One never really knows when the urge to create will strike, only that when it does it is to be seized and held for as long as it may last.
So I put down the blood-slicked knife, ignoring the groaning, flayed mess before me, and waited for it to return.
Alan is an engineering student who doesn’t think he can write but likes to do so anyway.
Frustrated, Raymond slammed his head onto his keyboard. I can’t keep mother waiting! he thought.
Dejected after days of searching through hundreds of online classified ads without any success, he pressed on and eventually found exactly the item he needed: “For sale, one wooden casket. Barely used. $100 or best offer.”
M.H. Camero lives in southern Illinois with his beautiful wife and earns tens of dollars a year with his writing.
Friday. Like every day, the widower awoke to a still estate, silence broken occasionally by his stoic butler’s steps.
His children had left long ago with their trust funds.
His diminished spirits lifted when his chauffeur drove him to his last joy. Taking his place, he smiled. “Welcome to Walmart!”
Bryan Joyner is a middle-aged banker who read about 50-word stories in Daniel Pink’s book “A Whole New Mind”, and began using the concept to connect with his two college age children. Each of them write stories and send them to each other for feedback.
A little black ant crawled across the bare skin of my leg and I regretted, in a minor sort of way, wearing shorts that day. I considered brushing it off but it just seemed unimportant.
Why crawl all the way over there this soon after being in a car crash?
Alan is an engineering student who doesn’t think he can write but likes to do so anyway.
An usher discovered Delbert laying across three seats. “Sir, you only get one seat. You gotta move.”
When Delbert only groaned, management called police. “You appear drunk, sir. Your name?” the cop asked.
“Delbert,” he croaked.
“You got ID?”
“Nooo…” Delbert managed.
“Okay wise-guy, where’d you come from?”
“The balcony.”
Gary Clifton, forty years a cop, has an M.S from Abilene Christian University and short fiction pieces published or pending on over thirty online sites.
“Would you like another tea?”
“Ooh, why yes, thank you. So, tell me about the house.”
“Well, it’s got two…”
“No, no, I know all the boring details. Tell me the interesting things.”
“It’s haunted.”
“Haunted! Really?”
“Yes, I’m serious. Who on earth do you think made all the tea?”
Lewis Cole is an English author who writes leisurely. He aims to improve his writing abilities with practice. His work can be found at http://coleshideyhole.blogspot.co.uk.
The youth stomped in disjointed unison through the crowded shopping complex. They had their target in their sights and wouldn’t relent until they had done what they had set out to do.
She was scared.
Running from the hooded gang, she stopped, and was cornered.
“Miss, you forgot your handbag.”
Lewis Cole is an English author who writes leisurely . He aims to improve his writing abilities with practice. His work can be found at http://coleshideyhole.blogspot.co.uk.
I crouch, bound in tension, not daring to move, not daring to breathe, not daring to blink, lest I be discovered. The consequences would be extremely unsavoury…
Someone enters the room, stops, inhales deeply. Can they smell me? They depart.
I peek. The coast is clear.
This pie is MINE!
I could barely see him through the smoke, a wispy silhouette, dancing and swaying to the rhythmless music of the crackling bonfire. His erratic movements transported me to some other place, a far-off, magical land. He was ethereal, mesmerizing, screaming…
Screaming!?
“DON’T JUST STAND THERE! MY PANTS ARE ON FIRE!!”
This story was based on the prompt “through the flames” at TypeTrigger.
“Come away with me, my darling!”
“Oh, my dear, I thought you’d never ask! Where shall we go?”
“It doesn’t matter where we go, does it, my dove?”
“No, truly it doesn’t, so long as we’re together…”
She felt differently upon their arrival at his cottage behind the garbage dump.
This story was based on the prompt “away with me” at TypeTrigger.