 1 | null |
lightball2000 | t1_c5q2p1g | WritingPrompts | c5q9aqy | 1,344,470,481 | t3_x6y4p | Actually, at the time W evolved U and V were not distinct letters. The classical latin alphabet possessed one letter, written either in the shape of a u or a v, that did double duty just like i served as both an i and a j (pronounced y). U and V didn't evolve from that common ancestor until the early modern era, centuries after W came into common usage. | 5 | null |
Rolten | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5q9atx | 1,344,470,488 | t3_x6y4p | Amazing :) | 1 | null |
Random_Fandom | t1_c5q8epq | WritingPrompts | c5q9dq2 | 1,344,470,811 | t3_x6y4p | *Annnnd...* now it's playing in my head. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gn4aHkOS2Q0
*e:* This one has a better quality: http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/taters | 20 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwbd1 | WritingPrompts | c5q9etl | 1,344,470,938 | t3_xwbd1 | [deleted] | 1 | null |
Gneissisnice | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5q9fso | 1,344,471,046 | t3_xweet | Ruby slippers. The last remnants of my dear sister, ignominiously done in by a flying house. Not even proper time to grieve for the loss of my sister, my best friend. That monster Glinda convinced the stupid farmgirl to take my sister's heirlooms - rightfully MINE - off of her still-cooling corpse. And those pathetic Munchkins cheer. My sister might not have been the kindest ruler, but she did what needed to be done. Those Munchkins know nothing of politics, nothing of administration, even nothing of survival. Without the stern guidance of my sister, the land will fall apart soon enough.
But enough of that. I need those slippers. The only thing left of my family. I will get them back, even if it means my death. It's a shame that girl had to get involved, she did nothing wrong; she's just a pawn of that tyrant Glinda. But I will get those slippers back if it's the last thing I do. Flying monkeys, to me!
(Sorry, I know Wicked's already been done, I thought I'd try a difference approach to the perspective of the Wicked Witch) | 7 | null |
202halffound | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5q9gmg | 1,344,471,141 | t3_xwio1 | Dark, dusty, damned. Oxygen combined with nitrogen itself whisked through dark streets, sluggishly. Smog, from pipes spewed out, constantly polluting pure atmosphere with black, arriving with some sort of medium grey, halfway between both colours.
Poor houses lined both sides, their walls stuck together, disallowing blank, empty space's existence. Poor beggars scattered across streets, some begging, others busking, lucky ones returning through wooded doors, haphazardly placed, blocking most weather from their homes.
Today, sounds from whirring engines, sputtering exhausts, wheels spinning fast that they appeared slow, came across King Street. Poor citizens looked through their shabby windows, peeked above their dusty bicycles, whatever they called home. Sleek black metal vechiles rode above, looking very incongruous. Someone from Rich Districts arrived into King Street's hellhole.
Silence took reign again. Dust that were flying from high speed spinning wheels settled again. Residents looked around, creating momentary calm. Then they shrugged, then went back, with their normal work.
((This is really hard -_-. I'm writing this at school though so I'll finish here.)) | 6 | null |
ICantRememberIt | t3_xwq3j | WritingPrompts | c5q9gwx | 1,344,471,172 | t3_xwq3j | I was nervous. I was put on the spot. It was my only chance to prove myself. I began to speak. I don't remember what I said, but I could hear what sounded like words leaving my mouth. I think "You're the one" may have escaped. I tried holding back my cliched feelings, I tried to bottle them up. But they all came out at once. Thank god it was just the two of us.
I kept speaking, and speaking, and speaking. It wouldn't end, I couldn't stop myself, even if I wanted to. Towards the end I found myself somewhat in control of my words, still guided by the torture they call love.
I said, "I'm sorry, I just needed to tell you."
She responded with her smile, "I love you too."
I don't remember what happened next. | 4 | null |
joshsalvi | t1_c5q5kdv | WritingPrompts | c5q9hx7 | 1,344,471,277 | t3_x6y4p | A lemon OP | 32 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xw1k6 | WritingPrompts | c5q9itc | 1,344,471,375 | t3_xw1k6 | Came here from the best-of post on the front page. I'm so glad I found this subreddit! I need to hone and polish my writing skills and this place seems to be the answer. Thank you! | 3 | null |
GlottostopFTW | t1_c5pzx55 | WritingPrompts | c5q9jso | 1,344,471,481 | t3_x6y4p | Check the brackets | -2 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xw3xk | WritingPrompts | c5q9klh | 1,344,471,564 | t3_xw3xk | Nightfall. It came and went with an enigmatic sense of urgency, much like the dark streets only occasionally illuminated by lamps. That darkness was completely ambiguous and so very hostile. A misanthropic Darwinist experiment that favored violent, primeval minds. I walked at a brisk pace through a dank path next to a channel. Paranoia crept up often, but I never faltered, for that may have been my undoing.
12 AM now, and I reached a recently built causeway on the east side that connected two cities together. It was a multi million dollar project, which baffled and angered me. On the cusp of violent crime sat Noxus, a city by the bay. That was where I lived, and it was one of the poorest places in the country. Across from Noxus, separated by a large channel, was Dynuis, a flourishing city which offered extravagant lifestyles for the wealthy and a sense of security that made castle walls seem obsolete.
When I was a child I had dreamed of living in Dynuis, and despite an increasing wealth gap it was now only an attainable 30 kilometers away. The meeting point was supposed to be here at the start of the bridge and my contact was already thirty minutes late, so I made a cell phone call.
He spoke before I could, "Plan's off. I've never seen the streets this empty, something's up. I think the feds might be watching."
I hung up the phone, knowing it wasn't smart to stay on the line. My adrenaline started to pick up, and I moved around to avoid my legs shaking. Any car that passed now seemed suspicious.
Turning around, I saw someone walking in my direction along the street. They wore a hooded sweatshirt and had a shaved, white head. It had undercover cop written all over it, and my grip tightened on the semi automatic pistol in my jacket.
As the man approached, however, he did not yell at me to get on my stomach, but instead relayed a message to me, "We want in on your operation."
I promptly responded while walking away, "I don't know about any operation, fuck off."
The man laughed and said, "You think I'm a cop?"
He pulled out a pistol of his own and shot me multiple times. As I helplessly lay on the cold hard pavement, rapidly dying, I saw the killer get into the passenger seat of my contact's vehicle and peel out. That was it, there was no one around, the night had caught up to me. | 1 | null |
ItsTheNuge | t1_c5q445w | WritingPrompts | c5q9l6f | 1,344,471,626 | t3_xw1k6 | Fahrenheit 451 | 3 | null |
SurvivorType | t1_c5q8rvk | WritingPrompts | c5q9n04 | 1,344,471,821 | t3_xwio1 | Let us just say you approached the challenge from the other way around. =) | 5 | null |
Arlolaw | t3_xw1k6 | WritingPrompts | c5q9oqq | 1,344,472,006 | t3_xw1k6 | I found this just now through r/bestof.
I was actually just thinking earlier today that I needed to look up writing prompts and start writing creatively again. Once again, reddit solves all my problems.
Also, no downvote button? I... it's so... beautiful... | 5 | null |
PrettyKittyPaws | t1_c5q85gz | WritingPrompts | c5q9q4g | 1,344,472,161 | t3_xw1k6 | I noticed that too. I think its incredibly conducive to a constructive environment. I sort of wish you couldn't downvote anything. | 3 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xee88 | WritingPrompts | c5q9rcr | 1,344,472,305 | t3_xee88 | [deleted] | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xee88 | WritingPrompts | c5q9t4u | 1,344,472,499 | t3_xee88 | [deleted] | 1 | null |
MrClimatize | t3_xw3xk | WritingPrompts | c5q9tly | 1,344,472,548 | t3_xw3xk | We stood at the top of that tower ready to jump, the moon shining a bright orange behind us.
“Can you do it?” I asked my son.
“Duh, stupid. I told you I could,” he whined.
I knew he was scared. I planned on pushing him off if he didn’t go himself. I had also been planning for him to do this by himself for a while now; everyone did it. I had jumped plenty of times before him, before he was even born, and I knew how hard it could be. It was extremely high and even more so considering we couldn’t see the ground because it was so dark. Maybe I should have picked a different time, but if he could jump now, he would have no problem jumping later. It’s easier in the daytime, much easier when we can actually see what we’re doing.
“Are you sure? You seem scared of the dark.”
“Yeah I can do it. I can do it…” He was very nervous. I saw him shaking and that last “I can do it” sounded much less like a confirmation and more of an encouragement to himself. I had to do it, I had to push him. I had to push him just as my mother had for me.
“Are you ready?” I asked one last time.
“Yes I can do this.”
“Okay, let’s count to three together.”
“One,” we said in unison.
“Two,” he was quiet
“thr-“ I pushed him before he could even finish saying the number. I heard his screams and knew he was gone. It was scary, but it had to be done. After a second his screams ceased.
“Mom, I did it!”
“I knew you could do it. We all do, it’s only a matter of time. Now come back to the nest so you can eat.”
I spit up his meal and told him to go to sleep. I rustled his feathers and left him to his dreams, happy that he took the nest step toward flying the coop.
| 1 | null |
MRobley | t3_xw1k6 | WritingPrompts | c5q9udq | 1,344,472,630 | t3_xw1k6 | When the moderators of /r/BestOf announced they would be only allowing submissions from non-default subreddits, they were met with quite a bit of negative responses from Redditors who liked not having to browse entire /r/AskReddit threads and such.
But I disagree. Had it not been for that restriction, the comment that reached /r/BestOf probably wouldn't have been seen by nearly as many people, and over 1,500 Redditors wouldn't have discovered this subreddit. | 7 | null |
RyanKinder | t1_c5q9oqq | WritingPrompts | c5q9usi | 1,344,472,678 | t3_xw1k6 | Welcome! Welcome! Yes, we aim to alleviate writers block, but also to foster creativity. If one can't think of a book, one can certainly collect a bunch of short stories they write and put out a book of those instead!
> Also, no downvote button? I... it's so... beautiful...
Yes, indeed it is. Granted there are simple ways around it - but there really is no need for a downvote button. The report button is just fine for nonconstructive posts - which can and would get removed. Other than that - any writing is considered 'constructive' and thus only worth of an upvote or people can move along. :) | 2 | null |
lokaaugunum | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5q9v5l | 1,344,472,719 | t3_x6y4p | Impressive :) | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5pzx55 | WritingPrompts | c5q9vr2 | 1,344,472,786 | t3_x6y4p | [deleted] | -2 | null |
Krzysz | t1_c5q8twt | WritingPrompts | c5q9w2s | 1,344,472,823 | t3_x6y4p | Haha, I didn't even know that rule about the 's' at the end | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5q8cq1 | WritingPrompts | c5q9w68 | 1,344,472,834 | t3_x6y4p | [deleted] | -2 | null |
MrClimatize | t3_xee88 | WritingPrompts | c5q9wx1 | 1,344,472,917 | t3_xee88 | I'm going to submit a link to Skydrive because it is too long to be put here, but it isn't more than a page and a half.
[Here](http://sdrv.ms/OQQf2y) | 1 | null |
pippys | t3_xwrp9 | WritingPrompts | c5q9xnl | 1,344,472,999 | t3_xwrp9 | She awoke from her nap and blinked. Rubbing her eyes, she looked up and faintly gasped.
The scene before her was unspeakable, horrific and demonic. A tear began to slide down her cheek, and as her thoughts started to race, her eyes grew wider in between the fastening heartbeats.
She clutched the grass in front of her, unsure of herself, trying to keep steady. She forced her eyes closed, and fell back onto the long cold grass and wished for death. | 4 | null |
cul_maith | t1_c5q9udq | WritingPrompts | c5q9xtf | 1,344,473,017 | t3_xw1k6 | Yeah, I never would have found this subreddit without that experiment. Those crafty bastards. | 3 | null |
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