‘Twas the night before Christmas
And throughout the ‘net
The blogs and webcomics
Tried not to forget
To mention the season
And wish readers well
As if missing Christmas
Would be their death knell
And this lowly website
To follow the herd
Adhered to the pattern
In just fifty words
“Crash!”
I covered my ears and cried, “What’s going on?”
“Bang!”
I shut my eyes and shouted, “What are you doing?!”
“Boom!”
I clenched my teeth together and grunted, “Stop, please! You’re frightening me!”
He said, “Look, you asked me to demonstrate what onomatopoeia was, and that’s what I’m doing.”
The howling of wolves pierced the frosty twilight air.
“If I weren’t so scared for my life,” whispered Mina, “I’d find that eerily beautiful.”
“I think it’s still possible to find something beautiful when you’re scared,” whispered Frederick.
“Are you flirting with me?” asked Mina.
She never got an answer.
“What is she like?”
“Like hearing your favorite song play with just a slight hiss from the vinyl.”
Blank stare.
“Like a robin sweetly singing just for you.”
Furrowed brow.
“Like the smell of sunshine.”
Bewildered eyes.
“So what does that make her?”
“She’s an indescribable experience you never forget.”
Lawrence Fawkes hails from Southern California and aspires to become some sort of professional writer in journalism, fiction, or another field.
Just before dusk, the sun crept up to the horizon. He stealthily surveyed the dark but bustling city laid out before him.
The sun sprang forward, dashing across the sky at breakneck speed and vanishing on the other side.
If he was lucky, no one would notice he’d been late.
The cute little bunnies hopped along in a row, following their mommy.
“Stick close!” she called. “It’s just up ahead.”
They rounded a tree, and there, spread out before them, was a beautiful grassy meadow.
“Here we are!” said mommy bunny.
Suddenly, a punchline happened!
It was absolutely, incredibly hilarious.
Some folks say that when a red moon crests the horizon, twenty-three percent of the world’s pregnant women are within an hour (in either direction) of giving birth.
Me? I say it’s more like eighteen percent. A lot of folks like to exaggerate. I found that out the hard way.
“This town ain’t big ’nuff fer the two of us,” drawled Brain-dead Bill.
“I’m very sorry,” said his mother to the guests. “Ever since poor Bill was shot in the head he’s been repeating silly lines like that.”
“This town ain’t…”
“Bill, you have to share the Fisher Price toys!”
“Look into my eyes, doctor, and tell me what I want to hear.”
“And what is that, ma’am?”
“That some day I’ll be able to roll around on the floor because I’m laughing so hard at something I’ve seen!”
“Of course! With our prescriptive lenses, you will see lolcats again!”
This story was inspired by a title suggested by @thatryanguy.
Garth banged his shin against the coffee table and swore loudly.
“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” said his friend.
“My mother’s dead,” said Garth.
“But if she were alive, would you still kiss her… with… your mouth…”
A few awkward moments passed.
“I probably would,” said Garth.