/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.11290826]

Describe this image in the style of your favorite author.

[Anonymous No.11290837]

It's a skeleton you fucking bozo.

[Anonymous No.11290850]

"Good. Bad. I'm the guy with the gun."

[Anonymous No.11290864]

>>11290826
The skeleton
He destroyed his human cage
Yes
YES
The skeleton is out

[Anonymous No.11290899]

Spooky

[Anonymous No.11290907]

>>11290826
What's terrifying to think about is that there is a skeleton living inside everyone

[Anonymous No.11290971]

>>11290850
I like this

[Anonymous No.11290978]

"scary skelly man pow!! Shoot him. O flashbacks"

my 90 year old autistic son

[Anonymous No.11290980]

The real skeletons in our closet were the friends we made along the way.

[Anonymous No.11290984]

>>11290864
this

[Anonymous No.11291112]

Being a dealer has it drawbacks.
Take Skeletor for instance.
He began by wanting to dominate the universe. That is ambition my dudes. But one hit and you're in the shit. Boney motherfucker climbed my back wall and charged me with a blade all because I wouldnt give him pills without payment upfront.
Dude was off the rails.
I hit him with a flurry of buckshots and threw the remaing scraps of bone in the trash.
You're welcome He-Man.

[Anonymous No.11291218]

He came at me from the the dark; one-armed and armed with a sword. Fear gripped me, I could feel the sweat in my pits seeping through my shirt. I hadn't felt this kind of fear since about a week ago. I had gotten home from the shops and realized that I forgot to buy cucumbers. It was a real drag. Maybe I'm confusing fear and sadness? Who knows! Anyhow, this skeleton looking guy came at me, and in my fear, sadness, regret, joy, maybe all at once, I shot him. Bang! just like that. It's not that I wanted to kill him ,I don't think he wanted to kill me even, but I did. Then again, maybe he did... it's the same either way. Shoot-bang and now we're here, waiting for what has to be.

[Anonymous No.11291922]

>>11290864
Beautiful.

[Anonymous No.11291977]

1920's pulp version:
"I again heard the odd click-clack storming through the darkness. What bizarre creature of the Devil Doctor could this yield? I was certain it must be related.

The noise suddenly renewed in intensity and from behind a bush The One-Armed Skeleton with a Sword popped out! Smith leaped from behind a tree then, and I heard the crack of a shotgun from next to me. The pile of dusky bones fell to the ground, but not before a decrepit limb struck my head, and I fell unconscious."

[Anonymous No.11292750]

>>11290826

From the stygian well of the forest night before me sprang a perversion of the skeletal form, its very motion an impossiblilty. It lacked sinew or muscle tissue of any kind, yet it moved with a speed that astonished me. Fortunately some primal part of my mind reacted quickly enough to raise my grandfather's shotgun and fire, sending the fiendish construct back to whatever abyss of horrors that birthed it. Niggers.

[Anonymous No.11292763]

>>11290826
-Goddamn entropy goddamn novel goddamn..
-Mr. Gibbs hey...
Reaching into his pocket-Goddamn where's my keys
-Holy...
-Jesus!
[block of breathless prose that hardly implies that anything regarding the skeleton even happened]

[Anonymous No.11292769]

Death came for me; I knew it was hopeless.

[Anonymous No.11292785]

>>11290864
That's practically plagiarism

[Anonymous No.11292798]

>>11292750
America belongs to Amerindians the same as europe belongs to europeans. Time to get replaced.

[Anonymous No.11292819]

>>11292785
It's paraphrasing. It could be considered plagiarism, but also satire.

[Anonymous No.11292841]

>>11292763
You dropped your fifth ace with that "entropy" at the start.

My attempt:
I aimed my rifle at the charging skeleton.

[Anonymous No.11292856]

>>11290826
4.20 Verily verily I say unto you, thine bones will be blown to dust from whence it came if thou shalt charge bare with sword in hand in darkness.

[Anonymous No.11292872]

>>11292841
>rifle

[Anonymous No.11292879]

>>11290826
wtf is this picture real?

[Anonymous No.11292903]

>>11292763
underrated

[Anonymous No.11292906]

skelly run I make boom

[Anonymous No.11292914]

>>11290826
It came rattling out of the caliginous stratum of dark bow-legged and quick and gripping overhead a crude and iron brand and with a slaverous malice rigid and violent like the stripped vindictive shadow of his own unrectified and lost soul somewhere in that stygian pnuema of night. He leveled the rifle.

[Anonymous No.11292965]

>>11292914
it's a shotgun bro

[Anonymous No.11292972]

Mine

[Anonymous No.11292984]

>>11292965
Pretend it's a double-barreled rifle.

[Anonymous No.11292999]

>>11290864
This is beautiful, what author?

[Anonymous No.11293013]

Arnold came upon the dark desert plain under the barely-starlit sky which spanned as wide as anything he'd ever seen and he felt in that night a certain stinging in his eyes and an itch in the back of his throat that typically accompanied what he remembered as the sour rot of a game-kill left to scavengers. He spat, and paced forward, glassing the prairie floor with his flashlight and noting to himself the growing stench of rot that crept ever stronger into his nose. He paned his light over a ghoulish amalgation of animated corpse-bones, held together it seemed by the rotting ligaments that ground between the pivots in the bones. The skull of the thing was tilted back with its sinking jaw cast open as if in soundless laugh. The spectre approached him with a ferocious speed and weilded above the ivory dome of its skull a silver broadsword, swung in one hand. Arnold leveled the gun of German steel and burled oak at the thing and with his thumb flicked off the safety and blasted in it its reanimated hollow rib cage with the first shot and then again, lower, in the groin of it with the second. Cursing himself for leaving the motel with nothing more than a double barrel break action, he swung the chipped and fading stock of the rifle into the rotting shoulder bones and felt beneath his swing a great cracking and shattering of pale dried bones. It fell with all three blows but it did not bleed any red blood. Arnold then spent the next hour in the dark, with his flashlight pitched upon a boulder, using his shovel to dissect and separate the skeleton, flinging off the different bones before finally burrying the skull in the dry uncollected dust of the prairie. He spat on the mound of freshly dug dirt before him and with a great swing of his arm he cast the broadsword into the night and heard after a pause the heft of it clatter upon rock in some unseen crevasse no more than 20 yards from where he stood. Unmistakeable clash of metal upon stone eternal roused the ghouls that crawled out of the hole like roaches. He began to hear the rustling of movement, the sickly grinding of bone upon bones as more of these unholy creatures began to stir and rise from the hole in the floor in the desert under a sky so dark that it made his flashlight into a holy bastion of the medium for his defense. He spat and loaded two more buckshot shells into his gun.
Guess who this is

[Anonymous No.11293021]

John Blaster leveled his double barreled shotgun at his old friend, Cal C. Yums, "I'm sorry it had to be this way," he said, his hand beginning to squeeze the trigger. The boney skeleton ran right past John, bringing his blade down on a hidden Zaphos agent in the brush, turning his skull back to his friend, rattling in joy.

[Anonymous No.11293028]

>>11292750
>>11292914
>>11293013

These all sound like MCarthy. I'm not sure about the first two but the last one definitely.

[Anonymous No.11293031]

>>11291112
Hunter S Thompson

[Anonymous No.11293046]

>>11293028
The first one has way too much punctuation. Judging from 'niggers' it's Lovecraft.

[Anonymous No.11293075]

His skin having been repossessed by a greasy haired loan shark with a thick Scottish accent, Basil St Pope desperately tried to explain to the shotgun wielding man the exact nature of the impending invasion of mushroom handed men from the outer Kuiper Belt.
Unfortunately, Basil knew he was doomed to fail, as the man he faced was himself from thirty years prior, and he knew this incident would end with his skeletal body being blasted to pieces, and the Earth being enslaved by fungal armed tyrants.
A child would later find his bones and use his skull as a flower pot.
He grew snapdragons.

[Anonymous No.11293107]

>>11293028
Second is definitely McCarthy, just because of 'he leveled the rifle'

[Anonymous No.11293118]

>>11291112
best

[Anonymous No.11293461]

The Deliverator was the kind of operator who kept a cool, clean double-barrel in a Disneyland-branded duffel bag strapped to the side of his tuned Suzuki Hayabusa.

Through the fisheye lenses of his milspec thermals, he spotted some crooked-looking character with less meat on his bones than the expired corpse of that vulture-bait juvenile African in that infamous Kevin Carter picture.

[Anonymous No.11293575]

>>11293461
That sounds nothing like PKD, anon.

[Anonymous No.11293579]

>>11292763
What author? I'm a pleb

[Anonymous No.11293607]

>>11290826
>Skeletons have from the beginning been an emaciated mockery of the flesh, an idyllic other the better to slander this life.

>The skeleton replied by answering: "Rrrarrrgh" in the manner in which a skeleton might speak. Tyliqua's roasted sausages turned in his stomach (no homo). The mustard and fennel turned from a pleasant aroma to the most noxious stench. A cup of spiced ale tipped over in the fray, spilling across the grass-matted paddock, soaking a pile of chestnuts that the local tavern keeper had been preparing for his sister's wedding to the weaver from the town one over, but who would now go hungry due to the spoilage of the walnuts. Anyways, so the skeleton lopped Tyliqua's head off.

>Now, you might think it quite silly for a skeleton to be chasing a terse-yet-affectionate young girl and a British-yet-English young boy through the haunted woods. Tom was quite frightened as he felt the skeleton's grip close over his ankles, but as he was viciously murdered in front of Sally, a courageous Lion appeared, and while the Lion did not stop the vicious slaughter, it was somehow okay. I suppose if I could describe it to you, we wouldn't need books. As Tom lay dying, he managed to mutter "Start with the Greeks," to Sally. Sally, the lion, and a family of beavers then went to eat another family of beavers who couldn't talk, and then Sally napped on a bed of heather, and when she woke up, it was all as though it had been a dream, a wonderful, wonderful dream.

[Anonymous No.11293614]

>>11290826
The grey-white bones rattled as it ran and wavered right towards Wyatt. The Colada, as he saw it, the sword of El Cid Campeador, waved wildly from the skeleton's single arm. --Today, you die, Bones . . . said Wyatt, as his shotgun too was raised towards the air. BANG! And Bones was dead.

[Anonymous No.11293623]

>>11290826

[Anonymous No.11293627]

>>11290826
the skele rattle bump SPOOK! ran towards the man with the double barrel shotgun. --You come for me today tomorrow I you, said the man who hid his eyes beneath his hat. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! the skele was yelling charging right towards him, his right bones missing, his hissing airless voice lost amongst the dark bush and cloudlessness which melded with the night. BANG! chk chk BANG! --Did you hit him? asked the girl who was hiding in the dark. --Yes so he could feel and his heart was now wasn't I was going like mad Yes I hit him I said Yes.

[Anonymous No.11293686]

>>11290826
So there it was, the literal representation of death coming at me , my hands are shaking , my mind is full of fainted and confusing thougts , but i take the damn shot.
So this is what it means to be forgiven.

[Anonymous No.11293957]

>>11293623
I don’t understand .

[Anonymous No.11293966]

>>11290826
Waking up to a loud DOOT rarely means something good is happening. It's never DOOT! Mom made pancakes!" or "DOOT! We decided to adopt a golden retriever!"

[Anonymous No.11293980]

>>11293686
Nice

[Anonymous No.11294142]

>>11290826
Shit thread

[Anonymous No.11294197]

>>11293966
Kek

[Anonymous No.11294212]

the next time he points out
the cartilage on your legs is growing back
remind that boy
your body is not his home
he is a guest
warn him to never
outstep his welcome
again

[Anonymous No.11294263]

>>11290826
It was the weirdest and most unimaginable thing, or perhaps, my perception of reality had been morphed so bad that I started seeing it. It was a skeleton dance.

[Anonymous No.11294297]

>>11290826
Upon shining my torch on the direction of the rattling, I was met with a sight so terrifying and bewildering that even now, sitting in my decrepit study, I still fail to fully comprehend. A blasphemous figure of human bones, so clean and white as to be unnerving, rushed towards me with a short sword in its hand, flailing its hideous arm despite the absence of the other. Within this maddening darkness, illuminated by the torch in my left hand, something something cyclopean monstrosity I'm high.

[Anonymous No.11294356]

BERNARDO: Seen you this apparition 'gain tonight?

MARCELLUS: As surely as yon eastward star illumes
The thankful earth, it 'ppeared before mine eyne;
A horrid sight--so pale, so wan--as like
The night reveals, when spirits--led by
Hecat's command--come out to swarm our orb
With pestilence and horror-shrieking acts;
And thou must know the signs that omen on
Portentous ill, as like the palmy state
Of Rome when specters roam'd and fill'd the air
With gloomy woe; as when--O, I forget
My sometime tale. Alas, to guard myself
From what appear'd and seem'd to charge
With malice bent, a fury in its eyes,
I rais'd my saviour, fir'ng out a shot
That carv'd its bones and crack'd the pallid ghost
Into a thousand bits--its sword still caught
Within its grasp, of which I now may give
To thee, to show the King, of which our utmost
Speed is sure. Celerity must fly its wings
In times o' these.

[Anonymous No.11294386]

>>11290826
My mother is a skeleton

[Anonymous No.11294395]

Ilsebill added more calcium.

[Anonymous No.11294547]

For skel
Double barrel
Never shot

[Anonymous No.11294553]

>>11290907
>What's terrifying to think about is that there is a skeleton living inside everyone

skellingtons doesn't real

[Anonymous No.11294569]

I was wearing a navy blue pinstripe Zegna suit with a blue Dolce and Gabana shirt and a silver and blue striped Gucci repp tie and black John Lobb balmorals. The shotgun was a Remington 870 12 gauge with Remington #2 buckshot shells. After the blast from the shotgun obliterated the shotgun I thought about ramming the smoking hot gun barrel up the vagina of the next women I encountered until I perforated her uterus.
But I had to return some videotapes.

[Anonymous No.11294582]

Thred reported for being too spooky.

[Anonymous No.11294596]

>>11290826
Boneman!!! BONEMAN!!!!!
But a shot in the dark one step away from you
A shot in the dark not a thing that you can do
A shot in the dark always creeping up on you
But just like the wounded and when it's too late
They'll remember they'll surrender
Never a care for the people who hate
Underestimate me now

[Anonymous No.11294647]

There came then from the cold and primordial dark of the continent still unconquered the shreaking collection of bone in the form of a man attacking and unafraid in his fleshlessness and born by some evil intention against the guns of the defenders it fearless and nameless and swinging the sword of some still more ancient Warrior who met his end somewhere out and lost in the great dust of timeless and lost turmoil swung wildly in a singing arc of wanting steel and malice against life and averistic desire to cut short the hero of lipsarian tragedy before chance of redemption.

[Anonymous No.11294657]

>>11292879
Of course not. Skeletons don't real

[Anonymous No.11294661]

>>11293575
Neal Stephenson senpai

[Anonymous No.11294751]

"Humanité finie!" Oh how he startled me, the pet! My own bony interior rattled with a tornado of temper as Mr. Bones made his advance. With my extravagantly rusted tool - "le mertre" - in hand I approached him. And it was then that with vehement pursuit I reached my final meaty gasp, that foul exertion that was not societal but only personal. He was not deflowered - the postmortem state has no sense of virginal binary, so in that sense I was spared. I am not a dirty necrophiliac, a disturber of purity, a rogue! Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this was purely an advance that only reflected myself and himself - unadorned by any celestial or judicial boundary.

[Anonymous No.11294771]

>>11290826
RAAAAA! IN THE NAME OF THE EMPORER, CEASE AND DESIST, RAAA! I AM A WITCH HUNTER SENT TO DESTROY YOUR NECROMANTIC MASTERS THAT LAY IN CASTLE DRACHENFALS :DDD

[Anonymous No.11294828]

>>11290826
CRASH
What do I see?
A skeleton!
He's running at me!
One arm, holding a sabre
engaging
in a spooky endeavor.
The bony fellow
was stopped short
when my shotgun shot.

[Anonymous No.11294891]

>>11293579
William Gaddis

[Anonymous No.11295591]

>>11294569
Whatever that unhinged fellow's name was who wrote American Psycho.

I could have guessed this even without the vagina part.

[Anonymous No.11295603]

>>11293966
Someone link that thread I want to cringe

[Anonymous No.11295637]

>>11292785
human cage takes on a different meaning here so it technically isn't plagiarism
also
>implying anyone could plagiarize a 5 year old

[Anonymous No.11295683]

>>11295591
Bret Easton Ellis.

Speaking of excessively described clothing, how come Tom Wolfe doesn't get ragged on it as hard as BEE does? That fucker loves fashion, it's his one of his go to methods of characterization.

[Anonymous No.11295713]

>>11293579
Hello fellow Freefag. Are you excite for S3?

[Anonymous No.11295741]

>>11290826

it is always possible to distinguish the author and his philosophies
personalities in any artistic expression, high or low
tragedy or propaganda, the inflection is always personal
. It is unique in the way that the self as a human ideal exists,
all reflecting the same starting point, a series
of initial iterations

[Anonymous No.11296266]

In the moment he lost control. He attacked the beast, shooting it square in the chest, despite the neutrality of his view on living. Despite his very core virtue admitting that life was pointless, that God was dead and that any action was buying into the game of life he so despised, still he could not stop himself from self-preservation. Awakened inside him was the idea that had moved every man from the beginning of time, every nation since the Greeks, and every religious faith to ever exist. He was finally alive

[Anonymous No.11296482]

On seeing me, the skeleton raised himself a little, and his hand went to his pocket. Naturally, I gripped Raymond's shotgun in the pocket of my coat. Then the skeleton let himself sink back again, but without taking his hand from his pocket. I was some distance off, at least ten yards, and most of the time I saw him as a blurred dark form wobbling in the night haze. Sometimes, however, I had glimpses of his eye-holes glowing between the half-closed lids. The sound of the waves was even lazier, feebler, than at day. But the dark hadn't changed; it was pounding as fiercely as ever on the long stretch of sand that ended at the rock. For two hours the moon seemed to have made no progress; becalmed in a sea of molten steel. Far out on the horizon a steamer was passing; I could just make out from the corner of an eye the small black moving patch, while I kept my gaze fixed on the skeleton.

It struck me that all I had to do was to turn, walk away, and think no more about it. But the whole beach, pulsing with darkness, was pressing on my back. I took some steps toward the stream. The skeleton didn't move. After all, there was still some distance between us.

I waited. The night was beginning to scorch my cheeks; beads of sweat were gathering in my eyebrows. It was just the same sort of darkness as at my mother's funeral, and I had the same disagreeable sensations — especially in my forehead, where all the veins seemed to be bursting through the skin. I couldn't stand it any longer, and took another step forward. I knew it was a fool thing to do; I wouldn't get out of the darkness by moving on a yard or so. But I took that step, just one step, forward. And then the skeleton drew his sword and held it up toward me, athwart the moonlight.

A shaft of light shot upward from the steel, and I felt as if a long, thin blade transfixed my forehead. At the same moment all the sweat that had accumulated in my eyebrows splashed down on my eyelids, covering them with a warm film of moisture. Beneath a veil of brine and tears my eyes were blinded; I was conscious only of the cymbals of the moon clashing on my skull, and, less distinctly, of the keen blade of light flashing up from the sword, scarring my eyelashes, and gouging into my eyeballs.

Then everything began to reel before my eyes, a fiery gust came from the sea, while the sky cracked in two, from end to end, and a great sheet of flame poured down through the rift. Every nerve in my body was a steel spring, and my grip closed on the shotgun. The trigger gave, and the smooth underbelly of the butt jogged my shoulder. And so, with that crisp, whipcrack sound, it all began. I shook off my sweat and the clinging veil of light. I knew I'd shattered the balance of the night, the spacious calm of this beach on which I had been happy. But I fired the other chamber into the inert body, on which they left no visible trace. And the successive shot was another loud, fateful rap on the door of my undoing.

[Anonymous No.11297326]

>>11293607
>tfw no one liked yours

Sad times.

[Anonymous No.11297344]

>>11293627
underrato

[Anonymous No.11297364]

>>11295637
>human cage takes on a different meaning here
brainlet detected

[Anonymous No.11297368]

>>11292999
Nael

[Prince of Germanyland No.11297379]

>>11290826
"Shoot it Ben! Shoot it you fat little fuck! If you want a boner again, then shoot the skeleton."

As Ben Hascom has failed repeatedly to get and maintain an erection, he is now tasked with fighting impotence face to face. Which is a skeleton with no penis and an erect arm. Killing this skeleton, along with many other people, animals and whatever else is innocent, has given him an erection.

[Anonymous No.11297436]

>>11290826
Charge! And onwards went Fleshy Bobberel, yanking one of his - for there are always two - arms straight out of the ribcage, like it was a banjo string eking out a particularly shifty downward tempo. The other hand was still raised, clutching the sword that Londra Clintock claimed he stole but could never prove, almost as an afterthought. But when he chattered out the word for action, he finally felt the purpose engulfing him, propelling him onward over the terrain that didn't see a landscaping expert ever since the Lanyard Mowing Corp. offices got closed at the turn of the sixties because their owner saw that there's more money in actually renting out the overgrown acres... so, charge it was. But Fleshy felt suddenly transfixed by a glare in the gloom even before the dreaded smell of gunpowder permeated the cicada filled nightscape. He could not for the life of him feel the wind at his heels nor could he distribute the air in the near vicinity to serve as a sort of propellant before the barrels were to sound and annoint his demise. So there he was, more looming than charging, like a polaroid image that got overexposed until the moment that it was aiming for got irrevocably lost. Shower of bones followed, I still have a hard time thinking about all the mess.

Wow! Was all Fern Piggus could say. But what happened to his sabre?

[Anonymous No.11297482]

>>11290826
The skull was my first port of call, with the cranium, the mandible and of course, though not technically bones, the teeth, which included, as always, incisors, canines and molars. The neck was next, followed by the clavicle, the scapula, the sternum, the humerus, the radius and the ulna, right down to the hand, with the carpals, metacarpals and phalanges, and across to the pubis, where my hand spends an inordinate amount of time. But don't think I stopped there. I spent three months studying the legs, with the femur, the patella, the fibula and the tibia (in that order), and what my father referred to as 'the sexiest appendage', the foot, with the tarsals, metatarsals and, again, phalanges.

When it came to skeletons you could say I covered all the bases

[Anonymous No.11298395]

Approaching from the dark a skeleton rattle, thin tendrils of ectoplasm reaching out from its fingers, junk sick in the morning cold, scent of rectal mucus and blood. Rattling sound as I insert the Remington into the pelvic cavity and blast the piles out so that they wrap around the rear wheel of the car, onlooking mugwumps sipping paregoric through alabaster straws.

"You think I am innarested in your spooky rattling? I am not innarested at all!"

A cough of smoke and hideous screams as naked young men thrash and shit and piss as a fat lesbian in jackboots and a three-corner hat hacks at them with a cavalry sword, singing "Yankee Doodle Dandy" and stomping their mangled bodies as she does.

All skeletal spookiness resolves into sender-receiver relations with the spooked. Young boys need it special.

[Anonymous No.11298403]

>>11297344
thank u

[Anonymous No.11299518]

Deep Dark Wood
Spooky
Something moves
Scared
Boneman appears
Adrenalin rush
Swoops at me
Guns drawn
Bonemans a pile
Smile

[Anonymous No.11299529]

>>11299518
Dante

[Anonymous No.11299586]

>>11299529
sì

[Anonymous No.11299937]

>>11290826
It goes like this: Necronomic hypercalcium self aggregates into post-anthropic death signafier, reflecting photon emission, as it progresses into the iron age of techno-violence, the fate of its antithesis' capacity to stop the inevitable: unknown.

[Anonymous No.11301156]

>>11295713
Sorry, I don't watch anime, I just like cute boy with the ball.

[Anonymous No.11301402]

In Vienna we met a man named Friedrich Janus who, only after exceeding his previously announced two-drinks limit by a considerable margin, recounted to us how one night he had been camping near the border town of Leipswitz when a rattling noise disturbed him enough so get outside from his tent carrying a torch and his shotgun, only to see a skeleton who, frightened by the sudden explosion of light towards it and the fright of a shotgun aimed in its direction, removed one of its arms and wielded it as a weapon, causing the man named Friedrich Janus to flee from what he, after long comtemplation, had decided was not a human skeleton. Upon asked to elaborate he explained that it is true humans have skeletons inside their bodies, but not all skeletons were ever in possession of an external body, and it was one of these figures he had encountered while camping near the bordertown of Leipswitz, a place to which he made a solemn vow never to return.

[Anonymous No.11301478]

I come to and oh boy look and this skeleton WOW what a guy with a sword and an arm throwing it around well he may got a sword but I got one to and I load and BAM gone just finished if he had blood it'd be everywhere.

[Anonymous No.11301499]

>>11301478
Joyce

[Anonymous No.11301572]

>>11290826
Bloom, smirking, pointed his shotgun at the skeleton, grinning, that approached him with one arm lifted, sword in its hand, the other missing. The whiteness of bone: the whiteness of a whale. Light condensed. Is the marrow good? Must try it.

[Anonymous No.11301574]

Skeleton. Back from the dead. Shotgun. Pull the trigger: send it back to hell.

[Anonymous No.11301593]

To you it is a skeleton. To me it is a person. A person who at this current time is not living. But why is your timeline more valid than the ones of people who used to view what you see as a skeleton as a person?

[Anonymous No.11301790]

>>11301499
I’ve never read any of Joyce so idk

[Anonymous No.11302727]

Not my favorite author but i felt as if it's appropriate
"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

He notices me
His one bone arm now has a focus
Recognizing my shotgun as a threat, his bones move

They're like ominous clubs

The skeleton gives a death cry and runs to kill his enemy.

---------Mad Skeleton
The skeleton craves calcium, but is still the same
He's still fighting his battle against leukemia
He is without an arm, his bones have spooked twice over and his bones are rotting but he still fights.

[Anonymous No.11303982]

>>11290826
There I was, absolutely twisted watching this monster charge at me with a damn sword in his bony hands.
"Back you crazy fucking monster!" I shouted.
A blast erupted from the end of my shotgun.
"Chickenshit homo!" I barked, my Dunhill falling from my lips.

[Anonymous No.11304280]

>>11291112
Sounds more like Ernest Cline than HST.
>>11291218
Céline
>>11292750
Lovecraft
>>11292914
McCarthy
>>11292763
Dunno, but I don't like it.
>>11293013
Dunno, but it's pretty fucking good. Write more. And please, do tell.
>>11293075
Douglas Adams
>>11294212
Rupee
>>11293686
Hemingway
>>11294297
Poe
>>11294356
Marlowe
>>11294569
BEE
>>11294647
McCarthy (bad)
>>11294751
Céline
>>11296266
Hemingway
>>11296482
Camus
>>11297379
Dunno, but it feels familiar.
>>11297436
Pynchon
>>11297482
Cline
>>11298395
Burroughs
>>11299937
Land
>>11301402
Potocki
>>11301572
Joyce
>>11301574
Dunno but I wish I did.
>>11301593
Vonnegut
>>11303982
HST

[Anonymous No.11304331]

A skeleton walks into a bar and orders a beer and a mop.

[Anonymous No.11304420]

A one-armed skeleton holding a sword charges me. I point my double-barrel shotgun at him and get ready to shoot.

[Anonymous No.11304449]

I met a punk ass skellyton,
He bum-rushed me with his skelly-run.
Nigga drew a blade so I blasted with my skelly-gun.

[Anonymous No.11304661]

>>11304280
>pynchon

yea

[Anonymous No.11304802]

>>11290826
undescribable horrors

[Anonymous No.11304948]

So in the dream there's this skeleton. Like a calcium white figure. And the skeleton's got this sword. And it's just like looking at me. So there's this skeleton, and I'm freaked out of my mind, like charging at me with this calamitous sword, and I've got this shotgun. Like a double-barrel shotgun aimed directly at him. It's like something out of a movie. But it feels real, like there's actually this bony caricature charging at me, and I'm scared shitless, and I'm supposed to shoot at him with this double-barrel rifle. And then I wake up. And I feel like this dream has like significance. like it's symbolic or something. You ever get that feeling? Like something means a whole lot to everything and everyone but you just can't put your finger on it. That's how this dream is to me.

[Anonymous No.11306011]

It was a hot summer night.
Everyone was sleeping soundly.
Unfortunately, the skeleton didn't give a shit.

[Anonymous No.11307344]

there was a skeleton and i shot it, the end.

[Anonymous No.11307479]

The skeleton [1] came charging at me with a sword [2]. I aimed my gun. I didn’t miss [3].
[1] Around 6’11”
[2] The sword was of European build. The hilt was cruciform, making it odd for the skeleton to hold it with one hand. The blade was worn down with the ages, several small dents lined its edge, perhaps millennia older than the skeleton himself*.
[3] That may not be entirely true.


*Or herself

[Anonymous No.11307516]

>>11304802

But it is.