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nycwriters 07-06-2007 12:05 PM

Fifteen minutes. They say we all get it at least once in our lives, but this was huge. HUGE! Brynn sat at her dressing table, slowly brushing her long blonde hair. Too bad it'd all get cut off soon. Outside she could already hear the media clamouring. Everyone wanted a piece of her. A small smile formed at the corners of her mouth. Ready, she walked down the stairs to the front door. It was her time. The police were ready to take her away. They'd found her guilty of slaughtering her entire family and she was in the spotlight.


Brynn 07-09-2007 05:22 PM

very nice!

nycwriters 07-10-2007 07:16 PM

Thank you :)

now you go


trisherina 08-05-2007 01:07 PM

They were things that other people had, and they seemed to know all about them, and everyone was surprised when she didn’t. And they were all so interested in the subject, making her assume must be very important. And it was so easy in some ways; you could voice an opinion that something was good or bad and never be questioned or asked to provide support for your argument, as long as enough of the right people agreed with you. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for some of the victims – like alligators – but who likes them in any case?

next: purple

Hyakujo's Fox 08-06-2007 10:07 AM

suspensions of taste, and convention were required. perhaps genius in some form, surely a clear and stoic sanity or the lack of one. so many years ago, one dire sibling or the other might have cornered him there in his room with a hard word, or even a friend could have burned him a new shame inside. but that great talent in him had first swollen and then burst, and had washed away all inner and outer impediment. and now, with only the warm sea of his own possible selves sitting as his audience, he went out all in purple

next: beeping

trisherina 10-07-2007 01:34 AM

There was a scratching, and a beeping, and the first thought was that the headphones were crap, but it was the long sweep of an earring rather than interrupted current making the skritch, and the beep was a fire engine backing up, making her pick up the pace across its path until she was aware of the loping bouncing gait, the dogged stride of the man who rides mostly shank’s mare and the bus, the slack shoulders and feet barely clearing the pavement, the wrong side’s tread that she lapsed into like a childhood accent whenever she was caught unawares.

Next: easy

Marcus Bales 10-07-2007 10:07 PM

He eased in through the door as if to stay
Unnoticed for a moment while he took
A count of those who interested him.
He chose, and glided on – but gave away
No chance to take another angling look
At her, or slide a glance around through dim
And hiding light for any other mark.

She liked the way he looked -- and crunched her ice
And licked her lips. She nodded to entice
Him toward her through the shallows of the dark.

Each one thinks the other easy prey –
And in that light and depth, well, who can say?

Next: Beethoven

Hyakujo's Fox 10-16-2007 10:14 AM

Now they wonder if it is even too cruel, and they wonder if it is even too ironic, given all the latitude that must be granted a merciful God. And they ask themselves the questions to which only such a merciful God, secure enough of himself, seeks no answers. But he does not hear their whispered heresies, or their winter coughs, their crashing spills and grating scrapes, their curses over stubbed toes, their idle gossip in the stairway. He hears now only what he chooses to see, or to imagine, and it is perfectly played, and he is not ungrateful.

next: the changes you made

trisherina 10-29-2007 11:51 PM

There were really only two of note, and they were all twined up together in the way that everything is bound together if you will only look: the stone ripples the smooth surface of the water and even when it seems as though the energy has been absorbed by the shore, it still warms the sand just enough that if you are there and paying close attention, you will notice a difference. They were the marriage and the career, and he squats next to the pond with flat eyes taking it all in, slimy rump leeching the faint heat beneath.

Next: owl

zero 10-30-2007 03:31 PM

if the call drifts in from midnight, it takes imagination not to wish for something. so why, when it comes, do i hurry outside leaving the door wide open, the lamp still on and the radio lulling itself to sleep in the empty room? the chill fills my shirtsleeves, the fingerless estuarine chill of one enormous nightfall on my skin. lamoonlight quivers tree branches over gusts of wind. i squeeze between sound and silence. owl-shriek comes from an ever-present tense, restores me to where the mind leaves off, to the nothing of the self, to the here and now.

next topic: simulacra

Angry Kid Hoyt 10-30-2007 05:11 PM

simulacra ( a work of fiction)
I don’t think I am all that, but I have a lot of issues with a lot of things.
My mom thinks I need to be more willing to settle.
I think that people need to realize that they are surrounded by fraudulent representations of everything.
My Therapist says I need to spend less time worrying about other people’s lives.
I don’t consider what they call ”lives” to merit the title.
My friends say I am trite and superficial.
I think they need to look in a mirror more often.

That being said, I really do love The Olive Garden.

next topic: hipocracy

Brynn 11-12-2007 01:38 AM


trisherina 11-12-2007 02:41 AM

Why do we have so many rules? Why is everyone so hooked into rules for every damn thing? Do this and don’t do that. You know what would be better? How about a “Do what you can and do what you have to, sure, maybe you’re having a bad day or something, everyone has an off day now and again, hell, I’m no better, certainly.” Why don’t we have those kinds of rules? Yeah. And everyone could try to understand each other a bit more, instead of making rules about everything every time you turn around. Yeah. That would be better.

Next: determined

Anna 11-12-2007 04:03 AM


This was it, he had tried before and failed. Oh, sure there were minor set backs, but that was expected. Yet, some how then never really seemed quite right. “This time it’s going to work, I know the direction and path, but perhaps the that past was just about now, maybe this isn’t what it seems to be, could this really be it?” He thought, “or am I fooling myself once again. Am I the fool?” No time to think of that now must move ahead, put aside all doubts, do what ever needs to be done to succeed.

Next Topic: water

zero 11-12-2007 10:33 AM

all evening he had seen and heard her. a simulacrum, a living creature, an echo, his twin from the invisible over there. she had slipped into the cool, black water. from his riparian zone he had watched her swimming beneath la moon for half an hour and then turn for home beneath the august sky, a half-smile on her face, her hair a damp, petrol-blue glisten. later as he drifted downstream he knew that she would stop and recognize him as a kindrid spirit with river in his eyes, holding the key to her nights in his soft, webbed fingers.

next topic: still

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