Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion
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message 4201:
by
Guy
(new)
Aug 30, 2013 12:03PM
Lilian that is so good! So very good indeed! I am about to run out to do chores. I am looking forward to the continuation of this.
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a beauty hidden
by the past, aching to
to be found, to be loved
by the past, aching to
to be found, to be loved
Good morning, good afternoon M :) it should be illegal to wake up early during weekends.
A hidden treasurelonging to be found once more
to see the daylight.
Near a rusting pailin weeds of the cracked lake bed
he found her lost watch.
In memory ofher from the lost days of old
he kept it always.
It's lovely and scary(?), Al :) Very nice continuation, Adrian!
her voice fills the hall
as she sings an eerie tune
her shadow lingers
her voice fills the hall
as she sings an eerie tune
her shadow lingers
Adrian, Alex, and Leslie, these are beautiful!
Yes, very beautiful indeed! Another great start to another busy day.
She scribbled plaintivemeasures, viola sketches
of leaf-cluttered walks,
sang misty fencerows,
and implored him with the eyes
of autumn’s brick streets.
Very nice, M, it's quite difficult to follow..
The drizzling rain of
spring reminded him of her
warm hugs and kisses (?)
lol, I'm not sure with this one harhar
The drizzling rain of
spring reminded him of her
warm hugs and kisses (?)
lol, I'm not sure with this one harhar
Sorry, Leslie! I started off in one direction and wound up going someplace else.By stacked Sabrina
I was kissed while from her bald
husband’s ears steam hissed.
Lol, it's fine, M! You're saving mine, thank you :))
like fireworks in the
sky, the husband's fury now
unleashed with a bang
????
like fireworks in the
sky, the husband's fury now
unleashed with a bang
????
I leap to the sidea bullet embeds itself
in the nearby wall.
Who knows how much scotchI’d imbibed, or how many
Sabrinas I saw,
when her husband, a
doctor, prescribed a black eye
and a swollen jaw.
Goodnight, pirates!
Lol! He had too much scotch, I think :))
Good morning, M! Good evening from my side of the world :) I'm not sure if I can follow yours, I feel sleepy already.
Thanks, M! Leslie is now signing off, out whatever lol
Excellent, M, Adrian, Leslie.an itch for witch scotch
From scratch he drank scotch
To scratch his itch for more scratch.
Till he met Old Scratch
he found peace watching his watch
wishing Sabrina was there.
Hahha. That's wonderful and funny Guy!
Thank you Ajay. 'Tis a silly thing, but I am glad you enjoyed it.
Good morning, Guy! :) I'm good, a bit sluggish today, I can't wait for Thursday lol how are you?
Reasonably well! I'm putting up the next contest and polls. Done soon, I hope.
he falls asleep with
the glass still in hand, scotch drips
on her paper eyes.
the glass still in hand, scotch drips
on her paper eyes.
what dreams may comeThe foul old man's tears
fall freely after his time
in paper girl dreams.
He moves to touch the smooth glass
hoping to forget her skin.
Wow! This thread has been so busy with such clever, witty, beautiful and haunting writing. One thing that really stands out to me is just how strong the feeling of continuation has been throughout. Hats off, well done to each of you.
Leslie wrote: "including you :))"Yes, my thought too!
the way his gnarled handsweave such a delicate dance
fills her with wonder
The wonder she feltwas at seeing in his visage
boyhood dreams of dance.
a brief flicker seenyearning from behind cold eyes
- his world-face returns
he slips into an
old drama set, trying to
relive his past life
old drama set, trying to
relive his past life
the play is the pen's playpenThe scene was set up
built up from a writer's words
to represent truth.
But the truth of the real scene
is that it's a true fiction.
to truly believe writings others represent
is a fallacy
ink scratched papyrusdeceives - in lemon hidden
secrets lie beneath
she squeezed lemon skin close to my eyes. wake up, love.
pulp like still teardrops.
Awake! Citrus tangscours night's sand to pearls - bitter
pulp your sweet fiction
Yikes, a sweetly lachrymose start to my morning! Nice!
Waking up to finddrops of lemon juice in your
eyes is not pleasant.
on St Clements wharforanges and lemons burn
as the great fire roars
Cascading fireworksfleck midnight’s greasy water
with wavering reds.
He waits, not knowing
her hair sways among the wharf’s
slow-sinking garbage.
he leaves unknowinghis discarded flowers find
her unfeeling hand
Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company!
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Authors mentioned in this topic
David Payne (other topics)Thomas Merton (other topics)
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David K. Reynolds (other topics)
