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Personal Writing > Painted Thoughts

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message 1: by lorien, In Between (last edited Feb 16, 2018 09:44PM) (new)

lorien | 2558 comments Mod

Hello, and welcome to unfinished stories, not-so-well-written characters, and loads more to boot! I’ll try and post once a month but given everything that is going on... I doubt I’ll even be able to do THAT simple goal. *coughs with embarrassment* Anywho, enjoy if you will. I only ask one thing of you. It’s simple, really. Do not, under any circumstances take these ideas, characters, or even modify them for you to claim “as your own.” You will have my thanks if you oblige. On a better note, cake or tea, anyone?
One more thing, if you would like to criticize what I write, I have no problem with that. At all. I’d actually encourage it since I have very poor grammar skills and all that rot. Oh! What makes it a LOT easier is if you could copy and paste the writing I wrote, and bold what you’d like me to change underneath the paragraph. Because if you say, “I don’t like your characters” or “Stop using adverbs” just randomly on this thread, I won’t be able to identify what on earth you are talking about.


{Genres That Will Be Included}
»Maybe Historical?
»Virtual Realities

message 2: by lorien, In Between (last edited Feb 14, 2018 09:52PM) (new)

lorien | 2558 comments Mod
{Table of Contents}


Yuko Takagi has always lived in a quaint village. Except, there’s just one problem. The village is trapped in a period of time forever. No one can escape. If they do, old age catches up with them and they vanish. This hasn’t been a real problem for Yuko thankyouverymuch. Being a teenager forever doesn’t sound too bad. Especially when she owns her dreamy art supply store. So when she’s out and finds a young boy in the forest, she decides to take him in. Strange thing is, is that within a few weeks, the boy is a young man. And. . . grows older with every passing week. A blooming mystery begins to emerge from a cute town shielded from the world. Will Yuko find the being behind all of this? Or will the secrets of the village be lost forever?

Razzle Dazzle

A Summer's Place

Amber Wolfe is one of the biggest book lovers in her family of seven. And quite honestly, this hobby is something that Amber would like to pursue. Even if that’s working in a bookstore or the library, it doesn’t matter, so long as she’s near books, she’s okay with that. When Mrs. Ramone, a grouchy old lady in church, offers Amber a job in her bookstore, Amber is hesitant at first, but then decides that maybe it won’t be all that bad. Who knows? She could learn a thing or two from the seventy year old woman. During the whole summer, Amber learns the appreciation of books and friendship. Maybe even a blooming relationship as well.

message 3: by lorien, In Between (last edited Oct 13, 2017 01:58PM) (new)

lorien | 2558 comments Mod
Sidelines: Prologue

You know that time where you wonder in your life if this is it. If you'll forever be the same person you are now until you die? If you'll live in the same area that you live in now?

Well that's what I'm asking myself early in the morning.

All my life, I never knew anything else besides the bakery that my parents owned.

Sure, I had the ideas and the imaginative thoughts of visiting other countries but we never left our small town. I didn't ride my bike out past the border of another town close by because my mother warned me that there were things which were not even to be whispered about.

But of course, my mother is a gullible woman and will believe anything she hears from the newspapers or the only "real" information we get which is from our television set.

Despite her being the type who goes with the flow, I actually listened to her warning and never dared to step out of the border.

There have been a few cases were a group of teenagers actually wandered off outside the border and were. never found. Searches were never made to see if those kids were still alive or not but everyone had a sickening feeling, those kids were dead. And if people thought otherwise, that would only give them hope to cling on to that wasn't even real.

So why am I rambling about a border which gives us town people sorrow and despair?

Because on a frightful night, I, Yuko Hiroshima, crossed that border. In the hopes that it would take me somewhere else besides this dingy town of mine.

message 4: by lorien, In Between (last edited Feb 14, 2018 10:09PM) (new)

lorien | 2558 comments Mod
Dialogue in Sidelines

“You really think I know everything about being Japanese?” I ask Mallory with a scrutinizing look.

“Well, yeah, I mean, you are Japanese, aren’t you?”

“Half, actually. I’m part Indo.”

“Indo. . . what?”

“Indonesian you uneducated tweeb,” I reply, smacking the back of her head as I walk past her.

“Hey!” Mallory protests, rubbing her delicate head. “That hurt!”

I sigh heavily. Mallory could be great and all but, there are days where I wish she would buck up a little. “I didn’t smack you that hard.”

“Yes, you did. And now,” Mallory grabs ahold of my sleeve and pulls me down the hill to the center of town, “you need to buy me some ice-cream.”

“Like I’m really going to do that now. Besides, I need to go check. . .” I catch myself and curse that I hadn’t kept my thoughts closely guarded.

“Check? Check what?” Great. Now I have officially arisen her curiosity and I know she won’t let it go until I tell her.

“Check the chickens,” I lie. “The poor things might get lonely from time to time. How would you like it if you were cooped up in a pen all day? And a feisty rooster to deal with on top of that.”

Mallory wrinkles her nose. “For once, I’m grateful to be human.”

“I really should go check up on them,” I say earnestly. “Please Mallory?”

“Okay,” she says, her face being mushed in disappointment as she lets go. “But you better make it up to me tomorrow.”

“No promises!” I say to her, running up the steep hill and turning to give her a wave before slapping the black asphalt with my poorly built school shoes.

message 5: by lorien, In Between (last edited Feb 16, 2018 09:46PM) (new)

lorien | 2558 comments Mod


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