- This topic has 7 replies, 3 voices, and was last updated 8 years, 3 months ago by
.
-
Posts
-
For anyone who wants to publish their piece of working using the word lists found Here
Hooray, the second link works to get into the other topic. *Oh, boy!*
Oh yes! The title has been changed. Thank you……!!!!!!!!!!!!
@bluejay
“The thirtieth house on Echo Street doesn’t strike most people as the weirdest house in the neighborhood. In fact, most people hear this story and completely disbelieve me. Oh, sure, most of them smile politely and nod. But when I tell them about the experiments that went on there, about the fierce retired-lieutenant-turned-scientist who can no longer recruit willing guinea pigs, nobody takes me seriously.
So I carry the story alone. It is up to me to preserve the history of what I lived through when I ventured into that beige house on that fateful December day. Up to me to bear the weight of my decision. Up to me to manoeuvre my way through the pain I still experience. Alone.
But I think I can trust you to believe me.
I’m not going to perfume this story with flowery details of things that didn’t really happen. I’m not going to sprinkle sugar on top to make it prettier than it is. I’m going to tell you the truth. The ugly truth. And if you’re not willing to hear the ugly truth…Well, you’d better leave now. I’ve given you time to gauge whether or not you’ll be able to take it.
Are you still there?
Good.
It all started on a December morning. I finished eating my breakfast of biscuits and scrambled eggs, and picked up my briefcase to head to work. The snow whipped fiercely through the trees outside, and the wind spared them no garment of white. They stood in stark, brown plainness against the white of the winter sky.
My office was just down the street. Having no car, I walked to work every day, rain or shine. That day seemed no different, until I stepped outside and looked around.
Something was not right.”There’s a story starter for somebody! 🙂 Thanks for the fun challenge… Keep me posted on future word lists!
What’s funny is that when I typed in “manoeuvre” my American spellcheck changed it to “maneuver,” because that’s the way it’s spelled in the States. I love British/Australian spellings though… colour, practise, etc. 🙂YA Fantasy Writer
Obsessive Character Namer
Find me at hisinstrumentblog.wordpress.com@his-instrument That is awesome. I’ll probably post the list in the very near future. I promise to tag you.
@his-instrument; @c-c-lane Here is my short story with the words:
The sun was just peering over the distant hills. Silence reigned everywhere. Fierce men around me stood completely to attention in the frosty air. At a command from our lieutenant we silently crept up the muddy slope and waited there on the wet ground for the order to begin firing. A recruit, lying on the ground next to me, offered me one of his biscuits. I politely refused. Then I saw the weirdest thing. A solider crept past me carrying a beige briefcase. Why anyone would bring such a thing onto the battlefield didn’t make sense, especially as it looked to have some weight to it. Well, he was going to need some luck to preserve it. But every man has to make his own decision. I turned my attention back to the nearing battle and tried to gauge how much longer the wait would be. For the thirtieth time that morning I shifted on the cold earth. “The sooner the fighting starts the better,” I grumbled to myself. Just then the word came to maneuver ourselves into position and I found myself with the briefcase man. I crouched next to the case and my nose caught a whiff of a strange perfume. I was about to ask him about it when the ground exploded in front of me. Through the flying dirt I saw my companion struggling to pull his bag away from the danger. I could hardly believe this guy. What kind of experiment was he trying to perform? I lifted my gun and raised myself above the top of the hill. Bullets whipped passed my ears. After pulling the trigger I turned to lower myself to reload. As I did, a stinging pain ripped through my shoulder. I cried out and tumbled to the ground. I felt fingers on my shoulder just before I blanked out.
- Rank: Wise Jester
- Total Posts: 52
Wow, @Bluejay! That story was awesome! I want to find out what happens next!
Here’s my next story!
My castle is big, but that’s common knowledge. Being the legendary Cinderella, it means I tend to get a lot of visitors, tourists and other annoying people. The castle is complete with a whirlpool hot-tub, diamond chandelier, and an exotic penguin exhibition. Each of these is posted on an online brochure.
Needless to say, my fast-paced life can be a bit overwhelming, and at the end of the day, I am exhausted. As of now, I lay on my bed, trying to remember my own name. Eventually, the exertion that the daily activities brought sent me sleeping.
Meanwhile…
The chauffeur spoke in a foreign language to a conspirator in hushed tones. Finally, when they came to an agreement, the distinguished man in charge straightened his tie and opened the back of Cinderella’s limo. Inside lay a strange array of items, one of which was a parachute. In English, the chauffeur asked, “What do we need the parachute for?”
The executive stared him in the eye, extinguishing the chauffeur’s arrogant mannerism. “That’s none of your concern. Do you wish for me to exempt you from the operation?”
The chauffeur looked at is shined shoes; even though he had been in this business for years, his doubting kept him in the lower echelon of allowance. “Fine,” he rescinded, cowering under his boss’s examination, “I’ll do it.”
- You must be logged in to reply to this topic.