Mr. Mannequin was not a particularly outgoing person. He was more concerned with the latest fashions than with making social contact. He was content to let others pass by and stare (in jealousy of his fine wardrobe, probably).
On Wednesdays, he tidied his master’s secret laundry room genetic engineering laboratory.
His mighty lungs seethed with an expansive power that rivaled the greatest operatic diva. His inhalations were vortexes. His exhalations were hurricanes.
His breath was like clockwork, a regular, rhythmic, unceasing alternation of perfectly balanced forces.
It was this, alas, that caused his tragic drowning death in the kiddie pool.
This story was based on a title submitted by @inzyster.
Once there was a village of Happies. They loved life!
But the mean Slappies bullied the Happies until they became Unhappies.
One of the Happies awoke the wise Nappies. The Nappies gave some puppies to the Slappies, who loved them so much that they became Sappies.
Then everyone was happy!
I’m glad the Sappies are happy, but hanging out with them can be so uncomfortable. They just sit there and pet their puppies and make cooing noises and talk in baby voices and rub their noses on their puppies’ noses… Blech.
Priscilla the porcupine kept a tidy house. She dusted regularly and opened the windows so she could smell the lavender in the garden.
Hers was an idyllic home.
On Tuesdays she flew a flag and shot at the tax man. The one thing Priscilla loved more than tidiness was freedom.
Normally I try to take prompts from different people, but when @MisterFiendZero gave me this prompt, along with the previous one, I knew I had to go with both.
“Eat your rice pudding, young man!”
“I don’ wanna!”
“Eat it all up, or you won’t get any ninja turtles!”
“But Mooooooooooom…”
“I’ll tell the store to never let you have a Donatello ever!”
That did it. Little Billy ate rice pudding every day for the rest of his life.
“Sleep. Don’t cry. There is nothing you can do.
“They are gone, never to return. We cannot bring them back, and I am sorry, but you must live with that.”
That’s what she said, but today they died, and I will cry with the rain.
Today I am an orphan.
Matthew Trotter is 21 and lives where the wind carries him. He enjoys writing to pass time and reads as much as he can.
Was it left first, and then right, or was it right first? Hmm. Let’s try left first. Lift; swing forward; now what? Heel or toe? How was this thing supposed to bend?
No matter how much he practiced walking, Sully couldn’t help but feel that he was doing it wrong.
This story is based on a title suggested by @davefp.
One shot is all it takes. He is dead.
Her blouse is wet with blood. Her cigarette rests between her swollen lips as she drags him through the dead leaves with a shovel in hand. She doesn’t cry until she drops his limp body in the hole.
His collar jingles.
Adam is a student at Rowan University and plans on graduating in December 2010. He is an avid writer, concentrating on contemporary adult fiction and concrete poetry. He is currently working on a collection of selected poems, revising and perfecting the prose. His website is adamgpoetry.tumblr.com.
The ketchup was all gone, and it was nearly midnight. Tembothy knew that if he wanted to fully enjoy his hot dogs and his macaroni, he’d probably have to wait until morning.
Then he remembered that there was a twenty-four-hour corner store down the street!
Sadly, it was sold out.
The Little Steam Engine That Could was a celebrity! But it soon hit puberty, and like so many child stars before it, that completely ruined its career.
Before long, the LSETC was completely broke. It thought it could earn redemption by winning the Great Steam Engine Race, but it couldn’t.
The title for this story was provided by RagePyro.