/lit/ - Literature

>>21728176
In the beginning, there was naught but formlessness and void.

Please no steal.

>>21728179
Too late, im gonna use this for my religious text

>>21728176
A career fair is the last place you think of when you think about where you will meet the girl of your dreams, but that is where this dream begins.

>>21728176
The mud was like water quenching blast to a dying man

>>21728176
Time sought, time bought, the evening cunt glowed with the affinity of it's partners misted spear; Hawaii was hell, but hell had whoopie.

Sunrise found him squatting in the grass, groaning.

>>21728176
Call me Ishmael. I'm a frog.

>>21728176
>What is the opening sentence of your magnum opus, /lit/?
The title.

>>21728176
The city was a living, breathing organism, with its own pulsing heart and a million tangled veins that carried life and energy to every corner.

>>21728182
That’s a shame: mine was going to be a feel-good story about some gals who drink wine and a magical pair of pants, but you do you

Sir, this is a Wendy's.

HONK!
(it's about clowns)

>>21728176
Found it. A trick I learned in the army is to scan right to left when looking for camouflaged enemies.

>>21728380
yeah well too late, by the time you found it, the animal has already killed you

>>21728176
Cute kot :)

>>21728387
Yeah but the Afghani military aged male was hit by a hellfire missile

>>21728398
Anon... that was an 8 year old girl

>>21728401
She was probably spotting for the fuckers anyway

"The smoke was fading away from the cigarrete..."
I am not frankly too eager to give more information as the first chapter steams completely from this sentence

>>21728176
This page intentionally left blank.

I need 150 points a game to be scored by niggers to stimulate my dopamine fried American brain.

>>21728176
>"I shidded, I cummed, I farded," said Lorenzo with an air of detached irony, "and then I hit that stanky leg."

>>21728176
Including the first few paragraphs for context:

One cannot raise walls against what has been forgotten.

The citadel of Ishuäl succumbed during the height of the Apocalypse. But no army of inhuman Sranc had scaled its ramparts. No furnace-hearted dragon had pulled down its mighty gates. Ishuäl was the secret refuge of the Kûniüric High Kings, and no one, not even the No-God, could besiege a secret.

Months earlier, Anasûrimbor Ganrelka II, High King of Kûniüri, had fled to Ishuäl with the remnants of his household. From the walls, his sentries stared pensively across the dark forests below, their thoughts stricken by memories of burning cities and wailing multitudes. When the wind moaned, they gripped Ishuäl’s uncaring stone, reminded of Sranc horns. They traded breathless reassurances. Had they not eluded their pursuers? Were not the walls of Ishuäl strong? Where else might a man survive the end of the world?

The plague claimed the High King first, as was perhaps fitting: Ganrelka had only wept at Ishuäl, raged the way only an Emperor of nothing could rage. The following night the members of his household carried his bier down into the forests. They glimpsed the eyes of wolves reflected in the light of his pyre. They sang no dirges, intoned only a few numb prayers.

Before the morning winds could sweep his ashes skyward, the plague had struck two others: Ganrelka’s concubine and her daughter. As though pursuing his bloodline to its thinnest tincture, it assailed more and more members of his household. The sentries upon the walls became fewer, and though they still watched the mountainous horizon, they saw little. The cries of the dying crowded their thoughts with too much horror.

Soon even the sentries were no more. The five Knights of Trysë who’d rescued Ganrelka after the catastrophe on the Fields of Eleneöt lay motionless in their beds. The Grand Vizier, his golden robes stained bloody by his bowel, lay sprawled across his sorcerous texts. Ganrelka’s uncle, who’d led the heartbreaking assault on Golgotterath’s gates in the early days of the Apocalypse, hung from a rope in his chambers, slowly twisting in a draft. The Queen stared endlessly across festering sheets.

>>21730056
My king
I kneel

I'd scratched my balls so continously and aggressively, small dessicated bumps had started to form and meld together into large scabby areas, weeping and cracked.

>>21728176
Money?

>>21728176
"Those dam
n niggers stole me
watch again!"

>>21728176
It was the best of times, it was the blurst of times.

>>21728176
Found it

>>21728176
What a retard, I thought.

>>21730056
THE QUEEN SOLD KUNIURI OUT, THE SRANC WHORED HUSSY

>>21730176
"Weeping and cracked" makes it good, I like it

>>21728176
My brain? Balkanized.

>>21730452
What is this?

>>21728176
This may be my magnum opus — no, it must; an electric intuition of my deepest being tearing through my outermost expression, appropriating my senses and manifesting itself with no care for the one speaking nor those who listen, but it is this being I share with the work and all who have eyes for it, and no finer way to open one's greatest achievement than with a sentence such as this.

I was the shadow of the waxwing slain;
I want to have sex with cute anime girls

>>21730056

_____ fell in the hole,

>>21728176
Leslie felt the semen rushing through her ass

A burgundy Oldsmobile Royale rumbles across a sprawling parking lot.

>>21731259

I'm vulgarity itself. I'm only a good person at home. An immaculate person. But otherwise, it's just masturbation, masturbation, masturbation, masturbation, masturbation, masturbation, masturbation.
My life is masturbation. Total masturbation. I revolve and accelerate, my hand in my pants the whole time. I'm a ballerina dancing through the world.

>>21731269
Always a classic, anon.

What I shared is the opening to a novel a out a film school dropout whose car breaks down as he flees back east, becomes homeless, jerks off on camera for $500, and gets into porn.

>>21731378
Interesting. A published novel?