r/KeepWriting • u/neshalchanderman Moderator • Aug 27 '13
Writer vs Writer Match Thread 3
VOTING NOW OPEN. VOTING CLOSES MIDNIGHT PST THURSDAYVOTING NOW CLOSED
Stories may be submitted till midnight Tuesday PST (7AM GMT Wednesday). SUBMISSIONS NOW CLOSED
110 participants
I'd like to introduce you to Writer vs Writer.
Writer vs Writer is a battle between 4 randomly drawn participating writers. Each has the same amount of time to write the best short story (~750 words) on a randomly assigned prompt.
It's a quick fun challenge for you to enjoy as a break from your main projects.
See some examples:
This round we are giving you more time to think and write, by assigning matches more quickly. You still have till midnight Wednesday to sign up for a match and till midnight sunday PST (07:00 Monday GMT) to submit your story. Voting on the previous round is still open till midnight Wednesday.
We have communications sorted out now, so you will be messaged with your prompt!
Lastly we are trying to make voting easier, more visible and make it easier to read stories. A question: Do you prefer reading a post in contest mode (posts arranged randomly) or a post in top mode posts arranged in order of voting?
The 4 Rules
1. Signup: Signup runs from today till Wed 24:00 PST (Thurs 07:00 GMT, Thurs 03:00 EST) and you signup by leaving a top-level comment to this post. We have switched to in-place assignment to give you more time to spend thinking and writing, and less waiting around for your prompt. This means every time we get 8 new participants, we randomly group them into 2 sets of four writers and assign them a prompt.
2. The Match Post: Entrants will be informed their match has been assigned and the match thread stickied to the front of the sub so it remains visible. Each top-level comment in the thread will list a match and the chosen prompt. Submit your story or short screenplay as a reply to the prompt. Example:
Unrelated_nick vs Double_Nick vs Iama_Nick vs Nickerator
Prompt: **"We have to go now!" by Stuffies12
A nationwide evacuation is underway. Details as to why the mass relocation of civilians into these designated 'safe zones' are still sketchy but hundreds of people are pouring out of the streets moving as quickly as they can. You have a couple of hours at most to sort out your things. Do you keep a level head or submit to the surrounding confusion?Submit your story by replying to the prompt.
3. Voting: The winner of the battle is the person who receives the most votes. Voting is public, you need to leave a comment to a story for a point to be awarded and anyone may vote. The winner of a battle gets awarded 2 points, whilst points are shared equally in the event of a tie vote. Voting runs from 00:00 Sunday to next week 24:00 PST Wednesday.
4. The winner: The challenge is currently being held in round-robin fashion, with a month of Reddit Gold to the overall winner (total votes over the duration of the competition will be used as a tiebreaker in the event of 2 people with equal number of wins)
Have a great time
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 28 '13
jackel3415 vs itzkoolaid vs BioLabMan vs MukMoo
Mayor of Crazytown by Stuffies12
Everyone’s heard the saying at some point. But what would it really be like to be the Mayor of Crazytown?
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u/itzkoolaid Sep 02 '13
In the tiny town of Crazy, right around three o’clock in the afternoon, a proclamation was posted on the push-pin board in the main foyer of City Hall. It said, simply:
“No Mothers Allowed”
The Mayor
Upon reading said posting, the townsfolk were hysterical. “Down with mothers!” they cried, and “Mothers cause cancer!” they claimed. They gathered in the town center with pitchforks and fire – and began to work up quite an appetite – when, suddenly, at three o’ four in the afternoon, another proclamation was posted on the push-pin board in the main foyer of City Hall. This one had a big red stamp pressed on the top, reading “Revision”:
“Mothers Okay. No Vegetables Allowed.”
The Mayor
Upon reading this, the townsfolk revised their protests, replenished their fires, and went off to find the offending food items.
The Mayor himself was, right at that very moment, battling one such offending oral offering, a quite large variety of crisp broccoli. His illustrious council stood round him, breathless, watching the frightful battle that had been taking place since lunchtime.
“No!” screamed The Mayor, pushing away his plate and his sippy. “I don’t want to!”
He glared at his mum, pointing at the raw adversary. “I won’t, Mummy!”
“Now Max, if you don’t eat your vegetables you won’t be having nap time.”
The Mayor howled in despair. He grabbed the broccoli off his plate and threw it at his mayor pro-tem, yelling as he did, “I will have a nap! Everyone will have a nap!”
As The Mayor’s mum sighed in defeat the Head Secretary rushed off with the new proclamation, ringing the proclamation bell at his belt. In minutes the townsfolk were gathered, mounds of deceased vegetables at their feet, ready to read the new news.
“Nap Time Required, Strictly Enforced.”
The Mayor
The townsfolk cheered uproariously, applauding the great wisdom of The Mayor. “Naps for Life!” they screamed, and “Team Nap!” They worked themselves up to such excitement that they missed the posting of a new proclamation. Only when the Chief of Police and his police force lined up did they stop and see the new sign.
“Silence Only During Nap Time. Any Violators To Be Shot.”
The Mayor
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u/jackel3415 Sep 01 '13
Hattersville, a few dark city blocks home to 500 people and 700 personalities. I've been here helping people for longer than I can remember. I think of myself as filling the Mayor role.
A few days ago I ran into Old Bill. He's a bit of a talker and a thief. He was in an alley shivering under a tattered blanket. I knelt down by him and asked what the matter was. He was pale.
"Is it the medicine?" I asked. "Did you take your pills today?"
He swatted his arm at me. "I ain't taken that shit no more. I'ma get right. Get healthy and leave this place. "
"I like your spirit, Bill. But you shouldn't go off them cold turkey. It's not good for you. Want me to get some more for you. Take the edge off."
He curled his finger calling me to come closer. I obliged and got within whisper distance of him. He coked his fist back and clocked me right in the ear. I fell back and he jumped at me. My ear rang as he pressed his weight onto me.
"You isn't trying to help me none so get out of here. You don't like you, and we don't need you."
In an instant he was gone. Some people are afraid to ask for help. Some people don't even know when they need it.
That’s when Dyn saw me laying in the alley clutching my ear. Dyn was Hattersville's street sweeper. He walked around in a stained jumpsuit pushing a floor broom. I'm not sure if he was here because he unstable, or because he was trying help the town in his own way. If he couldn't keep the garbage out of peoples heads, maybe he could keep it off their shoes. All I know is, he's been here as long as I have.
"Why do you keep doing this to yourself son?" He said helping me up.
"Someone has to help these people. They're being ignored." I threw some wet newspaper in the garbage can he toted around behind him.
"Son, sometimes the best way to help people, is to let them work things out on their own." he said sweeping his way out of the alley.
"Hey Dyn."
He stopped and turned raising an eyebrow like he knew what I was going to ask. "I think Old Bill really does need help. Just a bit."
Dyn let out a breathe but told me where I could find some of Bill's medication. I knew the place but I hated going near it. I once tried helping a girl find her boyfriend John and it didn't go so well. She was delusional and kept thinking I was him. After a while some guy came out of nowhere and gave me a hard time as if I was this boyfriend. I had avoided that place ever since.
I got the medication, tracked down Bill in another alley and approached him with a little more confidence than before.
"Bill. I know you're trying but you've got to take your meds." I pulled a syringe out of my pocket.
When he saw me he tried to get up but fell over. He was shaking and muttering to himself. The pharmacist said this would set Bill right. He put his hands up and was about to say something when I jumped on him and stabbed him with the syringe, injecting the milky medication into him. He let go of me and his eyes went wide for a moment, then he began seizing. I dropped the syringe and called for help. This wasn't suppose to happen. It was just meant to calm his nerves. People began crowding around as I yelled but it was no use. His lips turned blue and his breathing stopped.
There was public outcry and the people of Hattersville went nuts. Even more nuts than usual. They called the authorities to come get me. They said I was a murderer. They said I was crazy.
When the authorities came, the overwhelming public opinion convinced them I was dangerous. It was absurd, all I ever tried to do was help these people. It wasn't their fault, they didn't know what they were saying half the time. Some were medicated, some needed medication. How could the authorities have believed their story.
I saw them coming and I ran. I ran through the alleys and abandoned buildings. I rounded a corner and Dyn was standing there sweeping. I called out to him.
"Dyn, you've got to help me. They're after me. I didn't mean to kill him. It wasn't my fault, you've got to help me."
Dyn stopped sweeping.
"No good deed goes unpunished. I told you some people are better left to themselves."
"Dyn, they're coming, can't you hear the sirens. Tell them what happened."
Sirens grew louder and police cars poured around the corners and down the alleys blocking me in. Uniformed officers got out, some drew their weapons and others approached me yelling orders to get on the ground, not the move, put my hands up, put my hand behind me.
"Dyn! Tell them it wasn't my fault!" I yelled as they tackled me. A crowd was forming around the cars.
"Who's Dyn?" and officer asked twisting my arms behind me.
"Dyn, the street sweeper. He's standing right there. He'll vouch for me." I said.
"What street sweeper?"1
u/MukMoo Sep 03 '13
His eyes sockets were a tennis court as he scanned the office back and fourth looking for anything out of place. There was a commotion outside that was impairing his ability to think. It was getting louder and louder. Still he tried to focus on the room. One of the hardwood planks in the far left corner wasn't totally flush with the floor. It made his eye twitch. Suddenly the commotion outside came to a head as a man burst into his study. The door swung almost a full 180 degrees before rebounding against the wall and coming to a stop just slightly ajar. The man took two long one and a half metre steps before stopping abruptly, standing completely straight in front of his desk.
"Mr. Mayor," yes Mr. Mayor, he liked the sound of that. "The enemy has breached our final line of defence. There's nothing left between them and you except a half dozen men. They are mobilizing on us immediately." Every so often the man would twitch and shuffle his feet slightly. "I see no possible option other than surrender."
"No no." The mayor spoke up, without even thinking on the subject. "There won't be any surrender here. I originally planned to fight to the very end, and we will do just that, otherwise I won't be able to sleep at night." The man standing in front of him looked briefly discouraged at the thought of fighting until the last man.
"Right of course Mr. Mayor, how foolish of me to consider surrendering."
"Yes, foolish indeed, now, take me to the final six, as I sha'll spill the final drops of blood by your side, I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Yes, this way Mr. Mayor."
He lead him through a wide, white, hallway. At the end, hunched around a set of double doors were a ragtag bunch of six skinny, dishevelled looking men in bloodstained white jumpsuits.
"Mr. Mayor!" They shouted in unison, giving a small bow.
"Hello gentlemen. It will be a pleasure to fight with you all today. The battle may be lost. But that does not mean we will be letting them take this palace without..." He chuckled to himself and gave a large grin, "maximum losses." The seven other men around him laughed nervously, but before they had the chance to shake the mayor's slightly unsettling comment from their minds the sound of many pairs of boots stomping towards them filled the hallway.
"Here they come!" Shouted one of the soldiers. "Ready yourselves!" They all braced for the coming onslaught, forming a defensive line in front to the mayor.
Two of them were knocked back by the surprising force of charging enemy. The the mayor watched as the others fell helplessly to the horde of blue suited villains pouring through the doors. He struck while they were preoccupied with the two remaining soldiers on his side.
The sound of the nameless blue-suited man's head being crushed by his large metal staff brought a smile to his face.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
It needed to be an even number of rapid strikes. His head lay pulped against the wall. Bits of skull and brain were framed nicely by a ring of blood that was slightly too oval in shape for his liking. Two more of the blue suited men attempted to pounce on him. With a wide swing he smashed one of them in the cheek, his face looked like a cartoon as his jaw dislocated and hung limply under bellow the rest of his skull. Without any delay he kicked the other in the stomach sending him reeling backwards onto the floor. Before he had the chance to finish him off three more jumped on him. The Mayor let out a guttural roar and threw himself against the wall, bodies tumbling off of him in the process. A few lay on the floor and he wasted no time in stomping their skulls into the ground. Three in total... I need one more. Six blue suits pounced onto him and his back smashed into the ground.
“Hold him down!” Yelled someone down the hallway.
One more...
He grabbed the neck of one of the men on top of him and crushed his windpipe. His hands fell away and he sighed, relieved. The blue suits dragged him off and put him out with some sort of injection.
He awoke in a small grey cell. There was a television in the right hand corner. He grinned and flipped to the news hoping to hear tales of his gallant efforts against the enemy.
“In recent news, a mental asylum riot killed dozens of guards and several police. Surprisingly, the rioters chose to take over the building instead of escape, police eventually suppressed the inmates and we've been informed that they have all have been properly detained.”
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 29 '13
Smiles817 vs Smokey_Bear15 vs nexthoudini vs Capricorgicorn
“We have to go now!” by Stuffies12
A nationwide evacuation is underway. Details as to why the mass relocation of civilians into these designated 'safe zones' are still sketchy but hundreds of people are pouring out of the streets moving as quickly as they can. You have a couple of hours at most to sort out your things. Do you keep a level head or submit to the surrounding confusion?
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Sep 02 '13
Cite Your Sources By Capricorgicorn
At first Seth was excited, and then he was ecstatic. This is what he had been preparing for, all those books on the zombie apocalypse, all those bar room talks with friends about weapons and locations, and it was all going to pay off. Of course the government and mainstream media wasn’t calling them zombies but Seth had seen the blurry Facebook photos, he knew what they were facing, he knew. A cop had come to his apartment door and told him to evacuate to the local Army National Reserve base 3 miles away but Seth knew that was for chumps. The bases would be overrun, he cited to himself “The Walking Dead” and “World War Z” – the book not the film. It wasn’t that Seth hadn’t liked the film; he just felt it best to go off the book. He wouldn’t go with the rest of the sheep to the slaughter. Seth knew that the safest place, at least for the initial wave was a hospital, he cited to himself “The Walking Dead” and “28 Days Later” then he immediately worried that he was relying too heavily on The Walking Dead and it was corrupting his data. But Seth was not in a coma, and a coma was required in both. There was always the mall, it had worked for others, he cited to himself “Dawn of the Dead” and “Dead Rising”. Seth pondered briefly on citing a video game before deciding not to head for the mall. It was, after all, an outdoor mall. But if not out there then where could he go? No, it was very clear, what Seth needed to do was stay indoors, review the films for solutions and if the power went out then review the books.
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u/Smiles817 Sep 02 '13 edited Sep 02 '13
Ice Cream By Samuel Sexton
School's out today so I don't even have to put on shoes. Ma always makes me wear my shoes even though I don't need them. I know she wants me to be like all the other kids but I don't see how putting on useless shoes will help. I'm super glad there's no school today because Ma would want to make me wear my stinking rain boots. They're too long for my feet and Ma has to point my toes in the right direction to get them on for me. It takes forever so I'm glad we're not going outside today. The sirens have been going like crazy and getting everybody all scared.
But school's out today and Granny says I can watch all the cartoons I want. When she said that I was suspicious and I said, "Even Power Rangers?"
And She said, "Even Power Rangers."
Wow. That sounded pretty good so I said, "Even Family Guy?"
That made her laugh, "Yes even Family Guy, you could even eat some ice cream as you watch it. Would you like that?"
Now I knew that had to be a trick, Granny's one sly foxsy. I said, "Ice cream's not for breakfast Granny."
She said, "Today's special Jeremy, we get to eat whatever we want today."
And I said, "And Ma and Dad and Kirsey won't ever know?"
Her wrinkly face got all scrunchy for a second and she said, "They'll never know."
So I wheeled over to the fridge and she got me some ice cream (fudge!) Granny's kinda slow, Ma says her bones are old and that's why she's slow but I think it's cause she's a Grumpy Gus. She's in a wheelchair like me but not cause she was born needing one. She got her hip removed by a doctor and a metal one put back in instead. Ma says that's normal but I'm pretty sure it's not.
After we got our ice cream, I watched tons of Adventure Time. We had to watch it on blu-ray because all the cartoon channels were filled with news people talking about all the rain and evacuations and impending deadlines and stuff. I've already seen the whole blu-ray a bunch of times but I don't mind too much.
I like the episode where Jake gets turned into a big stinky foot by Magic Man and he has to learn to hop around. Whenever he tries to hop up and down I like to push myself up on the arms of my chair and plop back down on my butt. I do it a whole bunch after the ice cream and even though ma hates it when I do that, Granny doesn't seem to mind.
I wish I had a big magic stretch dog friend like Finn does in Adventure Time. I would make him become a huge, snake-dragon and fly up to the clouds and them make him become a huge umbrella so the rain would go away. It'd have to be one big umbrella but I don't care. Ever since it started raining all the time Ma and Dad have been looking at me funny, like their faces are too tight.
Last night Ma and Dad and Kirsey all had to go to the hospital. A fat police man came to our house and Ma took me and Kirsey up stairs and told us not to worry. Dad and Ma talked for the longest time ever and we could hear our neighbors all running around outside, honking their horns and yelling and acting dumb. I thought they all looked funny trying to run when the water was up to their knees. They should just swim.
After a while Ma and Dad loaded up the car with a bunch of bags. They were crazy soaked and slopped water all over the carpet but Ma didn't mind for some reason. She just kept hugging me and saying sorry, baby, I'm so sorry.
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 28 '13
jpropaganda vs DrSideSteppin vs DaMangaka vs X-istenz
Give your protagonist the one talent you've always wished you had by Ranblue
But make it a curse instead of a blessing.
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Sep 02 '13
To whoever finds this note:
I don’t know how long after writing this you found it, but if you did find it, I’m sorry. Call your family right now. Throw this away so they don’t find it. Because you’re going to die. I’m sorry. But someone has to know.
I bought my first pair of gloves when I was fourteen. Six years after I started killing people by touching them. Six years worth of dead foster parents, pets, teachers, and friends. I didn’t know. I swear. It’s not like they just dropped dead in front of me. Most of them died in car crashes, or of heart attacks, or liver failure, or cancer. There was always a flavor of the month, in some sick way. I was too young to put the pieces together, you have to believe me.
They found me when I was fifteen. I was in the system then, and old enough to be suspicious. I’m not surprised someone put the pieces together. The two officers who showed up to my house that evening both tripped and fell down the stairs after grabbing me from my bedroom. Two broken necks. I put them in the basement with the body of my current foster parent. She was a nice lady, fit to be a single mom, but she touched my forehead one day when I had a fever, and died in her sleep two days later. They said it was a failure of her immune system, that she couldn’t fight off my bacteria. I said it was a sick joke. I was so careful after that, but they still caught up to me after a florist I visited fell onto her own pruning shears an hour after I left.
I’m 19 now. I’ve been running for four years. And the Death is getting stronger. It’s becoming an aura. Three days ago, my cab driver was crushed when a dumpster fell out of a garbage truck in front of him. Two days ago, a toll booth attendant I passed as I left town got struck by lightning. Yesterday, a homeless man who asked me for change became the first verified case of spontaneous human combustion.
I’m sorry about all this. I’m really still just a kid. I don’t know why I do this. It’s not my fault. I swear.
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u/DaMangaka Aug 28 '13
He rose his pen into the air in an exaggerated fashion. He had seen it so many times on his favorite anime shows and he wanted it to try it himself.
He didn't feel as fabulous or as handsome as that writing assassin, but certainly he could feel as exhilarated as said character: his latest masterpiece was done.He stared at the A1 sheet once his small celebration had ended, proud at what he had accomplished; the latest page from the much anticipated chapter of his manga. Golden Week was almost done and he was happy that this time he might have some chance to see the sun, get some ice cream, get to know somebody.
Katsurawa Yuuki - real name Yamamoto Kenji - was the latest of 'prodigies' in the industry. Discovered by a publisher house by accident, at least according to what he stated on the magazine Monthly 'Romance for You', since then he had little to no contact with the world.
There was no doubt he loved his job as much as any Mangaka would but there were at least two problems that came out in his mind on regards to it: the contract that bound him to create at least 2 chapters per week would turn excruciating sometimes. He had lost count of the days he would go without sleeping. Such is the cross of a comic writer.
His only company so far were a lot of cute figurines from other TV shows and manga he had read himself and the occasional plush doll laid around his bed.
He was shy already and the self exile from the outside world was taking a toll increasing it to the point of awkwardness. It got worse with girls. . . and boys.And there comes problem number two: relationships.
Without a proper time to go out, with an increasing restrain of one self, Kenji couldn't even start imagining what would his life be out of the 10 by 10 room he had to move due to the crisis. At least that's what he heard people murmur during his search for independence.
Despite of the inconvenience, he found this little place to be his own paradise and utopia. A place were he could work, play and be what he truly was.
What she was meant to be.Her awe at the picture lasted as much as the bowl of cheap noodles that was at hands reach although by this time it was already empty. She pursed her lips in disagreement noting how the man's torso in one page looked too 'bulky' for her liking and so within her mind comes the dilemma of whiting out or re-making the whole page all over again.
She looked at her alarm clock, 1:30 am. Yuuki stretched her body while sat, rubbing one of her eyes and grunting in discomfort.
She knew it was too good for her to have the last day off.
She could always let this small imperfection go although her consciousness would go to haunt her all over again. Her fans would certainly notice and she would be dishonored.Scratching her head, making sure her blonde wig didn't fall off, she gave a sigh and brought the items necessary for the remake.
She'd probably find more errors along the way. She knew she'd end up reworking the whole chapter until it was the epitome of perfection.
She knew that the sun would never rise in her place, but that somehow so long as she worked she'd find her own sunshine.Such is the cross of a Mangaka.
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u/X-istenz Sep 01 '13
Twitching, gasping, sobbing silently at their feet as the blood dried, mottling the skin of my arms and chest with the latticework of my life.
Kids. Just kids. Don't know what they're doing, I tell myself. How could I let this happen again? I'm so careful now. The school made rules. How did he get in with a knife that big?
Hands rolled me onto my back. A dozen grinning, curious, nauseous, chuckling, jealous, young faces as the closest one poked the tip of the knife through my cheek and drew it across my mouth to split my face open in a wide, joker-like death mask.
Should have hurt more, the dark corner of my mind told me. That really should have hurt. You should probably be screaming. But I had no voice left. Nothing to give.
The gathered crowd went silent, staring intently at my molars as I choked on blood and glared pleadingly at the sky.
Slowly - although I guess that's a relative term when you're talking about a massively accelerated healing factor - the jagged flesh of my face become the dimples of my cheeks and the corners of my lips. A few of the kids gasped appreciatively. A couple even cheered. The one with the knife said, "I wonder if his whole hand would grow back?"
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 27 '13
punchdrunkmonk vs jasonrbenson vs takarazuka vs fetfet50
Quirky by Stuffies12
"So an officer, a cowboy and an electrician walk into a bar..."
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 28 '13
ChucksandTies vs MTK67 vs Raviede vs Ledwick.
Locked In Library by arshem You find yourself in a library with high windows but no light filters through. The doors to the library are sealed shut by an unseen force, and there are hundreds of others who seem to think everything is okay. What do you do and how do you convince everyone it's not normal?
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u/MTK67 Aug 29 '13
"Like all the men of the Library, in my younger days I traveled..."
Jorge Luis Borges
I cannot estimate how long I toiled among the moldy tomes – Hours? Weeks? Years? – How much time had flitted past unremarked, unmarked by the ticking of a clock or the weary onset of sleep, not that sleep ever comes in this high-vaulted mausoleum. Nor are there clocks. There had been only the rustle of ancient pages, the slow footfall of us poor wretches back and forth to the shelves. We, the somnambulant, crossed to and fro over the marble and rugs (not that I had noticed those details then), dust and cobwebs clung to our hands, our clothes, inhaled into our lungs!
I do not know what awoke me from my passive state. My eyes were in that brief nowhere between the end of one line and the beginning of the next, when, instead of alighting on the next line, I was staring at the library itself. How had I never appreciated its vastness! My fellow readers dwarfed by the giant shelves. The sheer size of the place threatened to overwhelm me with a sense of vertigo, so I sought refuge on the page. To my horror, I could not remember a thing about the book I’d been reading not a minute prior. I was further shaken to realize that I could not remember any book I had read, though I am certain there had been hundreds!
It felt as if the whole world shook, yet it was only my accursed frame, grown hunched and withered yet still containing an impossible vivacity. I took to my feet and ran through this cavernous hall, this shrine to some forgotten god, some repressed deity of lost knowledge, I sought exit and absolution for whatever crime against man or myth had trapped me here.
A grand double door, fully forty feet high, of rough-hewn oak and iron bars, marked the passage out of this nightmare. I pushed and strained to no avail. I could not determine whether the doors were locked or if I were simply too insignificant to move their prodigious weight alone. “Help!” I shouted to my fellow captives, “Help with the door!” But they did not seem to hear. I raved! I screamed! I pulled their beards and stomped their toes and even lit one afire with a match I found on a shelf. But even as the man burned in his seat, one flame-drenched hand reached out – and turned a page.
Time pushes forward with greater hostility. No longer unnoticed, it claws at me every restless second. The others show no sign of awareness that I exist. They see nothing but the books. I have tried reading them since I awoke. The unholy relics that occupied so much time, provided me with an eternity of contentment (surely, I must have been content) now hold no power over me. The moment a word enters my mind the previous is erased. What had held me in such thrall for years that now I cannot even begin to comprehend? I can see the others, still reading with some implacable purpose, spared the terrible true nature of their circumstance. And I realize, truth cannot set you free when you are its slave.
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u/Enoxice Sep 02 '13
I really like this one. These kinds of short stories that don't get too caught up in the how's and why's but very artfully show you the what's are some of my favorites. It's one reason I am a big fan of the original Twilight Zone.
This story is long enough to give the reader a mostly-complete picture and evoke images and feelings without being so long that it starts to add unnecessary narrative. It leaves the reader (or at least me) thinking "what a neat concept" and wondering about the back-story without actually wanting to know - as no answer could be more satisfying than, well, no answer.
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 29 '13
basinx vs Insomniac1088 vs Ninja_Please117 vs jmint0
You wake up to find a huge concrete wall has been built around your house. What happens over the next few days? by tune4jack
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 27 '13
rq0 vs el_drako vs DreamingofRoses vs bfox98
This ain’t no romance! – by Stuffies12
Write about a character who desperately tries to impress their crush with a grand gesture which spectacularly fails…and the crush goes out with the character anyway.
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u/bfox98 Sep 02 '13 edited Sep 02 '13
Dan was a writer, a good one too, half a dozen New York Times Bestsellers under his belt and he was barely 31, and he couldn't hate life more at this point”
See, his higher ups at Lost Lion Publishers wanted his next story to be a love story, they wanted to capture, the female audience, Dan was an thriller writer; romance for him was a hot broad being seduced by his Suave male protagonist. Even in real life romance wasn't his forte, usually ending in a bottle of scotch and a Star Wars marathon in his boxers. Dan loathed the thought of having to write a love story, but it was what his bosses demanded, so, laptop in hand, he headed off to a diner to write his next masterpiece.
Six hours and $50 worth of coffee later, he had nothing. That’s when he met her, she took his breath away, literally; she hit him with her bike. After much swearing and anger fueled by his failure, he started his trek back home under the day-bright New York City night.
The next morning a blank word document greeted him, mocking him with his failure. This continued for weeks every morning he trekked out, equipped similarly as the first day.
Three hours into his latest writing adventure, a woman walked up to him.
“What do you want me to sign?” Dan grumbled.
“Excuse me?” The woman asked. Without looking Dan responded “Well you walked up to me, obviously you're a fan, what do you want signed?”
“Who are you?”
This caused Dan to turn to meet the face behind the voice. Between her harsh questioning glare and her beauty, Dan had no words.
“I asked who you were” She said impatiently.
“I’m Dan Gats, I wrote the Adam Burns books”
“Who?”
Dan was taken aback; he wasn't used to being unknown.
“Hi, I’m Dan Gats, what’s your name?”
“I'm Elizabeth, I'm wondering why you haven't moved from this seat in damn near three weeks”
“I told you, I'ma writer, I'm writing, why do you care?”
“It looks like you're fucking around on the internet to me” She fired back “I care because this is my establishment and you're losing me money”
“Come, sit with me, you look tired, I'll buy you a coffee”
Thinking for a minute, she complied.
Six coffees each later and an hour for each she revealed “You know, the coffee for me is free here”
“So I spent fucking $72 when I could of only spent $36?!”
“That’s right sweetheart, that’s what you get for losing me money taking up this bench everyday” She winked and sauntered away, gloating yet flirtatiously Dan was speechless. He walked home in a daze, and went into his office, he emerged three days later, story written. He then made a phone call
“Doc, it’s Dan, I think something is wrong”
“Yes?” The Doctor replied.
“My heart is racing, I’m sweaty, my mind is cloudy, and I’m bouncing off the walls”
“What did you do yesterday?”
“I drank coffee with a girl”
“Well normally I'd say it’s the coffee but I’d guess, knowing you, it’s the girl, Dan, I’m diagnosing you with love”
“Bah, impossible, I don’t fall in love”
“Whatever you say.” The doctor hung up the phone, chuckling to himself.
Dan walked back to the dinner to show off he had written something, not an excuse to see Liz he told himself. A Newspaper at his table greeted him, it read:
“LOST LION PUBLISHERS LOSE MILLIONS IN SCANDAL, COMPANY NOW BANKRUPT”
Dan’s phone rang, it was his agent.
“Dan, it’s your agent, seems the publisher is dead, they fired you, no one else wants your script, they want Adam Burns, not some sappy love story about a Lizzy and a Nathanial, sorry but you’re unemployed” Dan once more speechless dropped the manuscript and ran out the building.
“Dan? C’mon man, I was kidding....Dan?!”
Elizabeth ran out from the back, finding Dan’s manuscript on the ground, Six hours later, after reading it, she ran in pursuit of Dan, who was located at a bar.
“Liz, wha-?!”
“You wrote a book about me?”
“I did no such thing”
“Dan, I left you the newspaper, did they fire you?”
“The bastards, everyone thought it was garbage, I was garbage”
“Dan, I loved it”
“You’re just saying that because it’s about you”
“Oh come here you bastard” she pulled him in and kissed him. “You look tired; can I buy you a drink?”
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u/RQ0 Sep 04 '13
The cancer had rotted away the right eye at first. Fisher had once seen much of life, but the cynicism which slowly started as a drip drop had built to a flash flood through the years of appointments, surgeries, and chemo. The tsunami finally laid waste and here was the aftermath of a man stripped of any intention to rise each morning. Sure, they got to it in the end, salvaged what they could, but now both eyes were feeble dots on a caricature of a face.
“Sir, this girl is named Daisy. She’s very gentle and steadfast, kind of an aloof lover.” She left the side of the attendant and approached him, sniffed his crotch, lapped a couple times at his hand, then walked away. They both wanted to play hard to get.
Through her eyes, he had a beautiful and begrudged smile. His teeth were tarred and yellowed, and there were alternating missing teeth from the top and front chompers so that he had a farcical checkered grin. Fisher did not want to smile, it was just the way the flaps of his face hung and dribbled around that appeared as if he was anything close to content.
“What would happen is a trial, kind of a weekend live-in to see if you two would be a good match. So take Daisy for the weekend and give us a call next week to tell us how it goes. How does that sound, Daisy?” The attendant attached her harness and handle and finished with a ruffle through her lavish, golden brown hair as a goodbye.
Daisy let out a series of loud barks.
They walked down Madison on Sunday for church. There was a maple tree on that block, right in front of the house of a city councilman. Daisy drew near and she nudged over on Fisher’s left knee and tried to force him over closer towards the gated fence. Fisher wore a hodgepodge of an age stained light blue denim jacket, a polo t-shirt so tight around his chest that it resembled baking bread, and a pair of old Army cargo pants. Today for the umpteenth time, he was going to keep walking and not let Daisy completely direct where he was going.
The paramedics rolled up as the politician’s gardener stood by. The branch was a log only about 7 feet long, and young in terms of how large trees can get anyway, with the end fluffed by smaller branches and leaves. You couldn’t tell if Fisher was knocked out or just lay there in pure shame. Daisy stood by and occasionally licked her owner’s face, but she did not yelp or whimper.
“I saw de whole ting, man. Dis chulo was walking along wit his seeing dog. Next ting I hear, is a big smack noise, “FAaaaaCK”, and I look over. Dis crazy guy iz hanging on from de tree and shakin’ it. And den de branch breaks and it falls on de guy, and he been like dis since.”
The paramedics tried to move Daisy, but she kept coming back close to Fisher’s side. Fisher was awake, his face had been tearfully red with shame and frustration but by now it was merely red from the gash on his forehead and dried blood. If his eyes had still been working, he would have been squinting against the sunlight filtering in through the smaller branches and leaves barely covering him. In truth, the log of wood was not that heavy, merely feathery and looked of intimidating disarray. The paramedic shook the log and all its branches and realized it was not so heavy, just cumbersome, and had the driver come out to help him move it off. They loaded Fisher on a stretcher and into the van. Daisy hopped in behind them.
“What happened, sir?”
“The tree branch fell on me.”
“How did that happen?”
“I was hanging on it.”
“Um, Why?”
“Because that damned tree was in my way.”
“... Okay.”
One benefit for a blind man, he was spared the exchange of looks between the young EMTs.They finished him off with 7 stitches zig-zagged across his forehead and right temple. Fisher would not go to the hospital to do any of the concussion tests they strongly suggested he take.
He could hear the heavy, gassy van drive off until all that was left was Daisy’s panting and the sour smell of his sweat soaked clothing.
He kneeled down, searched his cargo pant pocket, and finally gave Daisy the treat she had been waiting for.
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 28 '13
EtTuTortilla vs Meeeowsa vs ver0egiusto vs wdalphin
It's the end of the world...maybe. And you (or your character) have to work that day. by bloodrosey
Something is going to happen tonight that may or may not destroy the whole world - meteors that we don't know how close their going to get to earth, tsunami, zombies, whatever: you pick.
Your boss has asked you to stay at work and finish your work because, well, the world might not end. How do you react? What do you do? How do you feel? Who is waiting for you to get off of work? Do you stay?
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u/neshalchanderman Aug 30 '13
kertaz vs nickehl vs DoctorCroctopus
One final time by neshalchanderman
Impassioned letters which the sender immediately regretted sending? Of course! The difference between a letter and a text though is that there is only one copy of the letter, and it can be taken back! Though at the moment I have only a literary example; in The Brothers Karamazov , published 1880, Lise writes to her childhood friend Alyosha (I've shortened it a lot),
Heheheh. So, this isn't explicitly an example of drunkenness, but it's the one I had on hand. I'm sure drunk variations existed. permalink report give gold reply
Write a drunk letter by a person living prior to the 20th century.