Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion
Weekly Short Story Contests
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Week 72- (March 10th-17th) Stories --- Topic: Gold at the End of the Rainbow DONE!
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I think it should be allowed. It is a bit like those word association games.Red
Fire
Chicken
Now you'll go from Saint Patrick's to Gold at the End of the Rainbow to whatever you want from that.
haha, you get from fire to chicken? i like your train of thought lawl
I thought so :) thanks!
I thought so :) thanks!
first thing i thought of were hot wings... kind of made me crave some chicken wings.
hahaha, Al, i found the perfect snack: peanut butter and cheese on raisin toast. I was hungry the other day! i get weird cravings too :P
Okay, thanks Al :)
and Stuart, I love your story! I really do.... short, sweet, nostalgic in a happy way. :)
hahaha, Al, i found the perfect snack: peanut butter and cheese on raisin toast. I was hungry the other day! i get weird cravings too :P
Okay, thanks Al :)
and Stuart, I love your story! I really do.... short, sweet, nostalgic in a happy way. :)
Fire had me thinking of meat. I was going to say steak first, as per the rules of word association, but I wanted to make a point, so I chose a white meat. It is easier to see the humor when you do a lot more.Run
go
Orientals
katana
layered
five-layered burrito
fastfood
fast date
gross
fried chicken smothered with chocolate sauce
Haha, isn't chocolate sauce called mole? lol
Ahh I love word association :) especially when you're playing with people whose second language is english and they keep talking in spanish, that's always fun :P
alrighty. writing. goodness.
Ahh I love word association :) especially when you're playing with people whose second language is english and they keep talking in spanish, that's always fun :P
alrighty. writing. goodness.
yeah, it's like a Spanish chocolate sauce you put on fried chicken. right? i think so but i might be wrong :P
it's said like mole-eh i think
mmmm chocolate syrup. me and my friend were watching a movie so we melted chocolate and dipped strawberries in it... but we were sitting in the dark so after the movie we turned on the lights and there was melted chocolate drips EVERYWHERE haha
it's said like mole-eh i think
mmmm chocolate syrup. me and my friend were watching a movie so we melted chocolate and dipped strawberries in it... but we were sitting in the dark so after the movie we turned on the lights and there was melted chocolate drips EVERYWHERE haha
It's more of.... a ponderings of the rainbow past. I hope it all makes sense... I think grammatically it's messed a bit, but I can't figure out how to change it without ruining the story. Bare with me :P
oh and sorry for the giant block of text. lol.
The Pot of Gold At The End Of My Rainbow
By Avree
Word Count: 1,384
I’m flying. High as a kite. No, I’m not on drugs. Drugs are bad. Well, in a way I’m on drugs. Musical ones, that’s all though. Vocals. Sigh. If only life was as perfect as his voice. But that doesn’t have anything to do with my story, no, not yet. Well, in a way it does, but not here, not this time or place. I’ll get to that, I promise. But no. Right now, I’m talking about taking off. Literally. I’m flying to Paris. To his house. Well, technically the airport, then I’m going to his house. But I’ll get there eventually. But nope, we’re just taking off. Well, we just took off. Above the city, passing the lights. Now I’m thinking of my friends and family. What are they doing? Are they missing me? Or am I another part of their life, once there, now gone. Like a good meal. Oh god, did I just compare myself to food? Apparently. It’s okay. I’ll get over it. I wish I had spaghetti, that’s a good meal. At least I don’t look like spaghetti. What? Oh, yeah, sorry. We’re flying. You and me. Across the world, to Paris, to see him. Looking down at my note book, I’m unaware of the words coming out of my fingertips. Lyrics, I think. What rhymes with rainbow? Somewhere… over the rainbow. That’s a good song. I always get it mixed up with Somewhere, off of West Side Story. That’s also a good song. I guess life is like a rainbow, in a way. If the colors are feelings, of passages of our life… what would mine be? What are the colors of the rainbow, again? Red…. Orange… yellow… blue… then… magenta? Nope, violet. I’m missing one… Green! That’s it. Green. Red. Okay, maybe my life is a rainbow. Red… what would that be? Passion? No. Anger? Maybe. My mom put me up for adoption. I’m her youngest child, but her husband didn’t want a fourth. So they packaged me up and sent me off so they could keep their perfect family. I met them once. All blonde. Blue eyes. All a bit tall, slender. My older half-sister had a perfect body, long straight blonde hair. Their eldest, my half-brother, was hot. Amelia would hit on him if we passed him in a mall. Of course. Oh, Amelia. I miss her. Paris will be hard. French people? I don’t speak French. Ah, well, he’ll teach me French. His native language. His accent flavors the most boring words and makes them the sexiest, romantic sounding sayings. What? Oh, right. Red. I think it’s anger. I hated myself when I was younger. A lot of anger growing up… being adopted gave me a different perspective on life. I think it had something to do with meeting my biological mom – seeing them happy in their perfect life, I felt like I had invaded their privacy and so they got rid of me. I guess that feeling channeled into everything else in my life. Mom and dad loved me so much, but I was always angry at them. For what? Why? Maybe…. Maybe because I felt like they were taking me away from my life. Happy to help the evils of biological parents, taking me away from where I belonged. Yep. Red = anger. That was the first stage in my life. What’s next, orange? Yeah. What’s orange? Creativity, I think. I remember that orange picture I drew. And my favorite orange pen. I took that anger from my red, fueled it into my writing and drawing and my music. I think that helped. I wasn’t angry as much. I guess I made my own hole in my world, my own niche to belong in. in my art. And my art is what led me to him. He loved my art. He was super artistic too… a musician. His art. Music. Sharing a passion, music and creativity. Orange. Represent it with orange. Creativity. Yep. So yellow… what would yellow be? Maybe Amelia is my yellow. She’s so cute. She’s Asian. Long, dark brown hair. Yep. Amelia. Adopted too, but that doesn’t matter. I guess that helped me too. She’s never wanted to meet or know her biological family. She says she’s happy where she is. Amelia… I guess, would be like the sunshine. Yellow sunshine in my life. I love her to death. She’s my best friend, my sister, and will always be. Green? The first thing I think of is the park. The park. I met him there. I guess green would be the starting of my new life. A new leaf. Hey, leaves are green too. So, I guess my green is where I decided my red was over. My red period. Sounds like I’m some famous poet. My green…. What happened? I met him, that’s the big thing. He was a foreign exchange student. University. Asked for help around campus. Amelia was a bit jealous when I got him, but she’s got Zac. She and Zac are so cute. My yellows. I guess He’s my green. Yep. So… what else? Blue. When he went back to Paris, I got depressed. I bet that’s my blue period. Ha-ha. I sound like a poet when I say that. Blue period. Dad passed away that year, and He was with me for that time… about a month… but then he had to leave. Life got in the way. One day, he phoned me. From Paris. I didn’t answer. The next time he texted, I broke up with him. Over text. I guess… I felt betrayed. He left me in my time of need. Looking back, it wasn’t his fault, but he was part of my blue. My blue period took so long to get over. One day I was crying myself to sleep. At 3 in the afternoon. I had nothing else to life for. I didn’t have enough energy to do anything about it. I heard footsteps, and decided whoever it was, it didn’t matter. Burglar? I didn’t care. Take whatever they want. Friends? Didn’t have any. Actually, that’s a lie. Amelia was over every day to help me. But she was out of town with Zac for that weekend. The He sat on my bed. Dried my tears. Wasn’t until I heard his voice I realized who it was. Him. I had broke his heart for no reason, ignored his pleas. I had nothing else to live for. He was there for me, when he knew I needed him. Looking back, he was there for me at the beginning of my blue. He held me when I found out about my dad, he helped mom and I plan the funeral. Why did he go to Paris then? His visa. The government. I hate the government; it took him away from me. But I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now. We got back together. He got me out of my depression. He was the first thought in my head when I woke up, and the only thing lulling me to sleep. He couldn’t live in the States, he had obligations in Paris. That’s okay. I’ll come to him. So what’s this, then? I’m not blue anymore. I guess I’m violet. I’m content. I’m happy. Happier then anything. Happier then I ever was. I’m violet. It’s my favorite color, I think. What did he say? He said his house was purple. I can call it violet. So I’m happy. This time in my life is happiness. My purple. My favorite color.
So I guess the question is… what’s my pot of gold? I know. I know what my gold is. Sebastian. Him. He’s my gold. He’s at the end of my rainbow. He’s been in almost every color of my rainbow. He’s my gold. Sebastian. I glance down at my left ring finger at my gold engagement ring. Tiffany. He said only the best for his girl. The Lucida ring. So expensive. He was my gold. Sebastian. The pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. At the end of everything, at the end of my rainbow, the only thing awaiting me is my Sebastian.
It will be one long flight until I get to Paris. Where my pot of gold is.
oh and sorry for the giant block of text. lol.
The Pot of Gold At The End Of My Rainbow
By Avree
Word Count: 1,384
I’m flying. High as a kite. No, I’m not on drugs. Drugs are bad. Well, in a way I’m on drugs. Musical ones, that’s all though. Vocals. Sigh. If only life was as perfect as his voice. But that doesn’t have anything to do with my story, no, not yet. Well, in a way it does, but not here, not this time or place. I’ll get to that, I promise. But no. Right now, I’m talking about taking off. Literally. I’m flying to Paris. To his house. Well, technically the airport, then I’m going to his house. But I’ll get there eventually. But nope, we’re just taking off. Well, we just took off. Above the city, passing the lights. Now I’m thinking of my friends and family. What are they doing? Are they missing me? Or am I another part of their life, once there, now gone. Like a good meal. Oh god, did I just compare myself to food? Apparently. It’s okay. I’ll get over it. I wish I had spaghetti, that’s a good meal. At least I don’t look like spaghetti. What? Oh, yeah, sorry. We’re flying. You and me. Across the world, to Paris, to see him. Looking down at my note book, I’m unaware of the words coming out of my fingertips. Lyrics, I think. What rhymes with rainbow? Somewhere… over the rainbow. That’s a good song. I always get it mixed up with Somewhere, off of West Side Story. That’s also a good song. I guess life is like a rainbow, in a way. If the colors are feelings, of passages of our life… what would mine be? What are the colors of the rainbow, again? Red…. Orange… yellow… blue… then… magenta? Nope, violet. I’m missing one… Green! That’s it. Green. Red. Okay, maybe my life is a rainbow. Red… what would that be? Passion? No. Anger? Maybe. My mom put me up for adoption. I’m her youngest child, but her husband didn’t want a fourth. So they packaged me up and sent me off so they could keep their perfect family. I met them once. All blonde. Blue eyes. All a bit tall, slender. My older half-sister had a perfect body, long straight blonde hair. Their eldest, my half-brother, was hot. Amelia would hit on him if we passed him in a mall. Of course. Oh, Amelia. I miss her. Paris will be hard. French people? I don’t speak French. Ah, well, he’ll teach me French. His native language. His accent flavors the most boring words and makes them the sexiest, romantic sounding sayings. What? Oh, right. Red. I think it’s anger. I hated myself when I was younger. A lot of anger growing up… being adopted gave me a different perspective on life. I think it had something to do with meeting my biological mom – seeing them happy in their perfect life, I felt like I had invaded their privacy and so they got rid of me. I guess that feeling channeled into everything else in my life. Mom and dad loved me so much, but I was always angry at them. For what? Why? Maybe…. Maybe because I felt like they were taking me away from my life. Happy to help the evils of biological parents, taking me away from where I belonged. Yep. Red = anger. That was the first stage in my life. What’s next, orange? Yeah. What’s orange? Creativity, I think. I remember that orange picture I drew. And my favorite orange pen. I took that anger from my red, fueled it into my writing and drawing and my music. I think that helped. I wasn’t angry as much. I guess I made my own hole in my world, my own niche to belong in. in my art. And my art is what led me to him. He loved my art. He was super artistic too… a musician. His art. Music. Sharing a passion, music and creativity. Orange. Represent it with orange. Creativity. Yep. So yellow… what would yellow be? Maybe Amelia is my yellow. She’s so cute. She’s Asian. Long, dark brown hair. Yep. Amelia. Adopted too, but that doesn’t matter. I guess that helped me too. She’s never wanted to meet or know her biological family. She says she’s happy where she is. Amelia… I guess, would be like the sunshine. Yellow sunshine in my life. I love her to death. She’s my best friend, my sister, and will always be. Green? The first thing I think of is the park. The park. I met him there. I guess green would be the starting of my new life. A new leaf. Hey, leaves are green too. So, I guess my green is where I decided my red was over. My red period. Sounds like I’m some famous poet. My green…. What happened? I met him, that’s the big thing. He was a foreign exchange student. University. Asked for help around campus. Amelia was a bit jealous when I got him, but she’s got Zac. She and Zac are so cute. My yellows. I guess He’s my green. Yep. So… what else? Blue. When he went back to Paris, I got depressed. I bet that’s my blue period. Ha-ha. I sound like a poet when I say that. Blue period. Dad passed away that year, and He was with me for that time… about a month… but then he had to leave. Life got in the way. One day, he phoned me. From Paris. I didn’t answer. The next time he texted, I broke up with him. Over text. I guess… I felt betrayed. He left me in my time of need. Looking back, it wasn’t his fault, but he was part of my blue. My blue period took so long to get over. One day I was crying myself to sleep. At 3 in the afternoon. I had nothing else to life for. I didn’t have enough energy to do anything about it. I heard footsteps, and decided whoever it was, it didn’t matter. Burglar? I didn’t care. Take whatever they want. Friends? Didn’t have any. Actually, that’s a lie. Amelia was over every day to help me. But she was out of town with Zac for that weekend. The He sat on my bed. Dried my tears. Wasn’t until I heard his voice I realized who it was. Him. I had broke his heart for no reason, ignored his pleas. I had nothing else to live for. He was there for me, when he knew I needed him. Looking back, he was there for me at the beginning of my blue. He held me when I found out about my dad, he helped mom and I plan the funeral. Why did he go to Paris then? His visa. The government. I hate the government; it took him away from me. But I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now. We got back together. He got me out of my depression. He was the first thought in my head when I woke up, and the only thing lulling me to sleep. He couldn’t live in the States, he had obligations in Paris. That’s okay. I’ll come to him. So what’s this, then? I’m not blue anymore. I guess I’m violet. I’m content. I’m happy. Happier then anything. Happier then I ever was. I’m violet. It’s my favorite color, I think. What did he say? He said his house was purple. I can call it violet. So I’m happy. This time in my life is happiness. My purple. My favorite color.
So I guess the question is… what’s my pot of gold? I know. I know what my gold is. Sebastian. Him. He’s my gold. He’s at the end of my rainbow. He’s been in almost every color of my rainbow. He’s my gold. Sebastian. I glance down at my left ring finger at my gold engagement ring. Tiffany. He said only the best for his girl. The Lucida ring. So expensive. He was my gold. Sebastian. The pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. At the end of everything, at the end of my rainbow, the only thing awaiting me is my Sebastian.
It will be one long flight until I get to Paris. Where my pot of gold is.
Aw, thanks :P Haven't seen Oliver in a LONG time, but I think that's the one song I remember hahaha.
I just sort of started... typing. and Lookie what came out! lawl
I just sort of started... typing. and Lookie what came out! lawl
Avree, you forgot indigo! :) Just teasing. Seriously, though, that was awesome. I've always loved your stream-of-consciousness writing. It kinda reminds me of The Doctor's rambling...you know, the guy with the bad hair who lives in a blue box? Sorry, now I'm rambling.
am I considered a nerd for instantly thinking that the Doctor doesn't have hair and you of all people should know that?
But im presuming you mean Dr. Who, which, btw (from what i saw tonight.. involving arm wrestling) had quite nice hair. Like my..... cute..... dog. hee hee. Note to self...self....
haha, remember when we had that argument over inigo vs. indigo?
oh. and thanks :P stream-of-consciousness. good. haha.
But im presuming you mean Dr. Who, which, btw (from what i saw tonight.. involving arm wrestling) had quite nice hair. Like my..... cute..... dog. hee hee. Note to self...self....
haha, remember when we had that argument over inigo vs. indigo?
oh. and thanks :P stream-of-consciousness. good. haha.
Awsome work avery. Well done. I also enjoys the dialog with you and Logan of locksley lol. I wrote a song called the artist and in researching the meanings of colors I found out that purple is actually symbolic of deep depression...which is why I found it very interesting that you chose purple as your happy stipe In your rainbow. Not at all saying it's wrong or whatever just observing how there can be so many meanings of the same word or concept on so many emotional sublevels. Ps your mental image of me chafing rainbows through the forsets made me laugh... In my mental image I'm in heels. Scary thought lol anyways goodnight.
Interesting point, Katrina. I can picture you chasing a rainbow, too...shouting "Come back here you stupid rainbow!" :)
Oh, Avree...you both win and lose nerd points for that. Yes, THAT Doctor is bald...but the other one's name is NOT Dr. Who...he's just The Doctor. :)
Going to post my entry soon.
Oh, Avree...you both win and lose nerd points for that. Yes, THAT Doctor is bald...but the other one's name is NOT Dr. Who...he's just The Doctor. :)
Going to post my entry soon.
No, I asked, Dr. Who?
(nice save, please?)
That Katrina :P hahaha, yes, heels and a frilly pink dress. don't you LOVE that. lawwlll
Yeah, i agree. I researched a couple meanings too. it represents eternal happiness, deep depression and passion. wierd, eh?
But you know, it's all sort of related. And purple personally makes me happy :) thanks :)
(nice save, please?)
That Katrina :P hahaha, yes, heels and a frilly pink dress. don't you LOVE that. lawwlll
Yeah, i agree. I researched a couple meanings too. it represents eternal happiness, deep depression and passion. wierd, eh?
But you know, it's all sort of related. And purple personally makes me happy :) thanks :)
Raggedy Anne’s Riddle1,649 words
“Who’s Anne?” Terry Wrixon asked Septimus Hart as they turned down another Chicago alley. “And do you know where you’re headed?”
Septimus glanced back at his blonde friend and raised his eyebrows with a smile. He stepped over an abandoned pile of bricks without looking at them.
“Afraid of getting lost in the big city, Terry?”
“Maybe. A bit. Big city alleys are about as safe as wearing a Superman cape in a bull pen.”
Septimus chuckled and didn’t bother correcting that statement. “This coming from the man who managed to keep a cheerful conduct when his hometown was terrorized for nearly five months by a bunch of non-physical entities turning his neighbors into nocturnal misfits.”
“Yeah, well, like you said, that was my hometown. I know how to deal with people there. Here things are confusing.”
“Just keep in mind that most of the city is controlled by one gang or another. We’re in the Southside, which recently has been Irish territory, although neighborhoods shift a lot. The city government can’t break the mobs, so most of the politicians take sides with them – in secret of course. Or maybe the mobs only still have power because of corrupt politicians; we’ll never know for certain. The police have been fighting corruption, particularly within their own ranks, since prohibition. I doubt there is a single cop in town now that would consider siding with the mobs on anything, but at the same time they’re scared about the chaos that could erupt if the mobs were to collapse.”
Terry shook his head. “No, I get all that. Politics, economics, social order and justice – that’s the easy stuff. My question is: Why the hell are they dyeing the river greener?”
“It’s March seventeenth and Chicago is filled with Catholics, both Irish and non-Irish. Saint Patrick’s Day is a big deal here.”
“But the river is already green.”
Septimus threw his hands in the air in a clear sign of forfeit. They turned out of the alley into another street crowded with pedestrians trying to work their way towards the river or parade route and cars trying in vain to find an unfilled and affordable parking garage. The two eighteen-year-olds didn’t so much as attempt vocal communication in the midst of the hullabaloo. Instead they focused on keeping each other in sight, going so far as to link arms, as they forced their way against the flow of the green river of people. They released each other immediately when they found another alley to head down.
“So, who is Anne again?”
“An informant, of sorts.”
“What, you expect her to just tell us where to find Liam O’Neal? Is she part of the Irish mob or something?”
“I seriously doubt she’ll just tell us. Besides, I don’t think the Irish hire women for their criminal jobs,” Septimus remarked lightly. Then, anticipating Terry’s next question, he added, “And I doubt she’s dating anyone in the mob either.”
“So how the hell is she supposed to know where to find O’Neal?”
“O’Neal is a business man. One doesn’t sell P-15s by staying hidden from potential buyers. When you know as much about Chicago as Raggedy Anne, you’re almost certain to know someone like O’Neal.”
Terry blinked. “Raggedy Anne? Why do you call her that?”
“Because – “ Septimus turned his head towards Terry and abruptly stopped both walking and talking. Then he turned around completely and said, “Anne. Nice to see you.”
Terry turned on his heels and found the woman Anne standing not three feet from where he came to a halt. The nickname immediately became apparent. Her clothes were so torn and dirty that pants were unrecognizable as denim and the shirt could have been a smock from the Middle Ages. Some tears revealed places that might’ve drawn the boys’ thoughts down forbidden alleys, except her skin was indistinguishable from her clothing, so they didn’t notice. Age, hair color, and even ethnicity were all rendered a mystery by her state. To straighten out her hair she’d have to shave it off and start over. She crouched, bent forward, as if unable to stand up straight – just like a Raggedy Anne doll.
Terry took several steps back until Septimus stood closer to the queer woman than he did. Septimus stood his ground, but Terry could tell, from his utter lack of expression on his face, that his friend was just as off put by the woman’s appearance as he was. She looked ready to fall apart at the seams and spill cotton onto the Chicago floor. Terry might’ve laughed at this image in his head were it not such a sad image in front of him.
Raggedy Anne raised a shaky finger and pointed it at Septimus. “You are an O’Connell.”
Terry almost didn’t catch Septimus’s half-second hesitation.
“My name is Septimus Hart. This is Terry Wrixon from North Carolina. We’re looking for a man named Liam O’Neal. He runs an illegal weapons operation, probably with a mob connection.”
Raggedy Anne’s eye narrowed. “Trade. I’ll give you a clue if you tell me why you want to know.”
That can’t be all it costs us, Terry thought. He kept his mouth shut, though. No one except his mother had ever managed to keep him silent, and this woman was somehow even scarier than even Mary Wrixon.
“He has a connection to a missing man named Evan Caleb Morrie that we’re searching for. A boy and a girl, both fifteen, have also gone missing while under his care.”
“Caleb.” The woman’s unfocused eyes seemed to light up. “He’s a good man. I liked his visits.”
Septimus nodded slowly. “So you know him. Do you know where Caleb is?”
“Not in Chicago,” Raggedy Anne answered vaguely.
Septimus sighed out his nose, his lips tight with frustration. “Okay, how about O’Neal?”
“Her aunt is very upset,” Raggedy Anne mused, apparently not listening.
“Who’s aunt?” he asked through clenched teeth.
She clarified: “The missing girl’s aunt. Joan McCarthy took in her brother’s daughter when her brother got drunk and beat his freak daughter. Meghan McCarthy is a freak – like me. Like him.”
She nodded at Terry, who flushed in spite of himself. Septimus struggled to bring everything back on topic.
“Yes, her aunt is worried. We’re trying to help by finding her. To find her, we need to find O’Neal.”
Raggedy Anne rolled her eyes, as if he was missing something obvious. “I want the freak to ask.”
“Wha – me?” Terry blurted out before Septimus could answer.
“I’m a freak too,” Septimus said firmly.
“No,” Raggedy Anne snapped. “You’re an O’Connell. We’re freaks.”
Septimus shook his head, but not in denial; in confusion. He looked back at Terry, who shrugged and complied in his thick southern accent.
“Okay. Where’s O’Neal?”
Her answer came immediately:
“O’Neal is a devious leprechaun
Who did break his ever most sacred bond
Hiding his ill-gotten, precious pot o’
White gold even from, oh yes, the rainbow.”
Terry stared at her in open-mouthed silence for a full thirty seconds. Then his face broke into a wide smile.
“A riddle? An honest-to-God riddle. That’s … that’s finer than a frog hair split three ways and sanded.”
Septimus stared at Terry.
“What? I like riddles.”
“No, it’s not – never mind.” He turned towards Raggedy Anne, but she had vanished. He decided not to comment on this either and addressed Terry again. “I expected her to give us a riddle. That’s how all the stories about her go.”
“You’d never met her before today?”
“No, but I’ve heard enough stories about her to know how to find her – or to let her find us, rather. I didn’t realize how dangerous she was though.”
Terry stared for a moment at where Raggedy Anne has been, and then shook his head. “How is she dangerous? To us, I mean.”
“I’ll explain later.”
“Does it have something to do with her calling you O’Connell?”
“Later,” Septimus repeated firmly. “For now, let’s focus on the riddle.”
Terry nodded, his usual cheerfulness returned in full force. “Okay, so O’Neal is hiding something precious from ‘the rainbow.’ That seems straightforward.”
“’White gold’ specifically. Not just anything precious, but something white and precious.”
Terry raised his eyebrows. “Cotton?”
“We’re not in the South, Terry. Nearest cotton field is a thousand miles away. I doubt the white gold is silver either.”
“The rainbow? Why do leprechauns usually hide things at the end of the rainbow?”
“So they can’t be found. There is no end of the rainbow, so it is the perfect place for a mythic creature to hide something from mortals.”
“A mythic being can break the laws of physics – O’Neal breaks the laws of man.” Terry smiled. “And what do criminals like to hide behind while pretending it doesn’t exist?”
“The mob,” Septimus answered immediately.
“Except O’Neal is hiding his ‘white gold’ from the rainbow – from his own mob. They can’t be happy about that.”
“You learn quick, Terry. But I know what ‘white gold’ is.”
“Don’t keep the viewers in suspense.”
“White power, white lady, white horse – cocaine. The current head of Chicago’s Irish mob hates drug dealing in his neighborhood. Murder, weapon trade, prostitution rings – they'll do anything but drugs.”
“A mob boss with standards. So we tell him one of his own is dealing drugs he investigates and finds out it’s true, then he’ll gladly deliver us O’Neal for questioning.”
The elation that had filled Septimus’s face at solving the riddle in short order suddenly drained away. “Oh, they’ll deliver us O’Neal, alright. Just not for questioning.”
“What’re talking about?”
“If we deliver this information to the mob boss and it doesn’t pan out, then we’ll probably be made examples of. If it does pan out, then we’ll have O’Neal’s head delivered to our front door step in a box.”
Terry felt his own excitement fade away, replaced by nausea.
“And it’ll be our fault.”
EDWARD!!!! YOU"RE WRITING!!!!! EEEEEEP!
I love your stories! i really like this one, it's so, so.... so RANDOM (haha, and i LOVE random) but fits perfectly. I thought you were gonna take it somewhere with the green river, but nope hehe. that was awesome :) totally could see raggedy anne :P Nice work ;)
and good job Mark! literal but nicely done nonetheless :P
Stuart, I loved the accent in yours i could hear it in my head... hee hee :D
good job guys!!!!
I love your stories! i really like this one, it's so, so.... so RANDOM (haha, and i LOVE random) but fits perfectly. I thought you were gonna take it somewhere with the green river, but nope hehe. that was awesome :) totally could see raggedy anne :P Nice work ;)
and good job Mark! literal but nicely done nonetheless :P
Stuart, I loved the accent in yours i could hear it in my head... hee hee :D
good job guys!!!!
gratias vobis ago. (I'm taking my sister's word that I typed that correctly.)Raggedy Anne is a character I've been wanting to write for some time.
The story was more or less random; I had a vague idea that detailed itself as I wrote. The thing about the Chicago dyeing the river green, however, was just some local festiveness that I wanted Terry to remark on. Chicago really does dye their already green river greener on Saint Patrick's Day, which is almost as passionately celebrated as Chirstmas.
I have a couple odd characters like that, floating around in my head, but I can never, ever figure how to put them in a story because they're sooo... ODD.
Well I assure you that it didn't come out as a vague idea :P That's cool, haha, did you see the news article and some people dying... i think it was the Fraser, i might be wrong... river neon green? lawl
Well I assure you that it didn't come out as a vague idea :P That's cool, haha, did you see the news article and some people dying... i think it was the Fraser, i might be wrong... river neon green? lawl
Great story, Edward! You've got me wondering what makes Terry a freak.
I thought I'd try something a little different for mine. It's in present tense...and here it is:
Title: We Are the Gold
Word Count: 560
Author: Logan of Locksley
The first major storm since the end of the world has passed, and the rain-soaked grass seems greener than ever before. Though the clouds have departed, the air is still heavy with mist. All six of us are soaking up the precious sunlight, now gloriously restored to its full splendor, and enjoying the contrast of the cool mist and the golden sun.
Nobody remembers who saw the rainbow first, but I’d prefer to believe we all noticed it together. The blue sky is so bright it almost hurts to look at, and the perfect shimmering arc is jubilant and extraordinary. We fall silent for a while, but then Jared starts laughing and puts his arm around Katie’s shoulder and says that it’s beautiful. He keeps laughing quietly and Katie asks him what’s so funny about it.
“I was just thinking that we’re all so simple, when you get down to it. Here we are, at the end of the world and everything we know has been shattered and torn apart and…and now we know it’ll be alright because there’s a rainbow.”
“Are you saying we’re a bunch of saps?” Kendrick asks.
“Nah, I’m just saying it doesn’t take much.” Jared replies. “Just a rainbow and some sunshine and a pretty girl and I’m happy.”
“It really is pretty.” Katie says, hugging Jared and looking up at the sky.
“Not as pretty as you are, sweetie.” Jared says, and kisses his wife. Some of us look away, some of us don’t, all of us enjoy the peace of the moment we find ourselves in. And then Kendrick tears up some grass and throws it at Jared and Katie and the moment is over but the peace remains. Jared lets go of Katie and throws himself at Kendrick and tackles his brother to the ground. Katie laughs and hugs Veronica. Sarah stands alone staring at the sky, alone until I go and stand beside her and her smile gets a little wider and so does mine.
“Nice day, hey bro?” She says quietly, and I laugh and give her a hug. “Though we aren’t exactly at the end of the rainbow.”
“Yeah.” I agree and turn away and more loudly I call out, “Hey, Jared! If this is the end of the rainbow, where’s my gold?”
“It’s right in front of us, I suppose.” Jared answers, his arms around Katie again. He kisses her cheek. “I think it’s Katie.”
“I think it’s you.” Katie laughs.
Still lying in the grass where Jared tackled him, Kendrick sits up and protests, “What about me? Aren’t I shiny?.”
Sarah goes and sits down beside him and tells him, “You’re very shiny.”
“Thanks, I think…”
“You’re welcome, I guess.”
We stand out there for hours, just enjoying the simple fact that we’re alive and together. We watch as the sun rises higher in the sky, and though the rainbow fades the gold remains and we’re still happy. Like Jared says, it doesn’t take much. Just some sunshine and a few good friends is all we need. Kendrick would call us a bunch of saps, but he does that all the time anyways. The warmth of the golden sun seems to dry away all the misery we had left and I come to realize that we have, indeed, found the gold at the end of the rainbow.
I thought I'd try something a little different for mine. It's in present tense...and here it is:
Title: We Are the Gold
Word Count: 560
Author: Logan of Locksley
The first major storm since the end of the world has passed, and the rain-soaked grass seems greener than ever before. Though the clouds have departed, the air is still heavy with mist. All six of us are soaking up the precious sunlight, now gloriously restored to its full splendor, and enjoying the contrast of the cool mist and the golden sun.
Nobody remembers who saw the rainbow first, but I’d prefer to believe we all noticed it together. The blue sky is so bright it almost hurts to look at, and the perfect shimmering arc is jubilant and extraordinary. We fall silent for a while, but then Jared starts laughing and puts his arm around Katie’s shoulder and says that it’s beautiful. He keeps laughing quietly and Katie asks him what’s so funny about it.
“I was just thinking that we’re all so simple, when you get down to it. Here we are, at the end of the world and everything we know has been shattered and torn apart and…and now we know it’ll be alright because there’s a rainbow.”
“Are you saying we’re a bunch of saps?” Kendrick asks.
“Nah, I’m just saying it doesn’t take much.” Jared replies. “Just a rainbow and some sunshine and a pretty girl and I’m happy.”
“It really is pretty.” Katie says, hugging Jared and looking up at the sky.
“Not as pretty as you are, sweetie.” Jared says, and kisses his wife. Some of us look away, some of us don’t, all of us enjoy the peace of the moment we find ourselves in. And then Kendrick tears up some grass and throws it at Jared and Katie and the moment is over but the peace remains. Jared lets go of Katie and throws himself at Kendrick and tackles his brother to the ground. Katie laughs and hugs Veronica. Sarah stands alone staring at the sky, alone until I go and stand beside her and her smile gets a little wider and so does mine.
“Nice day, hey bro?” She says quietly, and I laugh and give her a hug. “Though we aren’t exactly at the end of the rainbow.”
“Yeah.” I agree and turn away and more loudly I call out, “Hey, Jared! If this is the end of the rainbow, where’s my gold?”
“It’s right in front of us, I suppose.” Jared answers, his arms around Katie again. He kisses her cheek. “I think it’s Katie.”
“I think it’s you.” Katie laughs.
Still lying in the grass where Jared tackled him, Kendrick sits up and protests, “What about me? Aren’t I shiny?.”
Sarah goes and sits down beside him and tells him, “You’re very shiny.”
“Thanks, I think…”
“You’re welcome, I guess.”
We stand out there for hours, just enjoying the simple fact that we’re alive and together. We watch as the sun rises higher in the sky, and though the rainbow fades the gold remains and we’re still happy. Like Jared says, it doesn’t take much. Just some sunshine and a few good friends is all we need. Kendrick would call us a bunch of saps, but he does that all the time anyways. The warmth of the golden sun seems to dry away all the misery we had left and I come to realize that we have, indeed, found the gold at the end of the rainbow.
Apparently I am a sap too; I liked it Logan.
Awwww that was super cute :) heehee
'Aren't I shiny!?" NEW SAYING BOOYAH
'Aren't I shiny!?" NEW SAYING BOOYAH
Ha ha thanks guys. If liking rainbows and sunshine makes you a sap...yep, I'm pretty sappy. I like kittens too.
And a happy Saint Patrick's Day to everyone here. Great batch of stories.I bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.
In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The prayer is actually much longer.
The contest's results are here.Stuart, Avree, and Edward all tied in at first place. Good job guys.
Mark claimed second place.
And Logan claimed last place.
Thank you all for your participation!
AVREE!! YAY!! congrats to Avree, Stuart and Edward!!!I knew this one was gonna be close! lolMark,congrats as well. Ienjoyed yours also. We have some really talented people in this group and I am honored to be part of it. :)
Thanks guys, im surprised really :P
Congrats to everyone else, great job ;)
Congrats to everyone else, great job ;)
Can I write something about gold at the end of the rainbow with absolutely nothing to do with st. patty's?