September 2010
7 posts
Candles
This is part of a short story I’m writing.
Ethan sat back in his chair and reached into his jacket pocket.
He enjoyed keeping his hands in his pockets. They didn’t have any pressure there. They could exist without focus.
One finger found its way onto a small box. He pulled it out of the pocket and tossed it onto the table in front of him. A small, yellow box. Birthday candles. ...
This Place
PROMPT: Freewrite about a setting.
… this is pretty abstract.
It’s lush and green. It’s more beautiful than it should be, really. It’s always overcast, the mist makes you feel alive. Heat upon your skin is not as welcome. The sprinklers add to the mist. It’s wet, it’s alive, you are part of it. It certainly doesn’t belong in a LA. It’s a palace of solitude, but a good solitude. A...
Scotch Plains
PROMPT: Write a story in between 250-300 words that begins with “I could tell the minute I got in the door and dropped my bag, I wasn’t staying.”
I could tell the minute I got in the door and dropped my bag, I wasn’t staying.
The motel room was boring and reminiscent of a morgue. I hadn’t come this far to sit here and twiddle my thumbs. I had made it, I had done it. There was no...
