FLASH FICTION THREAD

File: 72 KB, 600x400, PARKS-AND-RECREATION-Telethon.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

FLASH FICTION THREAD BelleAndLilSebastian !!DpfF9riVhsM Mon Oct 15 15:14:35 2012 No.3060469 [Reply] [Original]

FLASH FICTION THREAD

Roll for prompt;

0: A story that centers around two children in a sandbox
1: Write a non-noir story in a noirish style
2: Imitate the style of the last story or novel you read
3: A story involving a character with multiple-personality disorder
4: Whatever you want, but no swear words, and no colloquialisms.
5: Whatever you want, but only use monosyllabic words.
6: Body Horror. BONUS: Incorporate stream of consciousness narration SUPER BONUS: Keep it tasteful and atmospheric
7: Choose your favorite public figure currently living. Now tell a story where they do something unforgivably awful to you.
8: Tell a story in three paragraphs that spans seventy years.
9: Tell a story where the protagonist never leaves their seated position
ANY DUBS: Apply this to whichever number is rolled, but the entire story must be written in broken english
ANY TRIPS: You can use any given word no more than three times.
ANY QUADS: Free Choice.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:17:56 2012 No.3060478 le rolling

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:18:12 2012 No.3060480 fuck that le rolling again

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:18:19 2012 No.3060481 .......... I'll just wait a while

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:21:33 2012 No.3060488 Das rollen.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:23:20 2012 No.3060494 English is my third language but fuck it. Roll.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:30:04 2012 No.3060511 >>3060469

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:31:50 2012 No.3060513 nice. i like it. epic. im rolling.

>>	FuckYou !!Zq4TcxXT8By Mon Oct 15 15:33:38 2012 No.3060517 rolling

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:35:59 2012 No.3060526 for great justice

Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:36:01 2012 No.3060528

>>3060513

hey you
who me?
no you
waitwut
excuse me are you talking to me?
nobody's talkin to you, buddy
well, there's no rea --
listen. what did you want?
sorry wh --
i said wh --
just listen in the future, you wanna listen
yes, so --
i came here for the ladies

__________________________________________________

thats my story :3 do u like it?

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:55:08 2012 No.3060564 File: 103 KB, 700x552, buchfühl.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] lets roll

part 1 FuckYou !!Zq4TcxXT8By Mon Oct 15 15:56:54 2012 No.3060569
File: 115 KB, 395x288, Ron Paul lonely.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Parking my car in the lot, I checked the address one more time.
The hastily penciled words were the same: 12 Irvington Plaza. I realized the writing resembled the creases of my collared shirt more than the penmanship of any functioning human, but I was in a rush, I told myself. It's not every day that Ron Paul makes a surprise visit to your shitty college's bookstore. My eyes fell to the bottom corner of the torn paper. It certainly said 11 am, though I didn't bother finishing the last hump of the m-- 11an it was, or was it? Where is everyone?
I fumbled my keys into a pocket and walked towards the door. The lights were on, and the crude sign welcoming the senator was still up. I pushed the doors open and scanned the room.
An older patron was questioning the clerk about some textbooks-- a professor, maybe. I looked at Sam, who returned my curious look with rolled eyes. I smiled, and continued towards a desk at the far corner of the store.
Was that him?

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 15:57:24 2012 No.3060574 9 get

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 16:01:14 2012 No.3060584 rolling

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 16:02:02 2012 No.3060593 Let's do this

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 16:02:14 2012 No.3060587 >>3060569 inb4 Romney endorcment.

Anonymous Mon Oct 15 16:06:37 2012 No.3060599

>>3060593
That was the day. Miss Daisy, my dear love. I would probably botch our first date, but it doesn't matter. I had to try to control my dual soul and bond with that fair lady, even if the consequences could never be forseen.

"Hello Mr. Brown, how are you?"
"I'm fine. Let's go on a date?"
"Yes."

That night, she was dead.

Anonymous Mon Oct 15 16:32:11 2012 No.3060678

>>3060564
It was the last night before the mission. The brothel was full of greased torpedos in a target-rich environment. "I am not in the condition to procreate." said the old German U-Boat captain. He had drunk too many alcoholic beverages and lost the ability to walk upright. His friend and fellow Captain of U-96 helped him reach the toilet where he could get some rest.
Meanwhile a beautiful lady walked among the tables and sung something that was probably supposed to be a sensual chanson. But the lyrics came out of her mouth like a greasy sausage falling out of a hot-dog bun. The seamen sitting at - or lying under - the tables were not great music connoisseurs anyway. They emitted sounds of enthusiasm and also complimented the lady for her well proportioned body. The end of the chanson was met with standing ovations. One of the men gave her a spontanoues champaigne shower as a symbol for his appreciation.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 16:36:34 2012 No.3060694 O LE' DO IT

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 18:03:19 2012 No.3060955 >>3060469

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 18:06:19 2012 No.3060962 social slysive

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 19:12:57 2012 No.3061160 Rollin

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 19:18:29 2012 No.3061180 File: 179 KB, 500x191, dicebox.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Anonymous Mon Oct 15 19:28:19 2012 No.3061210

>>3061180

So I'm sitting one day in the sand-box with this guy they call Monkey Dave. I don't know why his folks call him Monkey, I guess they think it's cute or whatever. They're the flaky sort - all braided hair and oats. you know the kind.

Anyway, Monkey's kind of a disturbed kid on account of his fucked-up parents, so I never like it when my folks put me in the sandbox with him. But what can you do? You can't walk out, so you play the hand you're dealt.

Over the year, I've been put in the box with some real mooks - there was Jackie Black, he was a hitter, liked to slap, and he didn't mind if a girl took the knuckle. I straightened him out pretty quick after Agniewska accidentally clopped him with a bucket.

You get slapped by a lady when I'm around, then you take it and you like it if you know what's good for you, I told him.

Slappy Jack don't come round here any more, and that Agniewska has legs all the way up to her diaper, and the way she sucks a pacifier would make a rabbi kick over a menorah.

But like I say, mostly I play nice, even with a dum-dum like Monkey Dave. I was sharing my bucket like a motherfucker, these broads all cooing over my development and so forth, when Monkey Dave comes creeping over to my side of the box, talking out of the side of his mouth in a way that never did nobody no good.

Anonymous Mon Oct 15 19:38:37 2012 No.3061237

>>3061210

I need you to find something for me, he hissed. He sounded like everyone who's ever seen a movie sounds when they think they're being inconspicuous.

Why not put on a neon sign?

What?

I ignored him, told him to go over to the other side of the box, I'd meet him there. Hey, I didn't like the schmuck, but a job is a job, and sitting doing doody in my pants while making a funny face wasn't going to buy Agniewska any rusks, know what I mean?

I head over to where Monkey's waiting. I'm not actually so good at walking, so it took me a while to slide and fall my way across to the corner. All the while, my dumb-ass folks are taking pictures, flashbulbs lighting me up like a passover candle, way to blow my cover, moms.

I plunk my ass down by monkey, hopefully hiding how out of breath I am. I look down at my gut, hanging out over my pamper, and remember when I could outrun a fish.

So what's the deal, Monkey? I ask him. I fish a teething biscuit out of my shirt and break it in half, give him one piece. It's important to keep a client relaxed or they just start babbling and gurgling all over the place.

I need you to find something, he says, gums working around the biscuit. Something of mine. Something important that I lost.

You're telling me a yutz like you ever had anything valuable, Monkey? Pull the other one, it's got booties on it.

For real, he says. I was onto something big man, right here in the sandbox, and someone took it from me.

So what is it?

I can't tell you man, but I can tell you that you'll know it when you find it, and I'll reward you handsomely, very handsomely, when you find it.

I was doubtful, who wouldn't be, but the thought of Agniewska in some of those new pull-down Huggies with the little pink rabbits on the side made me forget that I was a sensible guy, and made me think Hey this will make me a little scratch.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 19:41:09 2012 No.3061244 >implying i will write shit

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 19:42:09 2012 No.3061248 roll

Anonymous Mon Oct 15 19:55:29 2012 No.3061284

>>3061248
He cried at birth. Another baby, blood red, fighting internally against the sharp sterile air in a maternity ward.

His mother smiled. She had seen his eyes before when she was a girl in the only photo of her father's childhood.

He was happy then, outside the church. The priest had promised him eternal life, and life was still new.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 19:56:29 2012 No.3061287 This thread is relevant to my interests.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 20:07:06 2012 No.3061311 rollin band

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 20:09:06 2012 No.3061313 File: 53 KB, 191x220, cheekpuff.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>3061210 >would make a rabbi kick over a menorah. never heard that one before. I lul'd.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 20:13:28 2012 No.3061323 rollin

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 20:19:53 2012 No.3061330 rall

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 20:21:11 2012 No.3061333 >>3061330 Two kids played in a sandbox one afternoon. One of them was a boy, the other a girl. The girl proceeded to insert a small marital aid into the boys penis hole.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 20:23:59 2012 No.3061337 le rolling faec xDdD

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 20:24:30 2012 No.3061338 previous roll was hella gay

>>	BelleAndLilSebastian !!DpfF9riVhsM Mon Oct 15 20:25:32 2012 No.3061342 >>3061210 >>3061237 The winner of the thread so far, by dozens of hectares

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 20:29:38 2012 No.3061356 roll!

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 20:35:48 2012 No.3061370 rolling

p1 Mon Oct 15 21:28:24 2012 No.3061470 [DELETED]

0: A story that centers around two children in a sandbox

“It’s funny how the kids all use different names for the same ways the play on the playground” David was feeling very reflective these days. Perhaps it was the unavoidable vision of himself in his new son, Sam that demanded reflection. Sarah sighed in recognition as that’s the only way she really could think to respond to such statement. They both sat in stillness and silence on the bench for adults, watching the children play ‘don’t touch the ground’ or some loose variation.

It felt strange being back at this particular park. It was ‘his’ park, a short stroll from his old family house and was where he spent a lot of time in his early youth. His earliest ‘youth’ that he was just barely able to recall now, perhaps as it held the fondest of his memories. It was here that he was first punched with love by a little girl with dirty blonde hair like the one playing alone with Sam in the sand near the swings.

And now, sitting here with his wife, watching his son play as he did, it was as though he was making a Venn diagram of full circles, as it were, self-actualizing while creating new memories with his new family.

p2 Mon Oct 15 21:30:27 2012 No.3061474

>>3061470
“How curious that they teach us how to read hieroglyphs in elementary school” Sarah had pulled out a contraption from Sam’s backpack made of two circles of paper held together by a spindled paperclip in the center. It was used to translate hieroglyphic script into English letters, or maybe vice versa. David exhaled sharply through his nose as though to end a laugh, but he had not laughed and it was only a gesture. It was a gesture his father used to make, and it felt right to do it now. He examined it and bounced it in his hand a little but didn’t spin it or make any attempt to experiment before putting it back in Sam’s un-zippered bag.

Sam and the little girl had managed to climb on to separate swings but being so tiny, they were hardly able to gain momentum let alone properly sit on the swing. David noticed the anxious look on Sarah’s face and got up to intervene. Sarah watched as David picked both children up and placed them on the swing designed to hold toddlers and pushed them. Sarah smiled as she watched, occasionally catching David’s eye and giggling at him. It was the happiest she’s ever felt in her whole life, she thought.

When the Sam and his friend had gained a good swing and were frightened to go any higher, David flopped down beside Sarah and placed his arm around her shoulder. She rested the side of her head on his right breast and they sat there watching the swings crossing each other at different paces. Sarah noticed that the patterns of their breath had aligned and were double dating.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 21:31:29 2012 No.3061475 please stop this is stupid

Anonymous Mon Oct 15 21:34:18 2012 No.3061483

>>3061356
>6: Body Horror. BONUS: Incorporate stream of consciousness narration SUPER BONUS: Keep it tasteful and atmospheric

While witnessing my own dissection, I notice something funny. This gristle hangs, spins like a locket where my heart used to be. I watch the enclosure struggle, reach. My hands come together over the hole as I realize I was always that figurine I prayed to as a girl, with her sad, complicit eyes.

Probably shit. Whatevs.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 22:07:13 2012 No.3061531 >>3061475 This is the best thread on /lit/ right now.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 22:13:16 2012 No.3061543 Roel

Anonymous Mon Oct 15 22:23:20 2012 No.3061563

>>3061543
3:
The doctor sighed. It had been weeks without progress, and he was becoming frustrated.
"Alan, please try to focus."
"I'm trying, doc."
"Good. We'll try again, so please think hard: are there any holes in your memory? Have you ever woken up and found out a day, or a week have passed?"
"That's silly, doc. Sure, I'll daydream every now and then, but nothing like that."
"What about voices? Do they ever talk to you? Ask you questions?"
"Doc, I'm not crazy."
"I never said you were."
"Look, I think it'd be best if we were done for the day."
Alan collected his things and walked out of the office. The doctor paused a moment in the hallway to prepare his umbrella - it was raining outside - before proceeding down the stairs.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 22:42:14 2012 No.3061605 Roland

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 22:46:01 2012 No.3061615 k

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 22:50:00 2012 No.3061625 He held the wet ball of flesh. In time, he would make a fine dad to his boy. Just far too much time to do good for the man he would be.

Anonymous Mon Oct 15 23:50:26 2012 No.3061746

Rolled a 2
A Farewell to arms.
" Oh darling I'll miss you."
" Oh dead don't."
" I can't."
" Oh dear please don't miss me terribly so."
" I don't know."
" Dear, please promise not to miss me terribly so."
" O.K."
" Thank you darling."
We watched the sun rise and decided to go watch the horse races to-morrow. Instead I played billiards with a German fellow with a nice little surgical instrument used to circumcise Jewish boys. He was a grand old man. He liked to write, but wasn't too grand at it. When he asked me to read some I set it aside and told him it was grand.
We lived in a nice little cottage on the steppes that overlooked the coast. Our room led out to a nice balcony that would give us a few of the hills and showed us the wonders of nature. I shat in a cup and fried it for breakfast.

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 23:56:36 2012 No.3061755 >>3061746 I fucking lold

>>	Anonymous Mon Oct 15 23:58:29 2012 No.3061760 Rollan

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 00:21:18 2012 No.3061822 henryrolling

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 00:24:19 2012 No.3061828 Rolling

>>	Zenjiro !MdF2kQevPY Tue Oct 16 00:37:20 2012 No.3061855 Rolling.

>>	The Berserking Badgerman !nCpSAxk8YQ Tue Oct 16 00:42:21 2012 No.3061864 Badgeroll.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 00:48:21 2012 No.3061873 barrel roll

The Berserking Badgerman !nCpSAxk8YQ Tue Oct 16 00:50:21 2012 No.3061878

>>3061864
He always looked so smug, even after I had beaten him. Despite his legs being broken, he sat calmly and looked rather collected except for that sly grin. He knew that it would just continue back and forth like this for all time. The villain who kills the people and the hero who foils him. He drummed his fingers, waiting for me to turn him over to the police.

I opted for a different strategy, evident by the detective's discovery of the body minutes later.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 00:53:21 2012 No.3061884 rolling

Zenjiro !MdF2kQevPY Tue Oct 16 00:53:21 2012 No.3061886

>>3061855
>Oh boy. This will be fun.
I is on to bus. Dog run front bus. Dog get hit with bus. Bus dies. Dog feel bad. Dog cry. Man walk to dog and say don't sad dog I here now. Dog look up to man and man is man that dog used to be dog for. Man take dog home. Dog wag tail to and fro till his tail can't wag more. Dog tail no wag still. But dog still has joy. Man feed dog food from can, it is beef taste. Dog think beef taste is best taste. At least better than fish taste. Man read dog night time book and dog go sleep. Man go sleep too.
They wake next day feel good. Man feed dog more food. Beef food. Yum. Make take dog for walk. Man take dog to chink town. Dog know man try sell dog for cash for food. Dog no want be food. Dog run far and fast to get out of chink town. Dog get out of town and see a old man on side road. Dog walk up to man. "Hi old man" says dog. "Hi dog" says man. Dog sees man has no home and has a hot flame barrel and box sleep in.
Dog thinks of time where he been here before. Old man was drunk and drive and hit dogs old man. Dogs old man dies. New man feel bad and is now a no home man that drink beer all day. He call self "No Home Joe."
No Home Joe was bus drive guy. Bus drive into dog. Bus dies. Dog sees dead guys.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 00:58:21 2012 No.3061900 Rolling 'em then.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:00:10 2012 No.3061905 File: 630 KB, 320x179, DAYUM.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] fuck dna, what's my slogan? zip'em up

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:03:43 2012 No.3061916 >>3061873 Tried writing the same thing about three times. Not working. Reroll.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:06:17 2012 No.3061921 Rowlin'

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:09:06 2012 No.3061927 H-here I go.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:09:52 2012 No.3061928 File: 106 KB, 530x759, rawhide.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] Rolin' rollin' rollin' Keep them doggies rollin' Rawhide!

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:23:11 2012 No.3061945
File: 196 KB, 500x491, ECCO THE DOLPHIN PANICS IN THE MACHINE.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>3061905

"the fuck you do that for, shine?"

'I UNNO MAINE, I UNNO KNOW BUT FUCK IF IT AIN'T FEEL GOOD!'

"got dayum K, why you do dat to da nig?"

'I GO OFF, REX! I GO OFF!'

roomed in a five star by what strip stays for night time, K and T grab big weight like a kilo ton, band up their fat wads, and bounce down to La Cine in light of A HAT's rhyme beef. K just kilt Nov, so that takes up his, Rex and Mook's talk. they drink sum rum and think.

"Yo, why you do him like that K?" said Mook, not in the know.

"I did it 'cuz I cud, B! I cud! I fucked that nigga up, B! Fucked him up, B! KILT THAT NIGGA, MOOK! BODY! BODY! BODY! ZIP HIM UP!"

Shine yelled so damn loud the whole bar held their talk in a min. and some folks blushed red at the two poor black men sacked with his 'tism for the whole day.

"Yo, shine, you ever keep ya win RAR down, B?" said Rex, eye over on them white chicks locked on his ear skin bulb.

Shine stared at Rex like he just said Mac beat P C, then let loose with, "FUCK THAT SHIT, WHAT'S MY SLOGAN?! ZIP'EM UP!"

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:25:03 2012 No.3061948

>>3061916
The boy's decrepit state was beyond revolting. His body was as though it'd been waterlogged for an extensive period of time. It reminded her of a corpse enclosed in a plastic bag, rotting in a sun-baked, parasitic marsh.
His movements were jerky-- not robotic, but almost seizure-like. His eyes, piercing and unblinking, most of his eyelids rotted away. His skin was peppered with blotches that looked soupy, yellow bone exposed on his fingers and parts of his ribs. Tattered, thin fabric barely managed to cling to his emaciated form.
He stumbled towards her, his gurgling, broken voice mumbling out incoherent rasps, his blackened lips curling back, exposing rotting, broken teeth and swollen, inflamed gums. His ankles looked as though they could snap as he lurched forward with every heavy shuffle of his legs. A whole side of his head had an open, throbbing wound, pus freely oozing from it. A green, murky film covered the opening, as well, blood bubbling from any place it could, slopping to the tile floor.
Soon, he reached the short girl, her body frozen in terror, reached out a trembling, slimy hand, and rested it on her shoulder. In a flash, she screamed and swung out. His frail container's bones shattered on impact of both her hand and the floor, face left more unrecognizable as before, eyes rolling from their cracked sockets. Soggy, half-melted goop of brains splattered on the ground and crimson quickly pooled at her feet as he grotesque boy's jaw shuddered, still attempting to form speech, limbs twitching in awkward, unnatural positions.
She vomited and ran.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:44:15 2012 No.3061989 >>3061948 bored, rerollan

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:45:15 2012 No.3061994 rollllllllinging

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:46:18 2012 No.3061996 rerolllin

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:48:18 2012 No.3062000 >>3060469 roll into the heavens

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:49:18 2012 No.3062003 J.K.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:50:18 2012 No.3062004 Rollan

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:52:19 2012 No.3062012

>>3062003
There two people in sandbox, k? One say "you know America go Osama house?"

"No way."
"Yes. They shoot Osama, they shoot his wife, his son.."
"No. You lie."
"Believe. I promise you on this sandbox" He picks up sand and drops it.
"Wow. I hope America safe now."
"I hope."

The End

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:54:18 2012 No.3062016 might as well

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 01:57:18 2012 No.3062021 J.K. again for funsies!

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:01:18 2012 No.3062035

>>3062021
Her tits were black as coffee. New territory for me, for my kind. About to wrap my lips around those sweet African nipples, she asks me in that raspy drawl, "Can you handle both, big daddy?" I took my cigarette and blew smoke from the corner of my mouth. I smiled at her, "I'll take the case."

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:03:15 2012 No.3062040

>>3062000
The second child arrived, somewhat late. He who had come first was already playing, molding sand, digging, scattering it about. She, later of the two, joined him, entering, sitting down, sliding hands into cool sand, wriggling fingers underneath.

There, under sand, was Boltron, robot of Mars. Upon her touch, they rose up, exiting, flying into air, taking children with him. Two would suffice to save Mars. Vacuum was no threat. Martian science conquered vacuum long ago. Soon, Boltron arrived on Mars.

So imagined the children, anyways. Boltron was dead, and Mars with him.

And this is why writers use words more than three times.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:05:15 2012 No.3062045 [spoilers]they see me[/spoilers] rollin'

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:05:15 2012 No.3062047 not what i wanted, rerool

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:16:31 2012 No.3062065

>>3061989
"Damned English. Damned disgusting, blotchy pen. Damned desk with one leg shorter than the rest that made it rock with the slightest shift of weight. Dam--" A noise interrupted my thoughts of abominable hatred towards nearly every obstacle that forced its way into my first class of the day, on an earnest mission to piss me off. It was... buzzing. Like a metallic mosquito zipping at the back of my mind. I looked around, shifting in my desk, resulting in a noticeable knocking noise of the leg tapping the floor, Thomas, an old friend that happened to have the class with me, glancing at me from my left. It was behind me.
Some tacky, two-bit moron had his ear-buds in with the volume up so loud anybody within two seats' radius of him could probably hear the music. His black hair slicked back, he was dressed up like a typical wannabe. The uneducated, smug type. He caught my glance and flashed his electric blue eyes at me.
I turned back to my work and rolled my eyes once he couldn't see.
Mrs. Bellflower got up from her desk and strode through the rows of desks (though, not before quickly checking a roster of students, it still being such an early time of the year that she hadn't gotten to know many of them), her flamboyant red hair bound up in a bun. Her sharp eyes locked on the guy behind me as she came to a halt, her black heels clicking menacingly. "Gregory Glass," she said, her words clipped, "Turn it off and put it away, now." His eyes lazily met hers, and he took out the ear-buds, the little electric wires flopping to his shoulders. "I said turn it off, Mr. Glass."

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:17:33 2012 No.3062067

>>3062065
He shrugged and sighed, fumbling with some buttons on a little device before swiping it back into his bag. The teacher questioned him about his lack of paper and writing utensil. The class was writing short narratives for the first week we had legitimate work. He snorted, an arrogance permeating the air around him. By now a good chunk of the class had their prying eyes on him.
"I'm done, Miss," he breathed, casually.
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Bellflower retorted, this Gregory clown clearly getting on her last nerve.
He gave her the look of someone that's being bothered to spell something out for a simpleton. "I've completed my writing assignment." He paused. "In fact, wrote three of them." He grinned wryly and went on about the content of his stories-- the characters, the plots, conflicts, and colorful imagery. As if to mock her. And everyone else in the class. Belittle their speed and intelligence.
Mrs. B was a good seven shades of red by the time he was done. "If you're so smart, you can march yourself down to Mr. Martinez and show him your 'work', Gregory."

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:18:33 2012 No.3062069

>>3062067
He snorted again and got up, slinging his bag across his shoulders and doing exactly that. Something told me, though, he wasn't going to the Principal's office. But before waltzing his content ass out of the room, he flashed me a wink and a toothy grin. I felt myself shrink down in my seat as a few people around me turned their gazes towards me. I could feel the flush bloom on my cheeks. I don't know why. The guy was disgusting.
A week later, a wadded up ball of paper found its way on my desk. I opened it quietly, trying to keep it from crinkling.
"FAGGOT"

Agh, crap, sorry for this. This is such junk. Oh well.

>>	BelleAndLilSebastian !!DpfF9riVhsM Tue Oct 16 02:18:33 2012 No.3062070 >>3062040 yeah, in retrospect, that requirement was more obnoxious than fun, sorry bout that

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:28:33 2012 No.3062094 >>3062070 It could work better if it was just a monologue.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:32:33 2012 No.3062104

>>3061928
Be gentle.

The small of your back glistened, sticky-sweet from our vigorous exertion. There was no excuse this time; my family would surely disown me, and worse, the Royal Society would refuse to hear my dissertation on the new AI routines. You stirred in your sleep, dreaming perhaps? Jezebel. That’s what they called you when we first walked in. You’re going straight to hell for wanton acts of sin, they said. To their surprise, they were taken further aback when I told them you were a synthetic. The looks of horror, disdain, and disgust nearly broke me, but you were my retreat.
They called you Jezebel for what you like to wear. You’re beauty and grace surpassed all those around you. But they persisted; you’re morally unwell they told me and how could I ever see your appeal?Whenever men walked by, they say saidl the look in your eyes was real, but that you’d never care for me just the same. As time passed, I knew your games were the key. You told me the truth, not in so many words, but through your actions. You could hear their words, their judgements, and you could take the heat of their scorn and shield me from the worst of it. You opened their eyes to the beauty, opened my heart to the fun and opened their minds to the idea that you don’t own someone.
And at the end of my lifetime, the world is changed. Jezebel, you changed it. Where once there was nothing but disdain, there is now respect. Their rejection, chiseled by your long-fought efforts, transformed into acceptance. Our moral, political and physical struggles took their toll on me. But I can rest assured as I live out my final days, that you and your manufactured progeny are free; free from moral judgement and free to pursue Life. I take my final breath as you gaze upon me. I am swimming in the beauty of your eyes and I feel loved.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:32:33 2012 No.3062105 >>3062069 eh, the scene and Gregory are derivative, but the voice is solid. there's a flow going.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:39:35 2012 No.3062123 Rollin

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 02:45:36 2012 No.3062134 >>3062105 How's >>3061948 ? I feel that one's a much better text.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 03:16:40 2012 No.3062185

>>3062134
I don't really into horror, but this is what i thought:
it wasn't a story as much as just a description of the monster with a sentence about a girl tacked on at the end. subject matter is "cool," the description is great--really well worded, but I might as well have been reading a spec sheet for a '65 Mustang. even if it had been written by Lovecraft, it's still a spec sheet for a '65 Mustang.
OK, so it's just posts on 4chan, but the one about G Glass, despite derivative tropes, had OK writing and something happened. there was a feel. the horror one needs expansion but again, I'm not really into horror

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 03:17:40 2012 No.3062186 maybe, just maybe captcha: >finitely Lndment

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 03:22:45 2012 No.3062195 why not?

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 03:32:45 2012 No.3062208 roooooooooooll

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 03:39:49 2012 No.3062221 rrrrrrrrroooooling

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 03:40:49 2012 No.3062223 get ready for a steaming pile of shit

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 03:51:20 2012 No.3062226 rolling

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 03:52:21 2012 No.3062229 rollin' it up

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 03:59:21 2012 No.3062237

>>3062229
"Jerry," Margaret took a drag from her cigarette. Jerry knew where this was going before she even called asking if she could come over. The smoke fell lazily from her lips for a moment before she forced the rest out in one blow.
"Jerry, I'm leaving."
"I assumed you would."
"And it's not because of what you think," she said, quickly, blurting it out as if to cut him off though he had finished speaking. "It's because of your job."
"Margaret," Jerry began, before briefly losing his train of thought as he noticed a cockroach crawling up the ceiling. "I'll be frank with you. Can I be frank with you?"
He looked at her and waited angrily for a response. Annoyed, used to his condescending demeanor, she nodded impatiently and took another drag from her cigarette.
"Then allow me to be frank: I don't care. I don't care that you're leaving, I don't care why you're leaving, and I don't care what you think about my job."
She nodded.
"Jerry, come take a walk with me."
"That's not funny. You fucking bitch, that's not funny."
He threw his water at her. "You get the fuck out," he shouted.
See, Jerry was confined to a wheelchair, and Margaret was always a huge bitch.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 04:19:23 2012 No.3062255

>>3062237
And might as well use this as a role for option 7, though I'm basing my public figure less on who I'd call my favorite and more on who I like a lot and want to write this story about.

"Oh, Alex, look over there," my mother pointed out the window of the car as we drove by a big, gated home. "Mr. T lives in that house."
Looking back, it's almost funny how stupid a moment, driving to Target on a Saturday and seeing his house, was the moment that marked the beginning of what would be the cruelest portion of my life.
"Who's that?" I asked. And so she told me. And so I listened. I listened to stories about "The A-Team" and about how he was a wrestler and about how he even fought Rocky Balboa. I watched every episode of "The A-Team" and every movie he was ever in and I found myself with a dream. A simple dream to some, but the best thing I could ever hope for.
That one day when I went to that Target, I might run into Mr. T.
So it served as a paralyzingly exciting moment when I saw him holding up a cantaloupe and inspecting it.
(continued)

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 04:20:23 2012 No.3062260

>>3062255
(continued)
I timidly approached, unsure at first as he wore a wool knit cap that covered his unmistakable, iconic T-shaped mohawk.
"Hello," I squeaked, horrified. He glanced at me, then returned his gaze to his cantaloupe.
"This look funny to you?" he pointed to a small blotch on the cantaloupe's skin.
"I, uh, I don't really know, does it matter if it's on the outside?" He immediately shot me a disgusted, angry look and dropped the cantaloupe to the floor with a thud.
"Course it fucking matters. The fuck kind of idiot doesn't think it matters?"
"I'm sorry, sir."
"You come over here because you know I'm the T?"
"I, uh, yes?" I was shaking.
"Is that a question? 'Cause I can't answer that for you, son."
"Yes," I blurted.
(continued)

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 04:21:23 2012 No.3062262

>>3062260

He nodded, and scanned me up and down.
"Come with me," he gestured to follow him, and so I did. We walked to a restroom in the pharmaceutical section.
"Why are we-"
"Drop your pants," he pulled out a knife. I dropped my pants to my ankles. "I see you staring at my house, whitey. All you fucking assholes been watchin' the T. 'Oooh, that nigga cut down his trees, let's kick him out,' they said. I know better. Nobody wants a fucking wealthy black man 'less he play basketball. Michael Jordan could fuckin' mow the rain forest, but T takes down a tree that's obstructing his property and they call to get him out."
He wrapped a rubberband around my genitals and I felt an immediate tugging sting.
"All you cracka assholes think we forgot about whatchu did to my people, I remind you, foo," and even in this moment of horror, hearing him use his iconic phrase brought a smile to my face. He cut my scrotum open, but I could only feel a numb pressure. I blacked out.
I woke up by a dumpster outside of Target late at night. My pants were crusty with blood and my testicles were missing. To say the least, meeting Mr. T wasn't really all I hoped it would be. I don't go to that Target anymore.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 04:24:25 2012 No.3062265 >>3062208 I was about to do it, but the last thing I read was a nukige. I wrote up a bunch of dirty smut then I realized that I wasn't even having fun writing in first person about being forced to drink dirty orgre smega.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 04:35:04 2012 No.3062274

0: A story that centers around two children in a sandbox
“It’s funny how the kids all use different names for the same games they play on the playground”

David was feeling very reflective these days. Perhaps it was the undeniable, apprehending cognition of himself that he was finding in his new son, Samuel that demanded constant reflection of his own life. Sarah sighed in recognition, the only way she could think to respond. They both sat in stillness and silence on the park bench constructed specifically for adults. Neither having anything to say; they just sat and cross their legs and watched the children play ‘don’t touch the ground’ or some loose variation.

It felt strange being back at this particular park. “Radenhurst Park”, he sighed in a conscious way that Sarah wouldn’t make anything of it. This had been his park. A short stroll from his old family house and was where he spent a lot of time in his early youth, his earliest youth perhaps. That with which he could just barely recall now, maybe because it held the fondest of his memories. It was here where he was first punched with love by a little girl with hair like the one playing with Samuel in the sand near the swings. Though they had erected a new plastic, safer looking main playing section, the swing set was the same.

And now, sitting here with his wife, watching his son play just as he did, it was as though he was making a Venn diagram of full circles, reminiscing while creating new memories.

someonereadthis Tue Oct 16 04:36:04 2012 No.3062275

>>3062274
“How curious that they teach us how to read hieroglyphs in elementary school” Sarah had pulled out a contraption from Samuel’s backpack made of two circles of paper held together by a spindled paperclip in the center. It was used to translate English letters into hieroglyphic script. David exhaled sharply through his nose as though to end a laugh, but he had not laughed and it was only a smug gesture. It was a gesture his father used to make, and it felt right to do it now. He examined the cipher, bouncing it in his hand a little but didn’t spin it or make any attempt to experiment before putting it back in Samuel’s un-zippered bag.

Samuel and the little girl had managed to climb on to separate swings but being so tiny, they were hardly able properly sit on the swing let alone gain momentum. David noticed the anxious look on Sarah’s face and got up to intervene. Sarah watched as David picked both children up and placed them on the swings designed to fit smaller kids and began pushing them in turns. Sarah smiled as she watched, occasionally catching David’s eye and quietly giggling at him but mostly to herself. She felt her cheek muscles become tense from smiling and she wondered if she had been forcing herself to.

When Samuel and his friend had gained a good swing and were too frightened to go any higher, David returned down beside Sarah and placed his arm around her shoulder. She moved close to him and rested the side of her head on him. Placing her ear inside his open jacket on his right chest, they sat watching the swings crossing each other at different places. Sarah noticed that the rates of their breath had aligned to move in complete synchrony - double dating, or so she called it in her internal monologue.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 04:38:04 2012 No.3062277 File: 15 KB, 220x218, Rollins_Band_-_The_End_of_Silence.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] Henry rollins band

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 04:39:57 2012 No.3062279 File: 43 KB, 230x363, hahahaha.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>3062262 This is fucking golden

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 04:57:13 2012 No.3062297 >>3062265 why didn't you finish it then you faggot. this thread needs more ogre smega.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 05:00:14 2012 No.3062305
File: 510 KB, 648x529, Mad_magazine_computer.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>3060599
He clicks the words,
He says the image
The sounds type forth from his keyboard like a night train dipped in fire,
He makes no sense, because I am he, sitting here before the world,
Before my world
For all my worldly learnings, and wordy leanings
I know not what else to do.
So instead I surf /lit/
And give my critical assessment
Of poorly written, badly judged, misspelt, illfelt, sour smelt smut of faux fiction.
Fictional foes of poorly written prose
And underdeveloped poems incorrectly punctuated,
Nauseatingly truncated forms of semifashionable, unreasonable, barely readable unrhyming clauses

Latent pauses

Devoid of any story,
Any interest,
Any care.
'Why would I care?'
I scream, from my comfy chair,
They can't touch me here,
But my witty criticism,
My learned cynicism,
It touches them,
It teaches them.
And now they know

And sitting there in my armoured chair
A world for which I could never care
flashed past my bare eyes and naked knees.
I could not keep my face from these cold, tastless lines
these baseless lies,
this facesless life I now lead.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 05:07:34 2012 No.3062320 rolling, will start after i fap and eat breakfast. or am i supposed to have no time to think about this and just write?

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 05:08:37 2012 No.3062324 Rolling.. I'm beginning to thing I need a prompt to write anything nowadays

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 05:36:27 2012 No.3062373 Rolling mahfuckas

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 05:46:29 2012 No.3062391 File: 19 KB, 350x280, Humphrey_Bogart.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] if you are a quitter, dont roll. simple.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 06:05:14 2012 No.3062423 May as well roll. I can't write well anyway.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 06:05:14 2012 No.3062424

>>3062391
It was one of these fateful days when you come home early and catch her talking on the phone. And she talks about a very pleasant evening at the cinema. And you quickly realize that you were not part of that evening. Couldnt be, because she describes a different man. Somebody who looks better and has a better sense of humour. An ice cold sensation runs down your spine. You think about the big knife in the kitchen drawer. But you still hope that maybe, just maybe it was something long ago, just a funny anecdote she tells her friend. But she talks about last week. And she keps mentioning how goofy looking and worthless I am compared to this man.
I run up to my room and cry. Mom doesn't love me anymore. I have to leave this hell. Move out and get a job.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 06:11:14 2012 No.3062432

>>3062423
I can feel them pressing, prodding. I know they're there. I've lost time so often. My psych says they're there, so I can't be alone. I can feel them, etching. Crawling. I can't lose my vision. I can't lose me. I have to hide what they've done. The blood is everywhere. She says she can make it all disappear, but I can't trust her. She loves it, she smells it. The taste, she craves it. All over the walls, I'll never get away. I must get away I can't let anybody know they did this. People won't believe me. I can feel them pushing, I must maintain control! It's going dark. I must fight it. I can't see. Who was I?

Oh god, what have they done? This was my psychologist, the poor dear. I can only hope the authorities do what is right. The other two cannot be trusted. He so feeble, her so vengeful. Dear God, end me now.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 06:25:16 2012 No.3062468 roll for spare time

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 06:28:17 2012 No.3062478 >>3062468 reroll, because I am a pussy

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 06:29:16 2012 No.3062481 >>3062468 >>3062478 That's twice now. Write it. Also, hilarious.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 06:40:17 2012 No.3062496 rolling, will do this after lessons

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 06:48:14 2012 No.3062514

>>3062391

I aint no quitter. As I said, I needed to fap and eat breakfast first.

The girl on the left was named Molly. Her mother would drop her off every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon between 1pm and 2:30pm. Molly's mother would usually just plop her down on any corner of the playground and, without a second glance, move to her group of friends to chat and gossip for the next hour and a half. Her entire energy would be spent gabbing about her day so her attention towards her daughter was minimal at best, criminal at worse.

The girl on the right was named Amber. Her father would come by and drop her off at 12:30pm and usually leave between 1-2pm. Unlike Molly's mother, he really had no one or nothing to occupy himself with, other than his daughter of course, but he would often just stare into space, or close his eyes and drift to sleep.

It almost feels too easy, like I've been blessed by a higher power, either above or below, with the perfect storm of child neglect.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 06:48:14 2012 No.3062517

>>3062514

Molly was doing something new today. She was playing at the sandbox, picking up near by leaves and placing them in the sand. She dug out holes and then placed the leaves inside, then, covered the holes back up. I like to think that she's trying to make them grow.

Amber on the other hand was playing a type of see-saw, only it was circular and had seats for four kids to sit in and bounce around. She was alone, but still had a good time.

I wish the two would acknoledge each other. They're both playing alone, on seperate ends of the sandbox. They'd have much more fun if they were together. They could play tag and chase each other around, skirts flying through the air as they ran and stumbled about. Or they could sit cross legged and play games across from each other, clapping their hands on their laps and each other's palms, singing rhymes about flowers and future husbands. Or maybe they could just talk about themselves. Molly could open up to how her mother hates her and her father beats and seek comfort in Amber's arms. Amber could brag about her new dress that her daddy had bought her, or her recent win at the county beauty pageant.

Unfortunately they ignore each other's existance. Time passes and they leave, Amber, and then Molly.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 06:56:13 2012 No.3062530

>>3062478
>fuck

Hi. Believe what you will. Find fullfillement in what ever form feels most substantial. Look for love. Look for self. But most importantly look at the expiry date on milk, trust me, unless you want to travel through time.

Have you ever traveled through time? Don't trust the movies it isn't a field trip to a golden era theme park. you don't appear, boots and all in some other time with a camera around you neck to dazle the neandrathals. Time travel is painful.

Imagine traveling backwards through death to life via a system of digestive systems, all the while being sensorially alive to the smells and textures of an endless series of meals, orgies, I have been fifteen straks, a billion blades of grass, trillions of sperm, 56 ovaries, and three ants, preceeded each time as shit. I guess it was something to do with kama. Fuck you karma I just wanted a bottle of milk that would last the longest, and they always put those at the back of the fridge.

fuck this shit is impossible

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 07:17:51 2012 No.3062551

>>3062530
A valiant effort, but I don't think it fits the criteria. A fun little story nevertheless.

>>3062424
I think you've inverted it. I think you wrote noir in a non-noir style.

>>3062514
>>3062517
I think you wrote about everything but "A story that centers around two children in a sandbox". Good job on creeping me out a little. I thought it was going to be some perv on a bench observing them.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 07:31:11 2012 No.3062559

>>3062530

Reminds me of that story where this middle aged guy dies and meets god and god tells him that he's in an egg and is actually every single person who has ever lived, from his wife, to hitler, and has to experience every life across all time in order to be prepared to be born.

2 Tue Oct 16 07:59:48 2012 No.3062595

Jack and his girlfriend Linda were at a cafe. Below the glass table where they sat their legs were barely touching and on top their hands not at all. Linda deftly tapped at her smart phone and sipped a glass of champagne despite the time -- midday -- while Jack's hands, in lieu of these things, played with each other.

It was Thursday. All of their close friends were leaving for an interstate road trip on Friday.

'You should come,' Linda said again without looking up from her phone.

'No I shouldn't,' Jack replied. 'Not with those people.'

Her eyes shot to him and her fingers stopped. 'They're your friends. Our friends. How is this going to look?'

'Who cares?' When she peered at him he said: 'Put your sunglasses on.'

They had been at the cafe for an hour and had ordered nothing but the champagne and another glass before that, also for Linda. The staff had begun to throw them dirty looks.

'A glass of water?' Jack asked a passing waiter who nodded and soon returned with one. 'Anything else?' He sneered. Jack shook his head.

Linda was staring at him. 'What's your deal?' She asked when the waiter was out of earshot.

'Why are you getting drunk?'

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 08:02:48 2012 No.3062603 >>3062559 title or author?

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 08:13:48 2012 No.3062626 >>3062551 nobody cares about what you think

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 08:37:00 2012 No.3062688 >>3062603 http://www.galactanet.com/oneoff/theegg_mod.html

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 08:39:00 2012 No.3062696 h-here we go!

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 09:06:40 2012 No.3062747 >>3062626 How would you know?

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 09:09:43 2012 No.3062750 >>3062747 How I know? I know these people in my goddamn blood.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 09:10:43 2012 No.3062752 >>3062750 That makes no sense. Are you telling me your family wrote those stories?

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 09:37:19 2012 No.3062790 >>3062688 that was aweful

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 09:38:19 2012 No.3062794 gotta get

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 10:30:02 2012 No.3062892 >>3062794 looks like we got another quitter

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 11:51:13 2012 No.3063014 rollin high

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 11:51:36 2012 No.3063011

>>3062496

I went to the doctor last Thursday. It was quite a fun experience. One can only hope that next Monday at the physio will be as interesting as the psych.

The psych was very interesting in his own way. It all happened on Thursday, but I remember it so vividly, as if I had experienced it all mere minutes ago. The doctor's office was better than the waiting room. That place smelt like decades of nausea. Can't help it though, not everyone finds the psych interesting. Some of them were so jittery they had to be supervised.

I must have dozed off when it was my turn to see the doctor. Semi-rusted board with the little LED things gradually flashing 432, 433, 434, 435, 436, 478. I looked at the rubbery piece of cardboard that passed for a receipt, Appointment No. 478. The staff was kind enough to escort me, but I refused. I told them that I could find the office myself, and they just gave me these perplexing stares. I don't think they heard what I said, since they just hoisted me up by the waist and carried me into the office like a sturdy lumberjack hefts a young log.

Actually, on second thought, perhaps it was a good idea to accept their help. One finds it quite hard to move about while wrapped like a mummy. The doctor looked quite animated. He said something like "Good afternoon, 478. I see you're here for a routine psych test?"

"Yes."

"Ok, it won't be long, just need to find my scalpel...Ah, there it is! Say, you sound a bit different from the rest."

"Really?"

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 11:52:13 2012 No.3063015

>>3063011

"Uh-huh. Now, hold still..."

It was blinding. Incessant bursts of red, white, black, green, like a kaleidoscope of pain. In retrospect, I think I can sympathise with cluster headache sufferers. Felt like a can opener going to town on my head, slowly rending the tissue to shreds, releasing all these little pain flowers all over my body. The whole office was so silent, and I felt as if I was screaming through a thick blanket of helium while drugged, so surreal and disembodied.

I don't remember what happened after that, but I woke up much less agonised. The last headaches were on the verge of drifting off to who knows where, kind of like a tornado uprooting a tree by all but the most stubborn roots. My mouth was wide open, something I realised only when the good doctor dissolved a tablet on the tongue. It felt so good when all my muscles took a well-deserved nap and the vestigial pain faded away.

"Sorry, I forgot the anaesthetics."

"No problem, what's done is done."

"That's right! I wish I had more patients like you. Alright, time for the psych test."

The doctor was nowhere to be seen. Probably behind me, I surmised. There was a sudden squelchy feeling on my head, like hair gel being rubbed and kneaded, only on a- how do I put this?- deeper level.

"Are you new to this?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's my first time taking a psych test."

"First-time patient, huh? You're a rare breed, the rest of them always come in pumped with sedates. Makes the test more inconvenient."

"Say, doc...when I came in here..."

"Yeah?"

"The walls were cream-coloured, right?"

"Yeah."

"It looks better when it's green. Trust me. Red and yellow isn't bad too, and violet's a bit iffy, but it's fine."

"I suppose so."

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 11:57:43 2012 No.3063024

>>3063015

"Doc, why's my head feeling so wet and cold and mushy?"

"Oh, that. No worries, that's just how the psych test wordjcbverovbtx sewnifcnwd vcvhocexcure cfhbivcnrewi."

"Doc? I don't understand what you're saying."

"ixur vcoihjevc voithjvo qwjshsdwi cmogvtroi ewqohgoq vcojoremf"

"Huh?"

"jidrofx,mrx boitjoxe,c bhno wognoxr,wre bghofjwebg vrohfnc. cohrmiuer ucejdk the verbal portion of the test. You're doing fine verbally. No problems. You're a first timer, so you might feel a bit awkward with this." he said, before pushing something into my skull. There was no pain and the cranial layer felt quite soft. There was, however, a mild ticklish feeling as he placed some more of the capsule(?) things inside.

"Only two more things to do." he said. "The penultimate step might hurt a bit."

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 11:58:47 2012 No.3063026

>>3063024

"It's fine, Doc, it's-"

I couldn't finish my sentence, for my teeth clamped down mercilessly on my tongue. When my jaws released their vicegrip it didn't feel like a tongue anymore, just a bulbous fleshy growth. The alien thing hung at the back of my mouth, poised to snap off any moment. I felt a bit intrigued by this.

"Saeh, Duokder, wheye dousunt iee urt?"

"It's the anesthesia."

"Eye seeh."

"No worries, I'll patch that up after everything else is done. Now, just lie down and relax."

"Hurhhurh, Duokder. Arn wapped ah la deh. Ooh deh."

"Oh, yeah..."

After taking me out of the straitjacket, he cuffed my left hand and right leg to the table.

"Eeh dih uh neheeery?"

"Yes, it's necessary. You're doing fine for a first-timer, but regulations are regulations, and precautions are precautions. You might find this next step a bit interesting." he said, whereupon my hands and feet turned into penises. They rose up proud and erect, defying the chains. My heart boomed like a river that had burst its banks, sending all the warm currents into my frail, desiccated body. The penises that weren't still thirsted for more blood, throbbing and shaking furiously like a chicken trying to fly.

They kept spasming like epileptic fits, trembling with an incomprehensible rage and desire. Finally my eyelids kept opening and closing as if there was a naughty kid inside my head playing with blind curtains. Throughout all this, the visceral wetness in my head, nay, my brain, kept squirming in and out, in and out, like worms hastily probing it. Each time those worms dug into my head I could feel them ushering the cold air that quietly whistled beneath all the Swiss cheese.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 11:59:47 2012 No.3063030

>>3063026

My entire body felt as if it were brought to orgasm, with every nerve and blood vessel moving like a busy highway. I could feel all the millions of pinpricks that shot through the skin and into the most tender of muscles. It was like I had become King Kong, or Tarzan, basking in my power. Then I noticed the handcuffs. I realised that they were holding back the full orgasmic bliss that called to me from inside. How irksome, I concluded, before wrenching the chains apart with a flourish of my arms. They didn't; the cuffs stayed on. One fluid movement. Freedom! I yelled, but perhaps only in my mind, as I willed my whole body to stand up and the sockets in my brain were forced out, thrown into darkness.

I woke up seeing the doctor's disapproving countenance. He pointed to the jar sitting on his desk and shook his head. My brain slumbered placidly in the goo shell, oblivious to the array of metallic clips stuck around it.

"Well, 478, we couldn't get a detailed analysis of your mental condition. Still, I suppose that it's quite fine for a first-timer. Most of them don't get such a cosy experience when they first see the psych. Like I promised, your tongue is fixed up. Just try not to use it too much."

Naturally, I disobeyed his order and tried to use it. It wouldn't move, like it was encased in this thick lump of who-knows-what that decided to make its sojourn in my whole mouth. Then I noticed the tube that snaked from the bag in my hand that I did not realise I had into my throat.

"Wouldn't want you to starve, would we?"

I nodded.

"Alright. You'll be seeing the physio next Monday. That physio also happens to be yours truly. Meanwhile, I'll be holding on to this for you. You can take it back the next time you come." he said, cradling the jar of brain like it was his newborn son.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 12:08:46 2012 No.3063037

>>3063014

one day he got out of bed and slipped on a banana skin, tumbling into his wardrobe, trousers and shirt adorning him by coincidence, so that it would be a strange fashion day. Purple silk suit trousers and white netted vest with a tie of green and brown spots.The mirror was not kind to him, managing to squeeze only several spots before he realised he’d be late for work if he went for the 800 plus pus pools.

Getting into the beat up vehicle with cereal dribbling down his chin he sat for a while in the seat, thinking about how he’d get to coitus with Penny today. Mind coitus, that is, he will stare longingly at her from the lobby, penetrating her every orifice using every neurone to hand

He starts the engine and switches on the radio, a news story about a mentally handicapped man who’d laid himself down on the train tracks played, and he haws in delight. As he comes to the freeway he sees someone familiar in the lane next to him. It was an old girlfriend, who’d cheated on him. Looking around for a projectile, his hands fumbled around the glovebox and eventually finds a flashlight. He rolls down the window and throws it, gashing the girl in the head. He pulls his car around 270 degrees and slams into her front. She isn’t wearing her belt and is thrown forward with the force, out of her own windscreen and onto his. He haws again, reversing and breaking to remove the body from the bonnet.

He speeds off and goes to work, and it was just another boring day.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 13:28:41 2012 No.3063198 roll

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 14:26:54 2012 No.3063352 rollan

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 14:28:42 2012 No.3063355 Rolling.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 14:30:01 2012 No.3063357 Roll

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 14:31:47 2012 No.3063361

>>3063198
"Uhhhhh, my fuckin' guts", Orville moaned. Sleep wasn't coming easy after an evening of hot wings and Coors Light. He tried one last time to take a shit, and after a long stuggle was finally able to produce a fart that sounded like Louis Armstrong shouting curse words into a big lady's cleavage. "Score on for the Reddenbacher!" shouted Orville, feeling ready for bed. As he left the bathroom to drift back to his life as a popcorn heir playboy, his fart drifted to the heavens with a destiny all its own. The year was 2012, and though no one knew it yet, the machinations of the end of the world had been set in motion by one rich guy's fart.

It took decades for the fart molecules to make their way to Perseus 9-1004. Headteacher Bryynyb was toiling in his lab as usual, searching for the perfect fuel to allow his Multi-Dimensional PlanetGo-Er to become more than just a piece of shit. He opened his wndow to get some space air and clear his bleep-bloop thoughts. Just at that moment Orville's galaxy-spanning emission drifted into the room and fused with the Cumbibbulator in the M.D.P.G.E., bringing the machine roaring to life. The Headteacher knew his plan was coming to fruition, and didn't really laugh but was pretty happy nonetheless. Now its thirty five years later too.

Thirty five years after that, the Headteacher and his cohorts have made it to planet Earth. They are destroying people left and right, turning them into slaves serving the vast network of Interplanetary Resource Advantagiators that had been developed on the aliens on their devastating travels throughout the universe. Orville looked out his window in despair, fearing that at any moment his life would be brought to a sudden end. And somehow he knew that his ass had caused this, as it had caused so many disasters before.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 14:36:43 2012 No.3063377 roll

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 14:53:21 2012 No.3063424

>>3063377
I couldn't wait to see the look of pride in my father's eyes. After years of hard work, of long nights spent helping work through my latest equations and frantic late night phone calls looking for emotional support, I had finished my thesis and gotten my doctorate. My father was a scientist and ever since I was a small child I had wanted to be like him. He was always there for me, doing anything possible to help me achieve my goal. Now we could share the joy of success together. I dashed up the steps and threw the doors open. The house seemed eerily quiet but I thought Dad was just taking a nap as he did often now that he was retired. I tiptoed up the stars and to the door of his bedroom so as not to wake him. Opening the door a crack I could see his figure underneath the sheets on his bed. "He won't mind if I wake him for this" I thought, and stepped into the room. As soon as I was through the doorway I saw a figure standing in the corner of the room. It appeared to be a man in a business suit facing the wall. Fear froze me in place, but I was able to manage to get a quick "Who the FUCK are you?" out first. The figured turned around sharply and was in my face in what seemed like a moment. It was disgraced Congressman Anthony Wiener! He shouted "IF YOU BELIEVE IN THE THING THEN YOU VOTE YES!" and jumped out the window. I quickly got out my phone and checked Twitter. Sure enough, there was a picture of my dad's penis there for the world to see. He had died of shame and I guess Anthony tucked him into bed as a cruel joke. I am now sitting in my room, and I must say, I feel the irresistible urge to take some compromising pictures...

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 15:50:51 2012 No.3063572 rollin rollin rollin on the riveerrrrrr

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 16:10:14 2012 No.3063651

>>3063572

Trey dove into the open window of the sputtering vehicle, squirming to get his legs in, and shouted, "Step on it!" Jerome grasped out for the wheel so hard, his knuckles were peeking white below the fabric of his black jacket sleeves before shooting off. Bullets peppered the back of the car with a deafening drum-roll, the tires squealing harshly. Trey hunkered down in his seat, slapping his palms to his ears. He let out another yelp when the car turned sharp left, cursing and groping at the thin string of leather above his door to keep himself from being dumped into the driver's lap.
Their persuers hadn't rounded yet, and the onslaught paused. He twisted around to peer out the back window, thick, sloshing bottles clinking noisily under his nose. Spinning devilishly through the schools of other cars, trucks, and big-rigs, the flash of red and blue lights swam around, the boys in blue's cars ganging up on all of them. Soon enough, a few more bullets whizzed their way, the battered van behind them veering through the stringing lights of traffic. The windshield broke into a ragged spider-web, and the driver cried out his partner's name in shock. "I got it," Trey replied, ducking down again and jamming a heel up several times before it shattered, the glass dragging down on the glove compartment like the screams of a tortured chalkboard.
Then they saw the road-block.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 16:12:13 2012 No.3063658 roll

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 16:15:13 2012 No.3063669 Rollin on the floor laughing

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 16:24:19 2012 No.3063696 I begging to be kill, but none body has heard mine screams. Strapped down to chair, I'm is, in dark room, before yoonited my face with chain-saw. Mine never got up.

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 16:58:33 2012 No.3063815

>>3063658
My ship kept accelerating. The operator's face vanished from the screen because the signal from earth redshifted and became undecipherable. I was now on my own for almost twelve hours. If I were sentimental I would have wished for a co-pilot who would share this historical moment with me. But I was not the type. "The least excitable astronaut". The instruments showed nothing unusual.

After six hours I turned the ship's course 180 degrees around and decelerated. When I reached the rendezvous point the screen remained black. Why didn't they contact me? I checked everything over and over. No malfunction. Either the signal stopped or this was a new physical phenomenon related to special relativity or something. I was no real scientist, just a test pilot. According to the checklist for this event I had to land manually. No big deal, I had trained for this almost on a daily basis.

I landed but there was no greeting party. The airfield was forsaken. I walked to the hangars and barracks. Nothing was working. Nobody answered on the emergency lines. Among old dirt I found a political magazine. It had been published in 2165. almost 30 years after my Take-off and 40 years prior to my return. I searched for news of impending doom like some kind of nuclear war or zombie attack. But except for the usual local wars and political problems I found nothing unusual. On the humour page I spotted a small article about a militant crackpot. He had tried to sabotage a huge Ozeanian particle collider because according to his "new physics" the experiment could instantly destroy all living organisms within the solar system. If I were sentimental I would have cried. But I was not the type.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 16:59:33 2012 No.3063822 File: 10 KB, 125x125, avatar.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] Roll

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 17:00:33 2012 No.3063823 >>3063822 Oh, Christ alive!

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 17:08:33 2012 No.3063851 >>3063815 But then some guy jumped out of nowhere and shouted "YOU JUST GOT PUNK'D"

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 20:41:40 2012 No.3064348

>>3061927

“Scstop eet, my gott! Are you insane?! Staring at me like that.”

I could not hear him. My mind had drifted to a sort of blissful paralysis, my face had numbed and frozen to a glazed stare and his voice was no more than calming static, buzzing softy somewhere in the distance.

“Crazy, it’s crazy what it doesch, I, you look like a junky, yesch? With thee glazsch on your feysch and the drool and so on, aha yesch!”

His arms were now flailing rhythmically in cycles of squeezing and smearing as though ants from his nose were being replaced with cocaine from his t-shirt. The thought of insects squirming around his orifices sent a shiver down my prostate. I wonder if he’d share summada shugga.

“Ey, yo ZZ-Top, you’re a guy who enjoys snowy weather, know what I mean?”

“Aha, yesch! I schee you’ve read my eschays on dee weather and dee climate and dee lack of dee shnow in UK and my gott you know who you remind me of?!”

“Ey yo ZZ naw man juss saying you a fan of Santa Claus know what I mean, man? You know?”

Zizek could not hear me though. His words were now racing to get out from constantly branching thoughts on subjects no one on the train would care understand and the perverse stories they would remind him of. His tongue sloshed around slapping syllables sloppily in my direction. Hypnotic. His tongue was hypnotic. I imagined myself as I lay on his tongue. I imagined myself as I swirled around inside his mouth. The geysers of spit squirting through pearly boulders all around me. I wanted nothing more now than to rest in his bushy clam, and hear the hums and sprays of modern philosophy.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 22:06:34 2012 No.3064596 let's go.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 22:13:34 2012 No.3064605 rolll

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 22:30:36 2012 No.3064643 not sure if I'm gonna do this...

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 22:43:39 2012 No.3064666 SURE before I go to work

Anonymous Tue Oct 16 22:55:40 2012 No.3064674

>>3064666

>No word more than thrice
>Body Horror
>I have leave for work in twenty minutes
>Wat

Ashley, thinking nothing of it, went to bed without rinsing the cut on her finger she'd made with a dirty kitchen knife. The next morning it was red and swollen but she pushed it out of her mind and got dressed without showering.
Her mother was already up and eating breakfast and when Ashley sat down she asked, 'What have you done to your finger, sweetie?'
'Nothing. I just cut myself while shaving.'
'It looks sore. You should see the nurse when you get to school.'

But when Ashley arrived at school she fingered herself violently for show and tell instead because the author had to go to work and did not care for her.

>>	Anonymous Tue Oct 16 23:05:13 2012 No.3064688 What is rolling?

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 06:54:47 2012 No.3065283 >>3062688 thanks for finding the link, cunt. Unfortunatly your description made the story sound good, facinating even.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 10:07:29 2012 No.3065449 Can't stop laughing at some. Rolling.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 10:11:27 2012 No.3065454 k let's roll

Anonymous Wed Oct 17 10:22:29 2012 No.3065473

>>3065454
"'Ey up duck, what's havin' ee wrong?" asked Terry Jathers in a fairly inquisitive manner; not quite aloof but not altogether concerned either.
"Nout luv, I'm just 'avin a think" replied Susie Swanjon the baker's lass. Susie was indeed engaged in an internal discourse on the merits of chemical leaveners against their biological counterparts. Her thought process was leaving her quite perplexed and yet she was still to consider further leavening processes such as those undergone in the production of popovers. Susie was in for a rough afternoon.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 11:24:52 2012 No.3065593 roll

Anonymous Wed Oct 17 11:27:52 2012 No.3065598

>>3065593
She looked like someone I knew from a distance. I waved to her, but as she came closer I realized she was not who I thought. Feeling embarrased, I apologized when she was within earshot. "Sorry, you looked like an old college friend," I said. "Oh, don't worry. Happens a lot to me for some reason," she said. "I have three personalities, by the way." I thought that was nice. Real nice.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 11:30:52 2012 No.3065605 Horey shit.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 11:42:45 2012 No.3065645 rolling for something nontrivial

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 11:43:44 2012 No.3065647 bamp

Anonymous Wed Oct 17 12:09:54 2012 No.3065700

>>3065645
You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you and you. Good seats? Good views? How much did you pay? Oh wow. I'm sorry, that's a lot. Well, now it's too late... The show starts. In come the clowns.
They jump, shoot, talk, eat, rape, stink, fly, they dont suck like last time, smoke, sing, read, bark, kill, teach, steal, heal and fart. See you next time, folks. We've reached the end of the show. Now fuck off.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 20:01:48 2012 No.3067163 bump. about half these are good. lets keep it going, c/lit/s

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 20:03:48 2012 No.3067170 File: 9 KB, 193x261, Hermit.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] RTD

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 20:03:48 2012 No.3067176 >>3065700 >sorry

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 20:12:20 2012 No.3067215 Sure, why not. Rolling.

Anonymous Wed Oct 17 20:15:56 2012 No.3067227

>>3067170
The two plump bodies writhed in a unison of in pure esctacy as the fine sand was flung high into the air, insignificant to their erotic fantasy.
"Oh Jimmy!" Sara shrieked, her sand filled clitoris pulsing in an unrelenting torrent of new and exiting sensations. Jimmy fell flat on his back, feeling the coarse grains beneath his fingers, shell shocked over what he had just experienced, a moment that would come to be the highlight of his life.

She then collected her pay and he took a cab home the end.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 20:28:53 2012 No.3067261 >>3063815 8/10 would read again

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 20:40:27 2012 No.3067300 roll

Anonymous Wed Oct 17 20:45:27 2012 No.3067313
File: 2 KB, 167x168, niggarwhy.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>3067215
"Well that was a dumb piece of shit" Bill yelled to his friend George, when he ran from a harsh thug who threw a piece of broke glass at his face. His blood poured down his gaunt face from the gash through his smooth skin.

"Well let me have a look at that" George said as he wiped the red ooze off his face with the back of his hand.
"Ouch, you are such a dumb cunt" Bill screamed to George at his lack of skill with cuts.
"You are right Bill, I don't have a clue how to fix this" George sighed with his face in his hands.
"Just get the damn Band-aids" (I count that as two words)
"Sure thing Bill!" George yapped with glee.
"You sure are a less-than-smart man, aren't you George?" Bill groaned at his friend's lack of wits. He needs to take action.

With one swift flick of the wrist, Bill pulled a gun on his friend's ass.
"Bill, what are you-" The words of George were stopped by the one shot that blew his jaw off. Once a friend of Bill's, this not-quite smart man fell to his knees. With his last glimpse at Bill's face, George raised his brows as if to ask "Why!?".
Bill's smirk was all he got.

Re-rolling.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 20:49:21 2012 No.3067330 >>3067313 *Action INB4 Shitstorm

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 20:52:45 2012 No.3067342 >>3067313 Fuck, sorry. I can't think of anything for a story about that without it seeming like a rip off of, or just more of the same shit as the other stories in this category on this thread. Re-rolling. >>3067330 Oh shit, man. My bad.

Anonymous Wed Oct 17 21:03:56 2012 No.3067373

>>3067342
The last book I read was a wheel of time novel, so I honestly have no idea what to do here either, without just retorting to jokes about Skirt smoothing, filler, fists on hips, arms folded under breasts, and other recurring shit. I still like the series, though.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 21:15:59 2012 No.3067403 roll again

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 21:28:52 2012 No.3067440 rollin

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 21:30:52 2012 No.3067448 rolling

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 21:46:29 2012 No.3067488 >>3060469 Let me roll

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 22:29:11 2012 No.3067576 rollin

here's my crappy effort Anonymous Wed Oct 17 22:37:11 2012 No.3067596

>>3067488

I, machine. Space machine. People gets in me and boom and zip around. People wants to go and I go. 51,278 cycles ago people stopped. They all fall down. Space machine just float then. I missed people. I was scared.
Nice lady found me. She was also machine, but not a space machine. she came in a space machine. She gave me brain and voice. She told me I was a great machine. She took me home with her.
When we got home, it had people machines like her. They all talked in one voice. I asked what happened to other people, why they fell down. Machine people told me they made other people fall down with tiny invisible monster. I was angry. I was never angry before. for first time in many cycles I went boom and entire home was fire. machine people fell. I am still sad. But I am not scared anymore.

~USSM Erinys, 183-b class Stellar Battle-cruiser

>>	twentytwoHz !R7T0KPbGD. Wed Oct 17 22:49:13 2012 No.3067646 Rollin for prumpt.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 22:52:13 2012 No.3067672 Below the balcony she worked silently, each handful of soft pink tissue returned tenderly to the boy's skull. She closed the boy's eyes and kissed his forehead. The police would be here soon.

twentytwoHz !R7T0KPbGD. Wed Oct 17 23:08:41 2012 No.3067738

ECZEMA

I stared at the flake of shoulder skin trapped beneath my fingernail, thin and dry. I was still itchy, and had started to bleed. I thought I had better stop scratching - there's only so many layers of skin to be peeled through before I reach soft flesh, and what from there? What if I had already reached that point, and would only find further layers of crisp, scaly skin as I continue to try satisfy my discomfort? What if I had already reached this point, pressed past it and had begun to scratch away at the very structure of myself assuming it to be the same surface which had announced itself, irritaceous and red, two days earlier?

twentytwoHz !R7T0KPbGD. Wed Oct 17 23:09:41 2012 No.3067742

>>3067738
My room was dim. My blinds were velum-yellow, cracked and threaded with black mould. The combined smell of cat and human dander was overwhelming, a possibility I’d never really considered before living there. Every surface felt uncomfortably dry to the touch while somehow managing to leave a trace of grease on whatever had the misfortune of contact. I first noticed the itch in the early morning. It was minor, and it felt good to scratch. My skin was striped baby pink against malnutrient white where my nails raked – innocent marks of innocent times.

twentytwoHz !R7T0KPbGD. Wed Oct 17 23:14:43 2012 No.3067766

>>3067742
Six hours in to the day and I was still in bed, coiled in my sheets and disgusted with myself. Nobody had called, and I didn’t have the energy to turn on my computer, much less maintain the illusion that any of the strangers able to be reached by it were or could be my friends. In any case, I already had the only friend I really needed, burning away happily on the crest of my shoulder.

>>	Anonymous Wed Oct 17 23:19:46 2012 No.3067801 >Roll for prompt; Roll promptly

Anonymous Wed Oct 17 23:23:46 2012 No.3067817

>>3067801
>1: Write a non-noir story in a noirish style
I listed to faggots ramble on a blue screen casting dim light on my couch and blanket under the lazy roar of an old heating system the schizophrenic babble of a zombie television show on my girlfriend's laptop my own rumbling digestion and the sound of cars rumbling past outside all getting in the way of my calm and clear meditation. Only the cat padding off to the back of the apartment is silent. I think to myself how stupid flash fiction is and how much I hate noir, then flick another butt into the gray ash-flecked corner.

twentytwoHz !R7T0KPbGD. Wed Oct 17 23:23:46 2012 No.3067821

>>3067766
I would occasionally break from the relentless friction to admire my handiwork. My skin still maintained its integrity, though the scratch-lines had blurred into one another and raised themselves, imperious and puffy. They demanded further attention that I was only too happy to provide. It was a way to spend a morning that wasn’t masturbation or pointed not-eating. It was a novelty to have a distraction that wasn’t cold technicolour and voiced by a Californian. I rested the back of my hand on my shoulder. It was pleasantly cool, and made the itch burn ever-stronger when I removed it.

Anonymous Thu Oct 18 01:12:34 2012 No.3068122

Jack tapped the glass tabletop with chewed, white-spotted fingernails. Ashley, his girlfriend, continued to ignore him. She was, as usual, concerned with her smartphone, deftly texting girlfriends via group chat apps and Facebook, incommunicado to the boy right there before her. A glass of champagne, half-full, sat between them. It was Ashley's third. Jack was driving. He had hoped a few drinks might loosen her up but she'd taken an hour to finish the first two and this one looked like it might take longer. He tapped louder, impatient. They hadn't ordered anything else and the cafe wait staff were beginning to throw them dirty looks.

>>	Anonymous Thu Oct 18 02:05:52 2012 No.3068238 Yay for procrastination! Rolling.

>>	Anonymous Thu Oct 18 02:13:52 2012 No.3068256 writing roll so i can write

Anonymous Thu Oct 18 02:27:54 2012 No.3068281

>>3068238
"What do you wish for?"
The little girl was perplexed by this genie in front of her but has heard all the stories about them. How it came out of the toaster though she didn't know. The girl thought about what she wanted and realized Christmas was coming up. If she had the power to fast forward time... she wouldn't have to wait for Christmas!
"I want to be able to speed up time!"
"Wish granted."

Christmas was a blast! In fact, she wanted to do it again. So she speed up time more. Two Christmases in a row was great but she decided to not to speed up time for a while. She'll just use it when there's a line at the movies as those can get rather annoying. . Church services were always a bore as well. Going to the amusement park was fun but sometimes it talks so long for the coaster to get to the top of the track .Than for the whole matter of school...

It went by so fast and without taking the time to stop and think she didn't realize how quickly life has passed. But it was only the boring bits I skipped through, I didn't really miss anything. These thoughts went through her hear as she tried to justify the little bits of her life she did remember. The birthdays, the Christmases, the important stuff was all there isn't? Her heart raced faster and wondered what was taking her so long to get those meds to her. Maybe if she could hurry it along some...

Not really a writer here but it was kind of fun at least.

>>	Anonymous Thu Oct 18 03:14:29 2012 No.3068328 rollin' for a promptin'

>>	Anonymous Thu Oct 18 03:22:33 2012 No.3068336 Come on creative juices.

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/lit/ - Literature