The scariest experience in my life by BrunoKopte, literature
Literature
The scariest experience in my life
I was assaulted eight times, successfully. I avoided another four or so attempts. All of them were at daylight, so I find it funny when people fear going out at night more than during the day. None of them weren't the scariest experience, specially the time one of the thieves gave me my shoes back because his were newer. Idiot, those shoes were so worn because of how good they were.
Some months ago, I was run over by a car near my house. It was very, very light for a running over, I went up right after, talked to the driver, he took me to the clinic. In the end, only bruises and muscle pains. The x-rays and examinations showed that t
~plzguin (https://www.deviantart.com/plzguin) :iconplzguin: :iconplzguin: :iconplzguin:
I am offering literature commissions for the following forms, genres and lengths ^_*
FORMS I will write in
- Fiction Prose
- Lyric poetry
- Narrative Poetry
- Prose poetry
- Fan fiction*
- Play Script
- Prose x script (UNIQUE OFFER!!)
GENRES I will work with
- Erotica
- Satire
- Slice of life
- Drama
- Tragedy
- Romance
- Fantasy
AMOUNT I offer
- Mini scene/ poem (< 550 words
Writers rarely work alone and often require the help of a different spiritual entity as a source of inspiration. This spiritual entity is often referred to as “the voice inside the head” or “the imaginary friend” or, in classical English literature, “the muse” (let's just call it that).
However, the muse and the writer do not always co-exist peacefully. There are various things that the writer must compromise for her muse.
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For example, a writer often needs to:
1. Compromise other hobbies…
WRITER: I’m hooome!
MUSE: You&r
1. As a writer, saying random crap (and receiving unnecessary attention) is...
Normal...
* * *
In class...
MICHELLE: (reading a handout) So Jane Seymour was the third wife of Henry VIII.
ME: Mmm... (Thinking to self) But then how could a male character be that good-looking after the gun fight...? It wouldn't make sense unless--
MICHELLE: (Taps me) Hey? Do you get this?
ME: (slams right hand onto desk) Of course!
MICHELLE: Huh?
ME: (Looks up with a euphoric expression) He must be metro-sexual!
MICHELLE: (Glancing at the other staring people) Er...
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I saw as the grey clouds crept over the city.
I saw him kneel at her feet, holding out a little square box, his head bowed respectfully, wearing a charming smile that I never saw, sounding soft tones I never heard. I saw him turn his smouldering eyes to her long wavy tresses of brown hair; her stark green eyes; her perfectly rounded breasts that fitted in his large hand; her tiny waist bound by a raven-black ribbon sash; her smooth, pale legs folded over like a closed palace corridor leading to a room filled with the jewels and diamonds of a young princess; her small feet squeezed into wooden sandals meticulously carved out of oak. I saw him
Prompt 14 Fly
She can see the birds wheeling in the sky above her head. They're so free, not tied down by anything. They are creatures she can never be.
"Penelope? Are you alright?" Someone's caught her.
"Oh, hey General Townsend." Figures it'd be him to interrupt her moment of peace.
"I told you not to call me that, remember? I left the military behind a long time ago." He's one to talk, he left the military the same time she did, didn't he?
"I don't really think 3 years is a very long time. Sir. Besides, "Rebel Leader" just doesn't have the same ring to it," she says.
It's silent for awhile. She hopes the general will get the
Daily Drabble: Starstruck by AutumnsBandit, literature
Literature
Daily Drabble: Starstruck
He stared out at the vast, inky blackness of it all, stars pooling in the emptiness of his eyes. Galaxies danced on the edges of vision, shying away from the glass and the metal that slid softly through the silence.
He stared out at the vast, inky blackness of it all, searching for the spark deep inside that had led him this far, out into the dark.
They had taken the spark when the craft went spiralling down in flames and silent screams, leaving him to drift on in pining aloneness.
He stared out, and saw beauty in the silence.
Daily Drabble: Divine by AutumnsBandit, literature
Literature
Daily Drabble: Divine
She danced, moonlight kissing her naked curves, arms raised to embrace the silver disk. Red hair flowed with each careful movement, dripping down her pale back and trickling across her closed eyes.
Watching from the bushes, the witch-finder knew he should be pulling her towards retribution in flames but he couldn't. God help him, but she was beautiful. A secret part of him, the part that frowned each time he condemned a woman to hell fire, smiled at his divine torment. He couldn't help himself. A witch? Yes. A seductress? God yes. But God help him, she was so beautiful.