Wistfully the dog gazed out over the water. The sandwich his owner had not been able to finish was floating away, moving teazingly with the waves. If he had not been tied down with a leash the dog would have jumped in the water after that sandwich. He had not yet had anything to eat today and his stomach was complaining. The sound of his owner's laugh brought his mind back to the ship. He jumped down from the railing just a split second before the leash was janked. Trotting obediently after his master the dog contemplated all the smells...
Ridiculous.
No, it is, it is actually ridiculous.
I haven't thought about him in months, haven't thought about him like that in years (...well, other than the odd hiccup, but I'm only human)
It is his birthday today. I don't even know how old he is.
I don't know if I care. I don't know if I should care.
I loved him - thought I loved him (did I ever anything-else him?) - for years. Lived with him for years. Wanted him, desperately, for years.
He never wanted me.
Loving someone who doesn't love you - never will - is...
Bobby crossed the street at precisely 11:15 that night, his umbrella head firmly in hand to keep the snow off his young head. He'd decided earlier that night he had to run away from home, had to get away from the toxicity before it killed him. His parents were insane, always yelling and throwing things, hitting each other.
Bobby crossed the street at precisely 11:15 that night. At the exact same time the car came speeding down the street, careening crazily through the snow and ice. The vehicle hit the twelve-year-old head on. Luckily for the boy, the impact instantly...
Poorly written!
So many misspellings!
Dis-jointed and non-sensical!
Your story did not make me cry or remember the way my mother's wrist smelled when she buttoned the top button of my new short sleeve plaid shirt from JC Penney's one spring day in 1978 when 5th grade was beginning to feel long in the tooth .
Also, run on sentences! More of them, please.
I was down. The car hit me straight on. I thought I was on vacation for the week but obviously the ambulance driver thought other wise.
The driver said that I was unconscious. obviously I wasn't with my eyes blinking, my chest slowly moving up and down, i was fully awake. I was out on the stretcher and into the red ambulance I went. The driver slammed my into the truck and drove me somewhere. I was hoping I could hitch a ride to the lab this way so I could tell boss. The driver went to the front of...
"hello Maggie." Said mother I couldn't believe that she was trying to talk to me now. After all the things she put me through, over a cup of tea! "Yes Mother?" I responded in a malicious tone. "Are you ready to apologize?" She said as though she was expecting it now. What was up with her and the stupid customs that she brought from England. "Yes Mother, I'm sorry about your stupid cup of tea and your stupid customs that make no sense here in AMERICA." I screamed at her. Seconds later i felt the white hot sting of a...
I stood in a Bollywood-style costume, obediently serving drinks to the guests at the Thomas' party tonight. It was a big one; "everyone who's anyone is here," in the words of Mrs. Thomas.
"A champagne, please," a man probably two years older than I said quietly. I looked up and saw piercing blue eyes and defined cheekbones - this guy was fine. Not like it'd ever matter, the Thomas' would never let their best teen servant date, but he was hot.
"Coming right up," I mumbled, seeming to have lost my confidence. I poured too much and spilled the extremely...
"I can't write something like that" I said gruffly.
It was in the darkened room as I stared upon the sunset of the days of the world.
"What are you talking about?" said the 2nd person in the room.
"Me" I said
"Just go with the prompt" said Darrin, the 3rd person.
"Okay" I sighed.
"Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway, clutching a Tec-9 in each hand. She kicked the door open and let loose a barrage of bullets. A hail of gunfire, proceeded by a red mist of blood. She went...
Spinning. Reams and reams of golden thread passed through her fingers as the spinning wheel conutinued on its endless spiral of revolutions. She had blisters now on all the fingers of her right hand. Blood seeped from under her nails and dulled the glow of the thread as it piled higher and higher on the floor beside her. She wondered what the point was but knew she couldn't stop. He would be back soon and then she would know her fate. Spinning. He said that if she got through all of it he would give her her freedom. She didn't...
He watched as she leaned against the tree, staring at him. "What?" he asked self-consciously as he shifted in his seat. "Do I have a booger?"
She laughed, stood up, and shook her head. "No, silly," she replied. "I'm just thinking." She walked over to him and looked down into his brown eyes. "Haven't you ever wanted to walk? I mean, sitting in that thing all day's gotta suck."
"I don't sit down all day!" Mark said to his friend. "You know that, Mary. You spend half the day at my house on the weekends."
"Yeah, I guess." She shrugged....