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/lit/ - Literature

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3279031 No.3279031 [Reply] [Original]

In this thread we are all best selling writers and we write the intro of an epic book.
The topic is: An astronaut lands in a very cold and dark planet; it's Christmas on earth.
>min 1 paragraph.
>pic unrelated, I like the drawing.

>> No.3279032

Just one astronaut?

>> No.3279036

>>3279032
Yes, just one.
>You may explain us why Mr. Scott-Card

>> No.3279040

>>3279036
Because it's science-fiction and I don't need to make sense or follow rules

>> No.3279043

>>3279031
At home my children are being forced to scrub the bathroom because their cousins are coming for Christmas dinner. I know this because the littlest one sent me an emergency squirt to explain her booboo finger to me, hoping daddy would come to the rescue. Not to tell me good job on finally setting down on the icy surface of a formerly untouched planet, no... the booboo and the cleaning. I can't expect her to understand, of course. She's small enough still that we don't try to tame her, her head all covered in rings, like some sunny and swirling planet, all by herself, and she, always falling out of her mother's orbit, touching those things on shelves that are mostly likely to crush in her fist. It is in this moment of daydream that I realize where I am and what I am about to do.

>> No.3279047
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3279047

>>3279040
fuck yeah.
Dark is the vast universe, symphony of the stars and melody of the time. Can our imagination concieve such a wonderful thing? Or is it too much for our primitive human neocortex?
Joseph McLee is on a journey for that answer, however he might just discover that the answer he's looking for is way more complex than he thought it would.
But tonight he's not trying to find that answer. He's just sitting on his RP-901 trying to figure out how in this chilling orbitating rock like planet can he turn on the engine.
Or stay alive at all.

>> No.3279051

>>3279047
what about christmas dude?
>captcha: cuchulainn nedicI

>> No.3279055

>>3279047

The Empire was in tatters. It still lived on in name, with various Emperors and the armies backing them, fighting over scraps of what used to run most of the known universe. Joseph had run from them a long time ago, and was not interested in staying to see his civilization burn.

>> No.3279063

>>3279055
however this night was one of big joy. According to his never-stop Swiss clock, a gift from his great grandfather, tonight is Christmas eve, yes! There is pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, a sticky ham and a big roasted bird in a table waiting for him... Well... Somewhere in the universe.
His mind fights with his watery mouth and tells him to wake up and focus on the terrain and the options.

>> No.3279066

>>3279043
nice foreshadowing, would keep reading. But 'daydream' meh.

>> No.3279068

>>3279066
seconded.

>> No.3279081

The moment I saw the shadow beneath my left foot I knew that everything had gone terribly awry. My foot slowly approached the shadow. When I say slowly, I don't mean it as a figure of speech. It took 8.32 seconds for my foot, heavily armoured in that excruciatingly white material, to connect with the alien ground. At that very moment, I heard the bells, and the laughter, and the singing. I felt her warmth against me. And then I felt the impact of my foot touching the ground, and my body compressing itself against my foot. And I felt the cold and the darkness and the silence compress me, knowing that nevermore would I hear those bells.

>> No.3279083

>>3279081
"Merry Christmas"

>> No.3279084

>>3279083

Yes, excellent. "And I felt the cold and the darkness and the silence compress me, knowing that nevermore would I hear those bells. Nevermore would I feel her breath ony my face and nevermore would I know how to laugh. Merry christmas."

>> No.3279091

>>3279084
>>3279081
>>3279083
got our winrars

>> No.3279092

Captain John Smith, the Pilot and lone passenger of Argonaut II, began to busy himself with putting on his space suit as he waited out the 15 minute radio delay from Earth. He looked out the small window into the sea of black, speckled with a myriad of white dots, and focused in one which, compared to the others, seemed just as insignificant and ineffectual as the last. That dot however, housed all semblance of life he'd ever encountered. He tore himself away from the window. Before, as his ship traveled through space at a galactic crawl he'd spend hours staring back at that dot; watching it shrink and fall in line with the other specks. He looked at the small digital clock to his left. The scientists back home told him it would be beneficial to keep on board. The presence of a clock, even if it meant nothing and had no purpose--- there were no appointments to keep in space--- helped give some governance to life in a pod. He tapped and wiped at the glass in front of the clock: there was condensation behind it, soon it would be unintelligible. He could just barely make out the 12/15 next to 10:23 am. John let a rare smile come to his face as he began to picture the smiling faces of the children, not his, he had never been blessed with his own, open presents and take bites out of frosted gingerbread men; gingerbread men who never had to carry the weight of the toils which human men bore, but existed simply to be devoured and in that moment of destruction and happiness, fulfilled their purpose.

>> No.3279093

>>3279092
With his space suit now on, the captain grumbled something along the lines of, "Houston be damned" and began to undo the pressure locks on the front door of the cabin. With a hiss of pressurized air, the door began to open and John began to step towards the archway. Looking down, he saw the dust of the planet shine white like powdered sugar on sugar plums, fresh white snow and with one step of his heavy lead boots, crushed it. He looked around and began to laugh wildly at the barren land his supposedly fruitful mission had bore him.

Inside the cabin, Houston's relay message was coming in saying, "Habitat unsuitable. Weather unstable. Wait in cabin for further instructions." It was too late. John ventured forth.

>> No.3279095

>>3279093
*or fresh snow. Dammit.

>> No.3279098

>>3279092

Condensation? The fuck

>> No.3279100

>>3279098
Yeah bro. There's problems and shit.

>> No.3279101

>>3279043
>8/10
>>3279047
>9/10
>>3279081
>9.5/10
>>>3279092
>8/10

>> No.3279105

>>3279091
>>3279101

Thanks :3

>> No.3279383

>>3279081

http://audioboo.fm/boos/1130378-merry-christmas

>> No.3281523

>>3279383
dat british accent.

>> No.3281591

Starting a business seemed (in his prime that is) a boring, stressful, and above all foolish choice to make. To be free of the government was his number one motto the moment he realized the government's malicious plans. That moment of course being when he was denied his disability check. Reason being, he wasn't actually disabled. Denying this was what seemed fit, and surprisingly, what he truly believed. But once Ron simply convinced himself that the free lifestyle was not working out so well, and once he had finally matured at what he believed was the wisdom-filled age (that age being 21) he finally declared, debated, and accepted what he would do with his life. He would open a sex shop.

>> No.3281594

>>3281591
OH, I didn't realize there was a topic. Oh well, I'll just leave this here.

>> No.3281599

>>3281591
REJECTED. 0/10

>> No.3281603

>>3281599
NOOOOOOO

>> No.3281611

>>3281603
doubles is the truth, man. >3281599

>> No.3281617
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3281617

>>3281611
fuck.

>> No.3281632

>>3281599
>>3281611
doubles ^
>>3281603
you best be jokin nigger