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Writing Contest #16 - Entries

Everyone has something unique. That's what makes them different. The unique thing about Patti is that she was born with the ability to see elves. This makes for an interesting life, because they know that 'real' people can't see them and they behave accordingly. You know how it is when there's a news team making an outside broadcast and the reporter can only see the cameraman he's talking to? There's always some clever devil who has to sneak up and make silly faces, or put 'horns' on the reporter from behind.
Imagine, then, the most troublesome race possible, secure in the knowledge that we can't see what they're up to. Patti can though. She can see the posturing, the rude gestures, the silly dances and the pulled faces, because the elves don't know she can see them. What's really crippling her though, is her inability to hear elves, or indeed, to make them hear her. She may be unique in her own way, but what wouldn't she give to let them have a piece of her mind when they ruin the most poignant or romantic moments in her life? She wants elf porn so the last laugh can be hers!

“Sew him up Nurse”, Professor Nuffield barked after completing an arduous and complex quadruple bypass on the recently deposed Prime Minister of Egypt. The Professor took one last look at his beautifully crafted internal sutures , confident that the President would live to see his country go from military rule to democracy now he had been operated on by the finest heart surgeon in the world.
The Professor scrubbed up and made for the executive restaurant where he was to meet the beautiful and talented woman who was soon to become his third wife.
He walked into the restaurant and sat facing his fiancé admiring her as he did every time he saw her. Today she seemed overjoyed as she handed over an official document and invited him to read. He nonchalantly reached to his waistcoat pocket to retrieve his pinz nez so he could savour every word of the divorce papers, but to his surprise his pocket was empty and he took on a look or surprise, despair and horror all mixed together.
“What’s wrong”, blurted his boxum companion
“I think I have left my glasses in the deposed president of Egypt”, replied the professor.
“Everyone has something unique. That's what makes them interesting”, retorted his wise, witty and resourceful lover.

“Everyone is unique, that’s what makes them interesting” said the data input drone at the tax office.
“Everyone is unique, that’s what makes them interesting” said the government eavesdropper to his relief shift.
“Everyone is unique, that’s what makes them interesting” said the mugger eyeing up his next prey, trying to judge who wouldn’t put up a fight.
“Everyone is unique, that’s what makes them interesting” said the school counsellor through the door to the boy who had taken a teacher hostage.
“Everyone is unique, that’s what makes them interesting” said the surgeon pointing to a dark shade on the X-ray for his students.
“Everyone is unique, that’s what makes them interesting” said the DNA expert witness, even though he knew everyone really behaved the same deep down under the skin.
“Everyone is unique, that’s what makes them interesting” said the Libertarian on his soapbox at Speakers’ Corner as a plane flew overhead and drowned out his words.
“Everyone is unique, that’s what makes them interesting” said the anthropologist when stood up before the grants committee to appeal for more research money.
“Everyone is unique, that’s what makes them interesting” said the Devil counting off his latest batch of souls.

“Everyone has something unique. That's what makes them interesting” said the young man from the Halloween edition of the Antiques Roadshow. “That old girl over there has original thumbscrews from the Salem Witch Trials.”
“This chap over here has one of Elvira’s on-screen dresses,” he continued as we walked down the line.”
“I wish he wasn’t modelling it, though,” I commented.
“It takes all the kind,” the boy replied with the careless nonchalance of youth, “especially for this show.”
He wasn’t kidding. I could see a hangman’s noose from the gibbet at Tyburn with a proper certificate of authenticity. There was the blade from the guillotine that did for Marie Antoinette. The couple that carried it (carefully) claimed that the stain on the sharp end was that of the woman herself.
“Is that dress eligible?” I asked. “I thought that things were only antique after sixty years.”
“We do collectibles as well,” the boy explained, “but it’s fifty years now. Used to be a hundred, but they changed it because things seem old much faster nowadays.
“And what did you bring?” I wondered as we came to the private interview room.
“A human spleen. How old are you again?”

Gregory sat at the desk, watching day workers file out the exit door. He reached to his bag, pulled out his flask, poured a small measure of coffee, and glanced at a newspaper discarded in the bin.
“Everyone has something unique. That's what makes them interesting”.
He huffed, as another pack of people spilled from the elevator.
That’s what makes them complicated!
At least working as night security, he could avoid them, avoid trying to understand them, keep to himself.
The usual dalliers exited the building and he grabbed the keys. Half way across the foyer, he heard the elevator ding and whoosh of opening doors. Momentary panic surged through his veins. He turned, feeling vulnerable, slightly annoyed. A solitary woman stepped towards him, perhaps three years younger than his 28. She silently mouthed: “sorry”.
Sorry for what? He immediately wondered; sorry you felt compelled to interact with me?
Eyes glinting, she threw a glossy lipped, white toothed, smile as he opened the door. Fading sunlight glinted through her breeze captured hair. A twirl of captured leaves, mirroring the churn in his gut, flounced around her ankles as she descended the steps.
“Interesting”, he said, as he locked the door.

Of course I'm unique! No-one else has this number. In fact I'm even more special because I was the first of the Eight_Alpha series, and we all know how great all of us have turned out! My youngest pod mates all look up to me because I was first out of the tank. “80391,” they say (because 80391alpha2/5/78 is, quite frankly, a bit of a mouthful, lolz!), “Tell us what it was like to be first again!” The new ones are full of questions when they're still unripened, haven't really got the hang of all their muscles yet (so funny!) but the training and physio is like so good they're just like real clones only a couple of months after scooping. I've just had my fifth Scoop Day so I'm really quite mature and will be ready for harvest soon. I'm really looking forward to it – I'm going to be allowed to have my hair done a different colour and everything so my little podmates can see me on the march. So exciting!

With the exception of birthdays, Christmas or other special events, my grandmother would sit on her old green sofa every day watching television and reading the newspaper. That was her life for the last ten years, a lonely life but a comfortable one in a warm, safe environment. She could talk for England, whenever I’d visit I’d sit there drinking ginger wine and listening to her go on asking if I was safe where I worked and happy with my life. I’d nod along and say yes to everything, just to keep her content. If I revealed the truth that actually my line of work was a tad dangerous she’d never let me leave the house!
She died a month ago, while I was abroad and stuck at work. We’d said our goodbyes on my last leave, though, and we knew we wouldn’t see each other again. I don’t remember much about our last conversation together, only her saying: “Everyone has something unique. That's what makes them interesting.” I don’t know what my uniqueness is, but if I only possess a fraction of her unique generosity, kindness and loving human spirit then that’s enough for me.

Did you get sent to anything interesting today?” he asked as he carefully set the drinks on the table.
“It was surprisingly quiet today, people must be avoiding the heat” she replied, settling down opposite him. “I managed to catch up on some paperwork for once.”
She stared at her drink thoughtfully for a few minutes before he spoke again, startling her
“That cider must be really interesting.” He said with a laugh.
She smiled and apologised “Sorry, I was just thinking about a couple of the cases we did go to. A sweet lady with a broken hip and a little boy who came off his bike and fractured his wrist. They were both in a lot of pain but so polite and optimistic. So different to some people we see.”
“I really don’t know how you do it, you see so many dreadful situations and yet you always find something to smile about” he said, shaking his head in amazement. “I couldn’t do what you do.”
“Well, everyone has something unique. That's what makes them interesting. And that’s what makes this job so worthwhile.” She replied with a small smile. “Anyway, enough about me, how was your day?”

Makes it more fun for me.
Poll please oh wise and wonderful leaders



us we can see

http://www.goodreads.com/poll/show/87...
This is my favourite project on the group :)
Thanks again Jud and everyone else!

Why?

the elves are gesturing that i shouldn't vote for that one

A life on the ocean wave,
A-home on the rolling deep!
Where the scater'd waters rave,
And the winds their revels keep.
Like an eagle caged I pine
On this dull, unchanging shore.
Oh give me the flashing brine,
The spray and the tempest's roar.


Are you the cabin boy? Will you be flogged before the yard-arm?


‘Everyone has something unique. That’s what makes them interesting.’
‘Bollocks!’
‘Don’t be rude. Anyway, I believe it to be true.’
‘No you don’t. It’s just a pretentious bunch of crap.’
‘Nietzsche said –‘
‘Don’t spout Nietzsche; you can’t even spell it.’
‘What do you mean, “I can’t spell it”. You’ve never seen me write it down.’
‘I can tell by the way you pronounce it that you haven’t got a clue.’
‘I’ve told you, stop being so rude. I believe that it’s a true statement. Each of us has something about us that makes us unique and, therefore, interesting.’
‘That is complete and utter bullshit. Of course there is something unique about each of us, such as fingerprints or the number of cells in the body, but you have to zoom in to such close detail to find it that when you have found it it’s something totally insignificant and, therefore, of no interest to anybody whatsoever – not even to you.’
‘Each of us is unique in our combination of talents and personal experiences.’
‘Balls!’
‘There’s definitely something unique about you.’
‘What?’
‘You are uniquely rude.’
‘Cobblers, Dad – there’re lots of people ruder than me.’
‘Maybe – but you’re only three.’