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Parsonious | t3_x6y4p | WritingPrompts | c5q9ypi | 1,344,473,115 | t3_x6y4p | i know i'm late to this party but i wrote this for this post and some of it happened at some ironic times soo here it is (also first time posting long time reading, yay!)
______________________________________________________________
Alone again, he sat quietly in his rolling office chair. Brian had been contemplating doing this for quite a while now; he’d somehow managed to finally work up the balls to do it. Certainly no one would miss him as much as he wished they would. During his short 18 years on this planet he had accomplished little that was worth note to anyone but family and close friends. Even though he set everything up just a few moments before, he wanted to check again to make sure this would be as clean as possible. Friends liked to believe he was thoughtful and caring, but they never knew what was really going through his mind. God seemed to be looking out for him, his phone was ringing again. He answered the phone on its fourth ring. In a few short minutes, he learned the reason for the call. John “subtly” hinted that he wanted to borrow money for a new Xbox. Knowingly, almost jokingly, Brian assured John that he could have his money whenever he needed it. Letting the phone drop to the ground, Brian croaked out a laugh. Momentarily he hesitated, not quite reaching for his chosen peace. No, he wasn’t going to chicken out now. Over the years there was one thing that his friends actually learned about him, he finished what he started. Placing the wooden grips in his hands made him shiver ever so slightly. Quitting was not usually in his nature; however, he didn’t see this as quitting, not quite. Relief flooded through his body and mind as he slid the magazine into its well. Sweat poured down his arms, his grip was wet but firm. Time seemed to slow as he pulled and released the slide. Ugly little thing that it was, his Colt would do the job. Valor, value, vanity, his own traits as well as those of his ‘friends’; none of it would matter soon. When the barrel contacted his teeth, soft clicks chanted across the small room; he felt nothing beyond the desire now. Xanax, no Abilify, maybe Cymbalta, Brian could no longer remember the names of what he had ingested to stop the desire. Young as he was, he had long since lost track of these things; one thing he knew was the pressure the trigger needed. Zero hour had arrived, he squeezed one pound, two pounds…at four he would no longer suffer and he couldn’t wait. | 1 | null |
cul_maith | t3_xw1k6 | WritingPrompts | c5q9yux | 1,344,473,133 | t3_xw1k6 | Noob from the bestof crowd.
Hoping you can motivate me to write again! | 2 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5q4roi | WritingPrompts | c5q9zqg | 1,344,473,231 | t3_x6y4p | [deleted] | 4 | null |
RyanKinder | t1_c5q9yux | WritingPrompts | c5qa0ad | 1,344,473,297 | t3_xw1k6 | I hope we can, as well! Just view some of the prompts so far, go into the past if you wish! Or stick around for the newer ones. You rock for coming this far! :) | 2 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5qa19u | 1,344,473,403 | t3_xwio1 | [deleted] | 1 | null |
intawsomenary | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5qa3nu | 1,344,473,660 | t3_xwio1 | Fable bleating bleeding heart
Cowering over oceans start,
'Twould never surrender loves purity
Only wicked shrewd severity.
Darkened hour coming late
Feeding upon horror's plate.
Light lingering above mine head
Until mine heart gives, thus dead
None words come through mine mouth,
This ending sure went south
Because that heart became mine demise
'Twas given towards false love's rhymes.
Empty shell have become
Nevermore shall happiness overcome.
This poem's narrator fallen
Drowned underneath that abysmal ocean.
That fable bleating bleeding heart
Stoppeth under fiery hell's part,
Never thusly riseth towards light's harp. | 1 | null |
MrKrampus | t3_xwbd1 | WritingPrompts | c5qa40w | 1,344,473,697 | t3_xwbd1 | "Another day another dollar", I told myself as I hopped off the subway of peering eyes and creeping fingers. Maybe, just maybe today I'll be able to make it to the fourth floor without the melody of the beasts howling at my fullmoon.
I made my way down the hall to Mr. Baxstons office. Photo's of his prized horse lined the walls, intertwining themselves with trophies and whatever it is these rich bastards do with their money. I set my report down on the table, and made my way to the door. He turned around in his chair, waiting. I hear a buzz and the door is locked. "So, about that promotion you asked for last week..", he says, a devilish smile on his face. "What about it..," I reply, a hint of curious fear in my voice. He rises from his chair and approaches me, "I've been giving it some thought, do you tink you can handle that type of ...position?" He brandishes a riding crop, and the second stage interview begins. | 1 | null |
elementality22 | t3_xw1k6 | WritingPrompts | c5qa41o | 1,344,473,700 | t3_xw1k6 | Just monday night I was looking to write someting based on a prompt but google was giving me nothing but teacher exercises for students and then I saw the /r/bestof post linked here and my prayers were answered, thanks for being here! | 3 | null |
pippys | t3_xwq3j | WritingPrompts | c5qa4nt | 1,344,473,771 | t3_xwq3j | The rain was stronger now. The wind was fierce and growing by the minute. The ocean slammed against the rocks. Darkness began to fall.
Tiberius got on one knee and looked directly up at the angelic girl.
The rain swiftly stopped, the wind died instantly, the sea fell to a whimper and the sun shined directly through the dark and angry clouds to break over Tiberius.
"Will you marry me, Lucy?"
| 3 | null |
Letra5 | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qa4ui | 1,344,473,793 | t3_xweet | You think you're free? How sad, someone of such intellect believing in such bullshit. There is no freedom anywhere in this day. Gone are the times of privacy and secrecy amongst friends. Your entire life and dirty past are only a click away. Everything you like, feel, want, and need is monitored by companies trying to sell you their product. What you lust and crave is now their specialty. Things you never knew existed are now the most sought-after items. How can this be? Well, you pissed everything away in exchange for "comfort" and "ease of mind." Can't you see? It is all around us, this "secret life" of ours... never has humanity ever been so vulnerable to such little actions... you think you are free? You are bound to your computers, your cell phones, your consoles, that you do no stop and realize... every single thing you say, every single word you type, every click of your mouse is...feeding our knowledge. The only people free in this world are those with no technology. The tribesmen who decided to stay true to their nature and rule their lives with common sense. The law of the land, the law of nature. The law of centuries... I hate to quote such a cheesy popular phrase, but knowledge IS power. Power over the law, power over the competition, power over your own instinct...power over the world. The world doesn't end because you didn't know what you were doing! The world ends because you knew EXACTLY what you were doing. You think wars have a cause now? That they are fought over oil or land or even injustice? No, wars are fought over power... this power… when a dictator becomes too aggressive, we let it slide. When he kills his own people, why should we care? It's not our country.. but IF he chooses to go against the agenda? If He decides to get off the leash and run things his way? Then..THEN we must silence the dog.. How is a master to let his beasts run free? No, WE are the masters. WE have the power. WE control the governments, WE control the media, WE control the charities, the paramilitaries, the terorrists, the heroes...we control everything. Why? Because we know. We know what they are thinking, what they are going to do, how they will react.. We know their dreams, goals, aspirations, and most importantly, their fears... We know everything. And you?.. you GAVE US EVERYTHING!! YOU created the tools that are now used against you.. YOU brought forth this revolution turning your worlds upside down... your rise to glory is your fall to death... we? We were just watching.... | 2 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xw3xk | WritingPrompts | c5qa64h | 1,344,473,935 | t3_xw3xk | [deleted] | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qa6bo | 1,344,473,955 | t3_xweet | I sit here in my leather desk chair, staring out my enormous window from my pitch black office. I can see the entire city from this spot. I can see the fires rising from the chaos that I have created. Lightning streaks across the sky, illuminating shadows of people ravaging the streets below, believing they are all gods. Wait until they find out that they must listen to every command that I issue. For now, I will let them battle it out down there. I could care less if the weak survive, anyways. Regardless of who survives, everyone has gone mad, and it is all thanks to me. Finally, I have brought hell to Earth, and soon Lucifer will be here to take me by his side, for the atrocities that I have committed, and with my true father, I will rule the world with an iron fist.
Neither The Crimson Crusader nor the local police had knowledge that just twelve hours ago my henchmen, dressed as delivery drivers for a new local gas company, began to pump every station's supply throughout the city with a vapor that I had created in my lab downstairs. Within hours, over a quarter of the cars in the city were filled with it, and we needed only to wait for those people to make their drives back home. Soon, everyone in the city would be afflicted by it's powerful toxins, and that time has now come. Also, anyone that had left town with a gas tank full of our vapor would bring the same chaos to Hazelton's nearest neighbors. I would check the news to see what's happening in the cities around us, but it appears as though there isn't a working power source within ten miles of here.
There is movement behind me. Now I've got a shit-eating grin pasted onto my face. I turn around to meet my father, to have him take me home. I can hardly see anything in my office, but suddenly another flash of lightning lights up my surroundings, for less than a second. There is something on the floor, and I walk over slowly to get a better look at it.
It is a sign of some kind; three vertical lines, and one horizontal. I realize that there is pitchfork in front of me, burned into the carpet.
"You have come for me father! I am unworthy of your love, but will accept it. I will take myself under your wing, and together we shall - " Suddenly, I take a shot to the face.
I open my eyes after I hit my head on the ground, hard. It felt like a bag of bricks had just hit my face. I could smell blood coming from my nose. A sacrifice for my father. I begin to look up, but after hearing a voice, I lower my head again in a bow, to show respect.
"Damien Chulthon... To believe that anyone could love you after the crimes that you have committed is obnoxiously obsurd. And now you will pay for those crimes."
"But father, can I not come to be by your side, and together, we can reign over these lands?"
"I am not your father, I'm your worst fucking nightmare."
I am startled, and I look up. There, in front of me, is The Crimson Crusader's ugly mask, staring back at me, and I hardly am able to blink before he lands another blow to my face. His boots were extremely hard, steel-toed, that's for sure. My jaw is now numb, and I'm angry at myself for not realizing sooner the mistake I had made. But, how did The Crimson Crusader escape from the grasp of the vapors?
"How did you escape from the grasp of my vapors?"
"As soon as I had heard the first reports today of people running around screaming that the apocalypse was upon us, and the only way to survive was to stay out of their way, I knew that the most evil and brilliant scientist in the city must have been to blame." He exclaimed.
That smile comes across my face again.
"Unfortunately, I spent the entire day searching for Natasha Locke, only to find out that she is out of town on vacation. Either way, I knew something was up, and my mask successfully prevented any of your vapors from entering into my system."
Suddenly, my smile dissipates. Now, I'm really angry. I throw a fist, and The Crimson Crusader grabs it... I never was much of a fighter. I take another hit to the chest, this one slamming me against the nearest wall.
"Please, stop! There is a cure! It is downstairs in my laboratory! My access card is on my desk!"
"That doesn't matter now. I will get that cure out, but I've got something to finish right here, right now."
Another blow with those rock-like boots, this one square between my legs. I fall to the ground, and lay there crying.
"You really fucked up this time." The Crimson Crusader said, "and there will be no more second chances for you."
He grabs me by my jacket, and lifts me up. I scream out for mercy, but no one hears. He throws me into the window, and it cracks. One more time he grabs me, and I beg him to stop.
"Better luck in hell Damien." He said, before launching me one more time into the window. This time it broke, and I flew out, with nothing to break my fall but the street below. | 2 | null |
Fionabeeona | t1_c5pzx55 | WritingPrompts | c5qa6g6 | 1,344,473,972 | t3_x6y4p | No he didn't, he had the W in the brackets.
| -2 | null |
rscar77 | t1_c5q4h5h | WritingPrompts | c5qa7nu | 1,344,474,113 | t3_x6y4p | Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice! | 2 | null |
thanks_for_the_fish | t1_c5q4kqg | WritingPrompts | c5qa7xk | 1,344,474,144 | t3_x6y4p | Are you still going to be my [karma wingman](http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/ssm19/when_i_was_a_kid_my_older_sister_told_me_i_had_a/c4gpw3d)? | 4 | null |
hedup34 | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5qa8d6 | 1,344,474,192 | t3_x6y4p | Jesus you deserve more upvotes for this submission. I actually want to know the rest of the story. Are you an aspiring author? | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwrp9 | WritingPrompts | c5qa9an | 1,344,474,289 | t3_xwrp9 | An invasion, a zombie invasion, breaking out of nowhere. She frantically thought to herself, “I live in the middle of nowhere, why is this happening? Why now? Why!” Frustrated, and scared, she gave a loud scream, with no idea of how this came to be, she looked back at her home, all her memories, all her childhood, now invaded by zombies. She tried to get up, but she knew she didn't have the strength, thinking back at her young life, she gave up. She gave everything up, knowing that, she just sat there, in the mustard yellow grass, a cold breeze had flown through her silky, brunette, hair. | 3 | null |
LAboredom | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5qaaei | 1,344,474,412 | t3_x6y4p | When I was in 7th grade I was in the class for the talented and gifted kids or w/e your state calls it. Anyways, the teacher gave us an assignment. The assignment was to write a story without reusing a word, it had to be 2 paragraphs long. Every time a word was reused we lost 10 points, everyone failed. | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qaagq | 1,344,474,418 | t3_xweet | [deleted] | 3 | null |
Arlolaw | t1_c5q5cqj | WritingPrompts | c5qab0d | 1,344,474,482 | t3_xw41w | Oh man. Right in the feelings.
The paw on the hand at the end was what did it for me. Very nicely done. | 3 | null |
sNeAkY_HiPpO | t1_c5pzx55 | WritingPrompts | c5qae26 | 1,344,474,828 | t3_x6y4p | "Weightlessness cradled the man..." Sure does look like a W to me. | -1 | null |
poofacedlemur | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qae5t | 1,344,474,840 | t3_xweet | I never look in the mirror anymore. It's not that I'm ashamed of what I've done. I have never been one for remorse. I don't look, because she doesn't. It's not fair that I should be able to admire my Adonis-like physique while decomposition prevents her eyes from ever seeing again. I may be a murderer, but I'm not impolite. I realize full well that when I take a life, I take every opportunity for love. I steal every subsequent breath the person could have had. I make them devoid of thought, emotion, and warmth. With all I take from my victims, I might as well give them some sort of respect. By covering my mirror, I have paid all I feel I owe them.
She started this. We were happy! I guess I became too....complacent with our life together. I had always wondered what I would do if she left. I had assumed it would be like every time a woman had left me before. I'd cry for a few months and eventually "Oh, alright" my way back into another relationship.
This time, it was different. I went absolutely numb for 2 days. I sat, with no lights on, in my living room for those 48 hours without feeling. I didn't eat. I didn't sleep. After the 2 days were up, I could finally feel again. As the body-wide novacane dose faded, I was expecting tears. Instead, I was filled to the brim with an anger so fierce, I was scared to move, lest it consume me with fire.
I wanted to write more, but this is my first post to this subreddit and I am unsure of desired narrative lengths. | 2 | null |
HerzogsFace | t1_c5q5f2o | WritingPrompts | c5qaem5 | 1,344,474,885 | t3_xwbd1 | How very Kafkaesque. | 3 | null |
CaptainDinosaur | t1_c5q1msz | WritingPrompts | c5qafvh | 1,344,475,020 | t3_xvr6e | Wow, very good stuff, well executed concept. | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qagpk | 1,344,475,107 | t3_xweet | [deleted] | 2 | null |
cul_maith | t1_c5qa0ad | WritingPrompts | c5qalj5 | 1,344,475,611 | t3_xw1k6 | cheers! | 3 | null |
Schlick7 | t1_c5q1cyj | WritingPrompts | c5qalk9 | 1,344,475,614 | t3_x6y4p | say whip. Whip. say whip cream. wHHip cream. | 8 | null |
intawsomenary | t3_xwq3j | WritingPrompts | c5qam4w | 1,344,475,677 | t3_xwq3j | "GIVE ME YOUR SOCKS!" shouted the Spaniard to the heavily built man wearing nothing but a polo shirt, jeans, sandals, and a mask to cover his face as he is holding a gun to rob the shop 'Felix's maps, wears, and lanterns'. The Spaniard, James Thomas, the owner of Felix's, was short, fat, and bald, with a cataract left eye. "YOUR SOCKS!" shouted James's words again to the man with the gun. "But I am wearing no socks" stated the heavily built man with confusion in his voice. "If you do not give me socks, I will have no choice but to ask for your bra."
"But I am a man" stated the man.
"Makes no difference." after a pause James continued. "Fine then, if no bra than your stool."
To this the man just stood with utter stupidity, as he had no idea what was going.
"Alright", said James, "if no stool than a gun, you have a gun."
"I do have a gun"
"Give it"
"Why?"
"Because you have no socks, no bra, and no stool, which means gun."
"How?"
"It's written in your book, that you have on your left pocket."
To this the gun man put his hand into his left pocket, picked up the book that was in there, that he had no idea was in there, and the title was "If no socks, bra, or stool, than gun". The gun man fainted by sheer confusion and was later awakened as he was being arrested. | 3 | null |
akikaki | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5qammt | 1,344,475,731 | t3_x6y4p | ass bitch cock dick erection fuck gook hoe iodine, i give up im tryign to loo kcool for karma but im laying naked in my room in the middle of the night and i slightly cried early because i was in the school bathroom and over head my friends talking about how no1 likes me and i'm just used for my house.
That is all. | 0 | null |
pb-balla | t1_c5qammt | WritingPrompts | c5qasxh | 1,344,476,402 | t3_x6y4p | ...are you okay? | 6 | null |
Logged_In_Learning | t1_c5q16fq | WritingPrompts | c5qats7 | 1,344,476,490 | t3_x6y4p | He doesn't have to use an "x" word. I liked your citation lower down explaining the distinction between using and mentioning a thing, and you are completely right.
However, if you read the instructions in the original challenge post, and I quote:
> One of the exercises we used to do in improv class was called "The Alphabet Game." That's where you start a sentence beginning with the letter A. Then the next sentence begins with the letter B. So, today's prompt requires you to, essentially, do the alphabet - but I'll go a little easy on you and say that it can be in any form you want: A poem, short story, whatever. It could even be a single sentence as long as each word that follows the previous word is the next letter in the alphabet. (Or, the alphabet in reverse if you want to show off!)
you will see that he completely followed the rules (after he added the w). | 2 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5q8wkl | WritingPrompts | c5qaul5 | 1,344,476,572 | t3_xwio1 | [deleted] | 3 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5qats7 | WritingPrompts | c5qavsg | 1,344,476,698 | t3_x6y4p | Ah - I skimmed over the rules because when I have encountered this game before, it required that you use a word starting with that letter - therefore you can't just read a list with 26 items on it (which would be lame as hell).
But you're right - according to these rules, he is golden.
I didn't want to detract from his story though - even before his "W" addition, he did a very good job. | 2 | null |
xanthrax33 | t3_xw3xk | WritingPrompts | c5qazw0 | 1,344,477,130 | t3_xw3xk | The glow of the moon bathed her in its warmth... well not its warmth, the moon was never warm and the cool breeze sent chills up her spine. But the red glow made it almost *seem* like it should be warm. The hunters moon it was called... or was it the harvest moon? She shook her head attempting to clear it with the physical motion as if her mind was an ‘Etch A Sketch’.
Another tear trailed down her cheek refocusing her thoughts. No matter what her mind was focused on her feelings were locked on one single fact; you left. The days turned to weeks turned to months and still the tears rolled. It felt like only yesterday that you held her in your arms and yet so much time had passed. She leaned forwards a little, her hands still grasping the rail behind her as she glanced over the edge.
She trembled, shuffling her feet and closed her eyes thinking back to that day, the day you left. An argument, that was the last conversation we’d had and she didn’t even remember what it was about. She shivered. You left in the morning, the same as usual, just another day. You never came back and she’d never forgive you. An accident they’d called it.
Identifying your body, seeing you lay there so still, so pale, so... *lifeless*. She could never forget the feeling and never forgive you for having left her. Through all the months she had never... would never let go, until now.
Her fingers uncurled and she fell forwards, letting go of everything, the hurt the loneliness, the pain. Her tears evaporating as the wind whipped her face, her heart speeding in her chest, her one last thought turned to the moment our eyes met. You’d look beautiful in that dress, your hair tied up, the way you’d smiled at her, she fell for you in an instant. She fell into the dream as her body fell from the sky, to join you again after so long apart. | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5qb0nc | 1,344,477,209 | t3_xwio1 | >
> Heat blows from forge fires behind opening valves. Tyrone, stepping through them, looks around. Working critters stand around magnificent machines, breathing steam interleaved with their proper perspiration. „Nothing, nothing except stinking purulent bastards“, utters Hugh while wading through whatever black, smelly material lies around. „Naah, horrible idea going down here. Merely Clayton having wise ideas again.“
>
> Tyrone cannot claim feeling different. Bold Factory isn‘t shunned from small talk unfoundedly. Working down here within halls made from black-lacquered, bent metal ensures long work days, hard labor, illness, though nothing else. Nobody stays here longer than they must. Tyrone sighed.
>
> „Let‘s just find whatever Mertington‘s thugs tried hiding down here. Preferably before we‘re suffocating.“
>
> “What's that we're searching anyway? Clayton wasn't very specific about -”
>
> “Spare your breath. Everyone knows you're inattentive during Clayton's briefings. Won't criticize that, though. Well, apparently until Mertington staged some 'accident' freshman merchants tried selling artifacts. Since Clayton's interested, they're probably powerful.”
>
> “Mertington's Magic Theatre Group. Phew, artifacts. When everyone's that interested, they'll have lots of energy left. Like, 'running whole assembly halls months-long' much.”
>
> “Yeah, whatever. Let's inquire some workers.”
>
I wanted to go on, but it really is too exhaustive :(
EDIT: Corrected me being sneaky late at night and hiding 3-letter words in there. Tsh, tsh. Evil me. | 1 | null |
123choji | t1_c5q3l9k | WritingPrompts | c5qb102 | 1,344,477,247 | t3_xw1k6 | thirded. | 4 | null |
Iloveyouguy | t1_c5pzx55 | WritingPrompts | c5qb1i1 | 1,344,477,298 | t3_x6y4p | You forgot how much I love him more than you. | 1 | null |
akikaki | t1_c5qasxh | WritingPrompts | c5qb3ag | 1,344,477,484 | t3_x6y4p | I just realized I do not exist. There is no death because there is no life. When we 'die' it is simply a word for our atoms to stop moving a certain way. maggots well eat our energy thus those maggots well be eaten by other energies and we well be part of muscles,brains,etc
i have my hand on my heart because im scared any second i will stop functioning (serious) | -1 | null |
poofacedlemur | t3_xw41w | WritingPrompts | c5qb41e | 1,344,477,565 | t3_xw41w | I had them when I was 2. I still remember how terrified I was that day. I felt like life had just started for me, and yet I was already bringing other beings into the world. The fear melted away when I saw my baby boy for the first time. I actually became hysterically happy once his sister joined him. For eight weeks, Patches and Sarah were my world.
Eight weeks is hardly enough time to spend with your kittens. What made their departure worse was how unexpected it was. I guess I naively believed that my owner loved me enough to let me keep them. Even now, I resent him for taking them away. I mark his pillow and bring dead animals in the house. Sadly, that idiot wouldn't recognize a threat even if it hissed and latched onto his face.
I haven't enjoyed a birthday since my babies left. I only think about the significant parts of their lives that I'm missing. I'm not going to see their cakes slowly fill with candles year by year. Nor will I watch them get gangly and awkward. I miss them. I love them. But I will never see them again. | 1 | null |
Replies_With_GIFs | t1_c5q5wyz | WritingPrompts | c5qb4dx | 1,344,477,601 | t3_x6y4p | [Ah, the classic tale of a great Reddit comment turning into a pointless ](http://i.imgur.com/BaYfF.gif)
I liked this story. Yes, he forgot W, but he edited it back in well. | 10 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qb92w | 1,344,478,101 | t3_xweet | [deleted] | 2 | null |
xxBluexx | t1_c5pzx55 | WritingPrompts | c5qb96z | 1,344,478,117 | t3_x6y4p | [Weightlessness cradled the man as the years of dedication rolled off his shoulders and the faintest smile, the first in years, appeared on his face as he worked the knife.] | -3 | null |
LadyKiwi | t1_c5qab0d | WritingPrompts | c5qb9ym | 1,344,478,193 | t3_xw41w | Thank you! | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwrp9 | WritingPrompts | c5qbbm6 | 1,344,478,374 | t3_xwrp9 | *"Go, you good for nothin' piece of shit!"* the burly man bellowed from the doorway, a bottle of whisky swinging in his right hand and he shook his fist angrily. She took off, as fast as her dainty feet would send her off in the direction of nothingness. Tears streamed down her face as her tunic tore up the sides, her legs flying across the field. She collapsed in a tired heap, curling up and sobbing before looking up and glancing at what she used to call home. | 3 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwyj6 | WritingPrompts | c5qbdb0 | 1,344,478,556 | t3_xwyj6 | [deleted] | 2 | null |
thejacket | t3_xwbd1 | WritingPrompts | c5qbdlp | 1,344,478,587 | t3_xwbd1 | The horror consumes me.
As I looked down at the pencil thick device, I wondered how my life came to this. Just yesterday, my dreams ran wild with outrageous aspirations and childish endeavors.
Now, I sit breathless, waiting for the Devil to envelop me. I'm only sixteen for Christ's sake! I'm too young to raise a child. I'm too immature to be a parent.
I wish it was yesterday.
I wish I was still a child.
| 4 | null |
imprimatura | t1_c5qb3ag | WritingPrompts | c5qbfcy | 1,344,478,772 | t3_x6y4p | you high dude?
i think you'll find you're gonna be alright | 2 | null |
AgonistAgent | t1_c5q3jyz | WritingPrompts | c5qbfui | 1,344,478,826 | t3_xw1k6 | Welcome! I was wondering where all the new prompt responses came from. | 3 | null |
notwearinghockeypads | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5qbfut | 1,344,478,827 | t3_x6y4p | did anyone else just skip to X to see what word it was? little disappointed.. | 1 | null |
intawsomenary | t3_xjtyn | WritingPrompts | c5qbj3l | 1,344,479,166 | t3_xjtyn | G: I am confused.
H: How can you be possibly confused?
G: By that smudge.
H: What smudge? I do not see a smudge.
G: It is on this piece of paper.
H: But George, there is no smudge on that paper.
G: That is what is so confusing, I see the smudge but nobody else does.
H: Maybe you should have your eyes checked.
G: I can see perfectly well, hand me a book and I can read it easily.
H: Fine, here is a book, read it.
G: "The Humberdink Shriekster is a colossal creature of immense power, it is has the ability to become invisible at will and spawn illusions to confuse lesser beings, it also likes to create conflict between any religion. The Humberdink Shriekster was first thought to existed by the profit...." what kind of garbage is this!
H: It is the imagined folio, it is where the author, Kennedy Sphinx approached random people, asked them to make up a being or creature, and then he made a complete dictionary and short stories of those, isn't that fascinating.
G: Not particularly.
H: O come on! You must admit that it is at the very least interesting.
G: There is no doubt about that, maybe a bit crazy, but I could settle for interesting. In any case I believe I have displayed that my eyes are working properly.
H: Hmmmm.... than maybe your suffering under the effects of some recreational or medicinal drug.
G: All I had was cereal and a glass of orange juice this morning, and a sandwich with tea for lunch, the only drugs I have ever taken were Advil, Tylenol, caffeine, and some alcohol, that is it, nothing that should seriously temper with my mind.
H: Than maybe you are beginning to undergo the affects of a mental disease or disorder.
G: Are you suggesting that I am crazy or going to become crazy.
H: Going to.
G: How would I be able to deduce if I am?
H: Go to a psychologist.
G: I am not going to a psychologist.
H: Why not?
G: Because people will than think that I am crazy.
H: And there's the paranoia.
G: You are not a psychologist, so you are not able to tell if I am crazy or not.
H: Ah, so than it should not matter if you go to one for the people that may think you are crazy cannot, in actuality, diagnose that you are since most of them would not be a psychologist.
G: It does not the matter that they are not able to properly deduce if I am or not, it is the fact that they may think that I am.
H: And why would that matter?
G: It would matter because if I am thought to be crazy by a wide range of people it could effect my job, and how my friends see me. How would I end up in a relationship if I am thought as crazy?
H: My dear George, may I ask you a question?
G: Sure thing Harold.
H: Do you think your crazy.
G: I don't rightly know.
H: Just a yes or a no, would suffice.
G: I would then say no, I do not think myself crazy.
H: Well I really do not wish to say this to you but, everyone is crazy and the craziest of us are the ones who don't think themselves as crazy.
G: But... I... can't be crazy
H: And why not?
G: Because that would not make sense
H: Much like why you see the smudge and no one else does?
G: Yeah- I mean no- I mean I don't know.
H: George?
G: Yeah?
H: Would it help you to know that I actually did see the smudge on the paper, and lied just to tease you?
G: Yeah it would, it would also mean that you are a dick.
H: Fair enough, would it also help you to know that the Humberdink Shriekster does exist?
G: No, it would just mean that your crazy because such a thing like that does not possibly exist.
H: Then would it not help you then for me to let you know that I am simply an illusion created by the Humberdink Shriekster.
G: Hahaha, very funny Harold, nice try, but this prank is not going to work on me.
H: I'am a fade away now.
G: Harold, where did you go, this is not funny! Come back here!... Harold?... What's this on the ground?... A note... "God is a colossal being of immense power and can go invisible at will... signed Kennedy Sphinx" | 1 | null |
bobsamuel1337 | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5qbjxn | 1,344,479,255 | t3_x6y4p | Definitely read the prompt in Jaqen H'gar's voice :D | 2 | null |
theodrixx | t1_c5qaem5 | WritingPrompts | c5qbl7h | 1,344,479,392 | t3_xwbd1 | Yeah man, totally fucking Kafkaesque. | 2 | null |
Duke_Of_Ann_Arbor | t3_xl74p | WritingPrompts | c5qblik | 1,344,479,425 | t3_xl74p | Are we allowed to include an illustration with our piece? | 1 | null |
CamLopez | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qblnx | 1,344,479,440 | t3_xweet | I thought i had just figured everything out. I had just been named All State quarterback; my mom and dad just renewed their vows and my girlfriend is beautiful and nice. Until this nerdy kid showed up... He... He took my Girlfriend. That's what I was leaning on when my parents were gonna get divorced. That's what I was leaning on when i broke my wrist and he took that and my life fell apart. | 2 | null |
a_lot_of_fish | t1_c5qa7xk | WritingPrompts | c5qbmud | 1,344,479,564 | t3_x6y4p | Oh, forever and ever. | 3 | null |
imsuperawesomekid | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5qbnks | 1,344,479,647 | t3_x6y4p | i have fallen in love with you....that was awesome | 1 | null |
CamLopez | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5qbnkv | 1,344,479,647 | t3_xwio1 | That, That right there, almost killed your family.
Your life almost ended from that truck. You're very lucky standing here today | 1 | null |
RyanKinder | t1_c5qblik | WritingPrompts | c5qbnmx | 1,344,479,653 | t3_xl74p | If you wish to... however, the illustration(s) would require you to include the creature you have created. It can't be a creature someone else created (and drew) that you wrote a story around. Anything else is fair game. | 1 | null |
gulsado | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5qbok8 | 1,344,479,757 | t3_x6y4p | This legitimately reads like John Steinbeck. | 1 | null |
SWgeek10056 | t1_c5pzx55 | WritingPrompts | c5qbotm | 1,344,479,786 | t3_x6y4p | >Weightlessness cradled the man as the years of dedication rolled off his shoulders and the faintest smile, the first in years, appeared on his face as he worked the knife. | -2 | null |
fishgats | t3_xwyj6 | WritingPrompts | c5qbq96 | 1,344,479,939 | t3_xwyj6 | The lights dim, and the previews finally start. Jeff is one of what seems like hundreds of movie-goers packed into the midnight showing of "Transformers." He sits in the very back row, in between a large black woman and an older gentleman who smells like moth balls. Jeff's palms start sweating as the previews roll, so he slowly wipes them on his grey sweat pants. He is nervous, not because Transformers particularly excite him, but because tonight is the big one. Tonight, Jeff is going to ruin everyone's plans. His tiny penis chubs up with anticipation.
"Finally, it's starting," Jeff thinks to himself as the opening credits flash on the screen. He couldn't wait any longer. The anticipation was too much. Now's his chance.
Not one minute into the film, Jeff calmly stands up and yells, "FIRE!!! FIRE!!! EVERYONE GET OUT!!! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!! FIRE!!!" To Jeff's horror, no one is running. No one is panicking. No. They all just turn around in their seats and stare at Jeff like he's some kind of 300-pound virgin in a sweatsuit. It feels like a thousand eyes are burning through his soul. One guy in the front rows immediately yells, "Shut the fuck up back there! The movie's starting!" A little Asian woman a few seats down then points her finger at Jeff and chides, "Fire no funny mister. You go now."
Jeff never felt so embarrassed in his life. With his head hung low, he squeezes his way out of the packed row, waddles down the stairs, and exits the theater in tears. "What the fuck happened in there?" he asks himself on the way back to his car.
It was the perfect plan, really. Jeff hated everyone in this small rural town called Black Mountain. "Bunch of rednecks and phonies," he always told himself. This was supposed to be his night of revenge. Jeff was going to yell "FIRE!!!" and watch delightfully as panicked people trampled each other to escape the theater.
It was the perfect plan, or so Jeff thought. In actuality, there was one fundamental flaw in Jeff's plan: there was no fire.
Jeff never accounted for skepticism. He thought people were sheepish enough to freak out at the sound of a rando screaming "Fire." He failed to realize that it takes more than loud words to scare people these days. People need to see something before they believe it.
When Jeff yelled "Fire," no one believed him for a second because fire is fucking bright. If there really was a fire in that dark theater, people would notice the immense brightness of it, or at least smell smoke.
So Jeff gets into his '04 Kia Sorento, drives home, crawls in bed, and cries himself to sleep while visualizing his suicide. The next morning, however, he wakes up refreshed and energized. He dreamed of a new plan for revenge. A plan that would shock the world. A plan to solve all of Jeff's problems.
Next time, Jeff would set *himself* on fire in front of a crowded theater...and not utter a sound. | 4 | null |
ThatDudeWithoutKarma | t1_c5qbfcy | WritingPrompts | c5qbqgj | 1,344,479,964 | t3_x6y4p | Drugs were my immediate thought too... | 2 | null |
xanthrax33 | t3_xwzdd | WritingPrompts | c5qbqgz | 1,344,479,966 | t3_xwzdd | "Hey diddle diddle." He chuckled softly to himself, probably one of the most unusual passwords he'd had to use, but hey, who was he to judge? The safe opened up to reveal the contents. An antique fiddle was to be the final grab for the once infamous cat burglar.
He slung the case over his shoulder and made his way back out to the roof, tripping the alarm in the process. Shit. "How'd that happen?" Maybe he was getting old, that's why he'd stopped doing jobs a decade ago, stupid final job, there was always one last job. It didn't matter, this was his cash cow and he was getting away with it. He hit the edge of the building and jumped, aiming for the next. Looking down, an act which is usually warned against in such situations, he saw the reflection of the full moon in the wet alley floor below.
He hit the next buildings roof hard, at an awkward angle to protect the fiddle. A dog barked at him from an apartment nearby, a small yapping dog with an annoying yelping bark. He heard footsteps and turned to see two, no three heavies following over the roof top. He really was getting too old for this. He jumped down onto the balcony below and barged open the door into the apartment. A scream startled him as a rather attractive, dishy looking doll threw an ashtray at his head. Dodging, he tried to explain as two of the guys fell to the balcony behind him.
He grabbed at a large staff and swung out, the end smashing one against the side of the temple and knocking him down. He glanced up at the end of the staff and wondered momentarily why a girl would have a giant spoon in her living room before realising it was an oar. He swung at the other heavy, but he dodged and sent a jab at his stomach, he tried to block but it was a feint and the oar was sent flying from his hands by a second strike. A third jab hit him in the cheek, not a feint at all, and he fell back to the ground, he was definitely too old for this. He glanced up to see the girl pick up the oar and attempt to swing it wildly at the heavy. He stepped back dodging easily and she let out another scream as the last thug landed on her balcony, she turned and run. He couldn't blame her really, he thought as a foot sent his world to black. | 10 | null |
OneAngryFetus | t3_xw1k6 | WritingPrompts | c5qbtol | 1,344,480,309 | t3_xw1k6 | Hello. I was wondering if it is appropriate to post in this subreddit asking for paper topics. I.e. a writing assignment on a certain novel, etc. A reply would be much appreciated; I have asked before in another subreddit, but I received no replies. | 1 | null |
ThatDudeWithoutKarma | t1_c5q127k | WritingPrompts | c5qbty1 | 1,344,480,332 | t3_x6y4p | I love Reddit... | 6 | null |
Xeshema | t1_c5pzx55 | WritingPrompts | c5qbu6o | 1,344,480,357 | t3_x6y4p | W is in the brackets | -2 | null |
RyanKinder | t1_c5qbtol | WritingPrompts | c5qbvkp | 1,344,480,502 | t3_xw1k6 | A better subreddit for that would be /r/KeepWriting - however, they require you participate at least once in their community before making a post of your own. They're very helpful there for that sort of thing. | 3 | null |
TheDarkHeightRises | t3_xo6tl | WritingPrompts | c5qbvpz | 1,344,480,518 | t3_xo6tl | The lonely pint stood majestic and tall
Like a man erect with his chest out
Warm light from the bar casting its golden glow to the bottom of the glass
Embuing it with it's own hypnotic shade of amber
Tiny bubbles from seemingly nowhere make their way up
So many of them, all chattering like the bar patrons themselves
Coming together to form a sweet white bouquet at the top of the glass
Staring into this wonderous creation across from me was Julia
Julia and her heaving tits
To be so lucky as to have both of God's great masterpieces in my presence
Not many days like this are bound to come
Today is a good day
I down the pint and do the same with Julia
Today is a good day | 1 | null |
donaldtrumpcard | t3_xwio1 | WritingPrompts | c5qbwfq | 1,344,480,595 | t3_xwio1 | They never wondered where their children played. Police officers scold their negligence, after finding these youngsters throwing rocks into traffic. Didn't occur that they should feel responsible. They didn't understand police penalizing them just because their children misbehave.
Officer Toltsky walks back, thinking that these children could raise themselves better than their parents. | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5qbvkp | WritingPrompts | c5qbwyr | 1,344,480,652 | t3_xw1k6 | [deleted] | 1 | null |
CasualPumpkins | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qbylc | 1,344,480,821 | t3_xweet | He became the ugly creature, a bitter shell of man I once called my brother. I remember when we were young children we would hunt for shells on the lonely, abandoned beach near our home near Cape Cod. Those were simple times and I held onto those memories dearly for as long as I could. I tried to hold on to the memory of our bright happy childhood. But those memories were replaced by those of my own bitter jealousy as he soon stole everything I held dear, whether he realized it or not. He stole my love, my scholarship, and finally the adoration of our parents. I hated him. I hated him with a sickening passion. It ignited a dark flame in my now blackened heart. There was only one way I had to quench this awful, all-consuming fire of hate that raged within me. I had to kill my own brother. | 3 | null |
jas0nb | t1_c5q3ga2 | WritingPrompts | c5qc0qu | 1,344,481,052 | t3_x6y4p | He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready? | 2 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xwrp9 | WritingPrompts | c5qc0y2 | 1,344,481,072 | t3_xwrp9 | Her knees gave way under her and she collapsed where she stood.
Laying in the field, her heart thudded angrily against her chest. She felt frightened, bewildered, and sad. Her darkest nightmare had come true.
He had blanched when she finally told him, not more than an hour ago, in the orchard under their favorite apple tree. He was silent for a while, while she gnawed her lips and anxiously searched his face for clues as to how he felt. He stuttered out an apologetic answer, something clichéd about friendship and love. As he talked, she felt her heartbeat weaken and her stomach drop. He said maybe it would be better if they didn't meet anymore. They stood in silence a while, until on an impulse, she choked out an apology, turned tail and fled the orchard.
She stumbled blindly through wood and across field, unscathed by branch or bramble, because she knew the paths so well. She had traversed them so often with him.
Now, she found herself laying in his field. His family's farmhouse was straight ahead. If she could only catch one last glimpse of his auburn hair as he worked tilling the field, hear his sparkling laughter one last time.
If only he loved her back. | 3 | null |
poofacedlemur | t3_xw3xk | WritingPrompts | c5qc25p | 1,344,481,205 | t3_xw3xk | I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who finds Paris' slogan full of shit. "City of Love?" Who are they kidding? I am looking at a homeless man being passed up by every woman, child, businessman, tourist, punk-rocker, and loony. Then again, there is what I would assume to be a young couple looking rather romantic as they suck faces. I'm not quite sure, seeing as they're so close together that they seem to have become one amorphous creature. I guess the slogan of Paris isn't entirely false, but merely incomplete. "City of romantic love?" Yes, I think so. Plus, I'm pretty sure "City of brotherly love" is taken.
I sit and compare the moaning, smooching blob of wriggling flesh to the homeless man. Eventually, I lose interest in the couple and study the vagabond more intensely. He's wearing a pea green coat that may or may not have started that way, with a pair of ripped jeans and holey sneakers. While he looks like any normal hobo, I can't help but think there is something unique about this man standing on the Champs Élysées, palm facing upward. What strikes me odd is that this man, being ignored by all who saunter by, is smiling. Being the curious person I am, I can't help but approach him. "Why is it that no matter how little people care, you are still beaming as if you'd just opened your first Christmas present?"
Without saying a word, he motions for me to follow him. We walk in silence, our footsteps clicking in the still night air to fill the void of sound. He sits me down on a bench near the Eiffel Tower, after our several hour promenade, and startles me by being the first to speak since my quasi-introduction. "Look," he says in an indiscernible accent.
"At what? The tower? I've seen it thousands of times! Why wou-." He cuts me off with a firm shake of his head. I can tell he's frustrated with our language barrier. Eventually, he finds the word he's looking for.
"No....see."
For the first time in years, I look up to the top of the tower and stare intently for several moments.
"Beautiful," he says.
In that instant, staring at the moon rising behind the twisted metal, I know why he smiles. While the people in this city are ugly in their personality and behavior, the world itself is still a beautiful place. I guess I just forgot to look around. | 5 | null |
donaldtrumpcard | t3_xwyz2 | WritingPrompts | c5qc28q | 1,344,481,215 | t3_xwyz2 | The human male, in the hopes of attracting the attention of potential mates, constructs a courtship nest to draw them in. This particular nest is surrounded by a circle of contained fires. Anthropologists believe that this feature serves the dual purpose of advertising the fitness of its creator even in the night, as well as warding off predators. | 9 | null |
ac3y | t1_c5q2807 | WritingPrompts | c5qc442 | 1,344,481,411 | t3_x6y4p | ftaires! we haue found ftaires! | 0 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xo6tl | WritingPrompts | c5qc780 | 1,344,481,750 | t3_xo6tl | [deleted] | 1 | null |
Medium_Well_Soyuz_1 | t3_xwyz2 | WritingPrompts | c5qc7ow | 1,344,481,801 | t3_xwyz2 | Everything was ready. The sun's rays slowly slipped below the blue ocean horizon. The table was ornately decorated, with napkins expertly folded and a beautiful candle centerpiece. Four torches surrounded the table, along with many more candles. The luminescent glow shone into the quickly developing night.
A man put the finishing touches on his masterfully crafted scene before sitting down and waiting. This beach was quite a romantic spot. The condo's owner had been nice enough to grant him a secluded section on the beach for the evening, free of charge. He looked out over the now darkening water.
Minutes soon passed into hours. Periodically, the man would hear a noise, thinking it was her, but it always turned out to be nothing. The man wept into the bouquet of flowers he had been holding for her. Yet still, he held out hope that she would come.
As day broke across the sea, he gave up those last shreds of hope. Dejected, he carried his flowers away. The beautiful scene he had so meticulously created in the very spot where they had met all those years ago was all for nothing.
Seeing him walk away, the recently hired concierge spoke, rather heartbroken to the condo's owner. "All of that work and those wasted hours, and she still didn't come. The poor guy must really have done something awful to deserve this."
"I didn't expect her to come," replied the manager. The concierge seemed rather taken aback by this.
"Really? Have you lost all your hope in humanity," she asked.
He answered, "Well, she has been dead for seven years now. When she died, something snapped, you know, mentally. He builds this scene every year, and waits for her to come. I always let him use this space. I've never had the heart to tell him the news. The grief of the realization that she's dead would probably kill him." | 17 | null |
DeanEarle | t3_xo6tl | WritingPrompts | c5qc9bf | 1,344,481,964 | t3_xo6tl | Had to write this for english last semester, but the literary technique requirements kind of messed with me. Either way, here it is.
My First Day as a Pokemon Trainer!
This is a story from the pokemon world
of pokemon boys and pokemon girls
this is a story about me, Dean
all I wanted was to live 'the pokemon dream'
The night before my tenth birthday I stayed up too late
So when I awoke I ran to the gate
There I stood before Professor Oaks lab, wondering which pokemon I soon would nab!
Charmander, Squirtle, Bulbasaur? But when I asked Oak he said there were no more
I put my head down and walked to the door.
But as I was leaving and heard him say
"Dean, I do have one more pokemon left today"
He cautioned me saying" Raising this pokemon is not an easy task,
you'd be much better off starting with a Rapiddash"
I turned around excited, my eyes had a gleam
"Which pokemon will be the first on my team!"
"This is a pikachu, it's yellow and round, though it has an anger, that is quite profound"
"I'll take him!" I said, in a really big rush,
soon I found out his shock was too much.
We started our way to Viridian, you should have heard
the squak of a pokemon, Spearow, The bird!
I was excited and threw a pokeball
little did I know that was my downfall
It flew away and at the speed of light
Then I saw there were thirty spearows, ready to fight.
Me and my pikachu were in deep trouble
So we stole misty's bike making it double
Needless to say she was a little upset
I looked down at the ground and noticed it was wet
Yes, it was raining, just my luck
The next thing I knew pikachu's thunder struck!
The bolt went through the air like a jet plane
I felt sort of bad when I heard the spearows cry in pain
But this wasn't the time for spearows or for fame
this was the time for getting out of the rain
so I pedaled, pushed and I also did pump
I managed to take the bike off a pretty sweet jump
But upon landing I heard a big bump!
The tire was flat, but I didn't care
I ran me and pikachu the rest of the way there
When I got to the pokemon center I was in shock
Pikachu could die before we even got to face Brock
I knew Pickachu wasn't a toy
But why would they trust such a pokemon with only a boy
I couldn't tell explain the feeling when I saw nurse Joy
There was my pikachu, healthy and new
He let out a soft pikachu coo
Understanding the pain that it had been through
I knew Exactly just what I'd do
"We'll be the very best one day, me and you
It won't be long before we reach the Indigo Plateau"
The beginning wasn't easy, but I'm proud to say,
me and my pikachu are best friends to this day.
Edit: Attempted formatting.
| 2 | null |
teh_shubox | t1_c5jsa7s | WritingPrompts | c5qc9bi | 1,344,481,965 | t3_x6y4p | Looked forward to see how you would use X | 1 | null |
DrSleeper | t3_xwbd1 | WritingPrompts | c5qc9te | 1,344,482,017 | t3_xwbd1 | I don't love my job. I don't hate it either. I just do it.
I'm an accountant. I work as an accountant. I am more. Well, there's more to me. I don't know.
I'm single, and get reminded of that fact at least daily by an overbearing, well meaning mother. She'll bring it up as a joke, but its really a trojan horse, filled with single men she knows from here, there and nowhere. "Sheila, I'll love you if you're a lesbian, just tell me. But if you're not you have to find a man, no fun being a woman without having a man to..." I cut her off. She sometimes gets so inappropriate. I blame Sex And The City, a show I used to hate until I realized how much my mom wanted to be Samantha.
Then there's my son. He's the light of my life and the weight on my shoulders. He keeps me afloat yet pulls me under. I'd be nothing without him.
Don't know how to make the line thing everyone makes to separate story from authors message so I just pressed enter a lot. I'd like to write some more on this maybe, it's a good exercise. I so often make all women have menstrual cramps or be pregnant or think about their weight. They all become a boring cliché. I actively try to correct this but my penis forbids it. | 3 | null |
DrSleeper | t1_c5qc9te | WritingPrompts | c5qca3s | 1,344,482,046 | t3_xwbd1 | Ok the enter thing didn't work but I'm sure people can make out whats fiction and what are just notes :)
| 2 | null |
[deleted] | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qca5w | 1,344,482,053 | t3_xweet | Dear Diary,
I've done it! I am finally the headmistress. Now I can set about teaching these precious, impressionable, unruly children how to behave. I promise myself that I will not shrink from punishing them, because it is all for their own good, and the good of the wizarding world.
My office is quite cozy, however, it could use some brightening up, and a touch of color. Perhaps then the students will not be so afraid of me when I am punishing them.
Kisses,
Dolores
To do:
• Buy decorative plates for office, preferably pink with kittens.
• Find a new, *sharper* quill for young Harry. | 9 | null |
PhishPhishPhish | t1_c5q4kqg | WritingPrompts | c5qcafz | 1,344,482,082 | t3_x6y4p | Close enough? | 1 | null |
sandbaths | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qccah | 1,344,482,277 | t3_xweet | The General (for this is the name he called himself) watched the blurry lights of the yacht drift through the night's sea-fog, barely visible through its inky and invisible shadow, and hoped. At his feet lay his last kill, its form sprawled shapelessly in the thick underbrush, staining it with blood and viscera that made the darkness below it blacker than the black of night. It hardly looked dangerous, truly; he had begun to think, lately, that his entire enterprise, all his life's work since the fall of Moscow, had been in vain. What was the point of hunting when the prey gave no challenge, no challenge at all, to the predator? He turned back to the sea but the lights had already dimmed from sight and he sighed, granting himself a degree of disappointment. He thought of the lights in the false harbor he had spent so much time maintaining. Perhaps, when the salt spray burned them out this time, he would let them stay dark. Perhaps. He took the toe of his fine horsehide boot and pushed the body over the edge of the short cliff, sending it tumbling down into the scrub below. The jaguars would have eaten it if he had not already hunted them all from the island.
Later, he dined. His Cossack, the last of the brigade remaining, had turned into a superlative cook and drink-mixer, despite his distinct lack of mental acuity. The hunt, what a disappointment, had turned his appetite and he only ate borscht, that most comforting of the motherland's ancient recipes. A strong wine in a crystal bell rested precisely to one corner of the wide, shallow bowl of beet soup, precisely half-consumed. The General was a man of sharp taste and strong restraint in all things, even his one and most beloved of pastimes. A knock sounded at the front door, an oaken sound from a distance. His heart leapt in his chest and he looked sharply at Ivan. The Cossack glanced back, dumb rage burning in his pig eyes, and unsheathed a long and deadly-looking hunting revolver from its black leather holster on his hip. He walked out of the dining room and the General could hear his huge, heavy footsteps slowly descending the stairs to the foyer. The door creaked open and suddenly another voice was speaking, although the General could not hear what it was saying. He stayed in his chair for a second, flexing his long and calloused fingers on the velvet armrests, before pushing it back and rising. He smoothed the creases in his evening suit, he went to greet his unexpected guest.
As he forced himself to walk casually down the carpeted stair, he thought he could hear the quiet click of Ivan losing his patience. He heard the voice more clearly now, a man's voice, preparing to utter something in desperate panic. The General swept into the foyer and, although Ivan lowered his gun instantly and snapped into a perfect Cossack's salute, a gesture that normally would warm the General's hard heart, he hardly saw it. Standing at the door, his clothes damp and stiff with seawater, looking exhausted and yet somehow still a challenge, was one of the few men that the General could truthfully say he respected. The man was a member of that fraternity addicted to the blood-drink of the hunt, much like the General, although without having discovered the truly sweet liqueur that the General now subsisted on. The General smiled now at the surprised and impressed expression that now rose in the other hunter's expression and thought that perhaps he had been too hasty in giving up his most favored game.
He had his guest change clothes and come eat with him, maintaining his composure perfectly, although one toe tapped excitedly under the table. They spoke at length as the hunter enjoyed one of Ivan's excellent cocktails and the General savored the confusion and fright that slowly grew on his new companion's face. For all the General admired his guest's skill with the long-rifle and knife, the man was as dull as all of the other Americans that the General had met in his travels. He was a man of staid philosophy torn from his country's stale embrace of white-collared preachers and youthful tradition, his small passions backlit by the bourgeois instinct to buckle under trauma. The war had snapped the trunk of the savage tree that rooted Sanger Rainsford's soul. The General suddenly knew what would cure him of his ennui, of the black dog of disappointment that stalked him. He decided that he would run the man down and skin him like a boar. The General smiled and toasted Rainsford from across the table. In his mind's eye, he could see lights in a harbor, distant but closing.
| 2 | null |
[deleted] | t3_x6y4p | WritingPrompts | c5qcd2o | 1,344,482,363 | t3_x6y4p | [deleted] | 1 | null |
[deleted] | t3_x6y4p | WritingPrompts | c5qcd8e | 1,344,482,379 | t3_x6y4p | [deleted] | 1 | null |
dont_stop_me_smee | t1_c5q5dp3 | WritingPrompts | c5qcdi3 | 1,344,482,408 | t3_x6y4p | Three blind fish? | 5 | null |
necrambo | t1_c5q9dq2 | WritingPrompts | c5qcdlx | 1,344,482,419 | t3_x6y4p | still funny after all these years :) | 11 | null |
Thurokiir | t3_x6y4p | WritingPrompts | c5qcds7 | 1,344,482,438 | t3_x6y4p | Ah, see this sort of thing isn't very hard, my friend Paul and I did this for improv a lot.
Banishing the fear of the alphabet is the crux of the exercise, whilst maintaining story continuity. Cannily, our friends took advantage of us in our singular talent because if there's anything theater majors love to see its meteoric success or spectacular failure. Demonstrating our prowess our director decided to feature us one night, normally this is ok it happens all the time.
Enter - Opening night. Featuring: two guys that didn't like following rules for word exercises before structures training. Guys that, frankly would have given anything to be anywhere else. However Paul (My structure-mate) and myself were nothing if not good sports so we charged on... Into a performance that no one, not even ourselves expected.
Just imagine, two guys that mostly liked drinking, reading and performing now in front of a good couple hundred people in a structure that neither of them had practiced. Keep in mind, we weren't newbies to improv. Limelight was something both Paul and I sought and we had been doing every type of improv structure possible for years at this point. Marinating in my own sweat I met Pauls eyes across the stage in the wings and we heard our intro, Show time. Now this part was odd, our MC walked by and he gave me a nod and a "break a leg" that never happened.
Only two people were on the stage paid company by two chairs. Paul bellowed out to the audience using the diaphragm that his Polish ancestors gave him for a suggestion for a topic. "Queers!" came from the crowd, which was standard. Retardedly drunk people think they're hilarious, always. "Science" came another "Science it is" yelled out Paul. Timing was everything, we sat down in our chairs and rattled off sentences praying that it made SOME kind of sense. Understanding us was important so the timing we did have made left field statements seem pertinent, even if they were not at all relevant.
Vainly we pushed on through the letters, howls of laughter as we worked words like "Bunsen Burner, Fermenting, Eye washer" into incredibly malformed sentences, vain because the end of the alphabet was coming; the make or break point of our little game that had gone too far. With wild abandon we attacked the letters until I hit a blank. "Xenophobes hate the metric system, didn't you know?" Came out, dutifully giving the question back to Paul. Youth slipped by as I waited for a response, or laughter either or anything would have been good at that point, anything but silence. "Zeitgeist of our time I'm afraid" Paul responded Boooooofffffff I broke character right then and there "ARE YOU JOKING ME?!" the crowd erupted in laughter, crying and falling over, our castmates rushed the stage and we ended the night there - no point carrying on. | 1 | null |
FrankiePancakes | t1_c5q8nne | WritingPrompts | c5qcfk8 | 1,344,482,629 | t3_x6y4p | My brother thought for *years* there were two *n*'s in the alphabet. The regular one, and then W, X, Y, N, Z. | 11 | null |
DrDildont | t3_x6y4p | WritingPrompts | c5qcg52 | 1,344,482,688 | t3_x6y4p | I know the contest is over, but I don't care about that. I'm not a writer by trade, I saw this and decided to try it for the hell of it. Hope some of you guys see this and enjoy it for what it's worth.
All around him, the smell of death was nearly overwhelming. Bodies, by the dozens, lay strewn across the street. Crows were pecking at several of them. Death was real, and death was here. Earlier, Randall thought it was just a dream. Fighting the urge to just quit and give up, he knew he had to get away. Getting away from this area was going to be hard. Hell had seemingly broken loose, not just here, but everywhere else. In the distance, he could hear screams, gunshots, and occasional explosions. Just as he decided which direction he would take, he could see another horde coming towards him. Kill or be killed was the way the world had quickly turned. Living was in Randall's number one interest at the moment, so he knew he had to act quickly. Moving out of the street, he slunk alongside the business buildings, away from the horde. Not even two blocks down the street, he saw a building that wasn't boarded up. Opening the door quickly, he stepped inside. Peering into the dark, he could make out what looked to be a few moving figures. Quietly, he ran to the left side of the office, away from the figures. Realizing this was a dead-end, he quickly ran back to the front door in which he came. Stepping back outside into the sunlight, he saw the horde was no more than 15 feet away from him. These zombies were relentless and would never give up. Underneath the hot August sun, Randall made a split second decision that would end up being his last. Veering away from these undead, he bee-lined it in the other direction. While trying to make a run for it, his foot hit the curb and he fell, hard. X-rays weren't necessary for the compound fracture Randall was now looking at above his right ankle. Yelling in agony, shock, and disbelief, he looked at the horde one final time, now just feet from him. Zeroing in on Randall, he now realized this was the end to his own story. | 1 | null |
imprimatura | t1_c5qbqgj | WritingPrompts | c5qcgmw | 1,344,482,741 | t3_x6y4p | and not the friendly kind of drugs | 2 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5q57dc | WritingPrompts | c5qchwh | 1,344,482,873 | t3_x6y4p | yeah, i saw all the bullshit about plants and expected xylem | 2 | null |
Gneissisnice | t1_c5q6fvn | WritingPrompts | c5qcj3u | 1,344,482,998 | t3_x6y4p | I commend your effort. | 2 | null |
appledocq | t1_c5qc25p | WritingPrompts | c5qcj9i | 1,344,483,016 | t3_xw3xk | This is awesome | 1 | null |
ymahaguy3388 | t1_c5q0sjl | WritingPrompts | c5qcjt0 | 1,344,483,077 | t3_x6y4p | in wHiskey? kinda hweird of you to say that | 2 | null |
lordmalifico | t3_xweet | WritingPrompts | c5qckij | 1,344,483,149 | t3_xweet |
I'm in Hong Kong, as a gang member's radial artery is slashed open in a street fight.
I'm in Pittsburgh, as an elderly woman slips into a deep sleep, unbeknownst to her family members in the next room.
I'm in Damascus, as a fourteen year old boy is forced to become a man as his father is killed by a Al-Assad sniper.
I am in Mexico, as a dozen men are locked inside of an outbuilding filled with drugs that's set on fire.
I'm in in Lufkin, Texas when a couple is involved in a car accident.
I'm in Toronto, as a jilted lover throws herself off an overpass into oncoming traffic.
I'm in Las Vegas, Nevada as a young junkie takes a risk he can't handle.
I'm in Tokyo, holding the hand of a man who's losing a battle with cancer, despite the fight he gave to beat it.
I'm there for them.
[I'll be there for you.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9mcloY9BlOU)
| 2 | null |
[deleted] | t1_c5qcj3u | WritingPrompts | c5qcl58 | 1,344,483,210 | t3_x6y4p | [deleted] | 2 | null |
MeiBlossom | t3_xw1k6 | WritingPrompts | c5qcm0p | 1,344,483,304 | t3_xw1k6 | I'm so happy. Of course, I subscribed!
I'm 10 and would really like to become a writer and maybe even illustrate my own stories. I really want to practice being a better writer. This subreddit looks perfect-- I just discovered it today-- and all these prompts are interesting and I'd like to try all of them out.
Thanks so much for making this subreddit so we can all practice and be better writers (or maybe just have a little writing fun)! X3 | 3 | null |
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