Free Write

Hodizzle · 02-18-2009, 05:39 AM

So, we are going to try this again. At times it works pretty well and at others it doesn't. This is a remake of Sidespin's thread based of Bunneh's thread.

Basically, I will provide you with a prompt, and you will use that to write something. Anything really. Don't worry about correcting it or even having a clear goal in sight. Just write until you feel you want to stop. I will also be joining in.

Prompt:

Quote:

Who was it....

Okay, get writing. Please.

Hodizzle · 02-23-2009, 07:25 AM

C'mon guys. I was hoping SOMEONE would post in here. But whatever, hopefully someone decides to do this. It's REALLY easy and only takes a couple minutes and requires NO writing talent.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On tht fateful night, she was found laying in the grass under the light of the moon.

"Two hundred fifty-six, two hundred fity seven..." she counted, referring to the abundance of stars in the sky.

He sat down next to her. Something about this girl had drawn him here, and he needed to figure out what it was. She didn't seem...quite all there, but maybe she was a genius in diguise. He was curious as to why she was counting the stars instead of simply enjoying them, but he didn't have the heart to disturb her. Afterall, he didn't see how she would be able to continue counting if he made her lose her place.

So, he rested in the grass, occassionally stealing glances at her and enjoying te beautiful night. She had a rather homely face, to be honest. Her nose was a little large and her eyes set a little too far apart. The acne scars didn't help either. And her body...well, her body wasn't much to brag about either. Not bad, but not too good either. She had the body of someone with an average metabolism but who rarely exercised. A little bit of tummy flab, and entirely undefined muscles. But even so, there was something mysteious and arousing about her.

jagass · 02-23-2009, 08:00 AM

Guys this looks like interesting...

cookieface · 02-25-2009, 01:30 AM

If I wrote a post, does it have to add to your paragraph, or can it be something totally different that begins with "On that fateful night..."?

Hodizzle · 02-25-2009, 03:58 AM

It can be anything you want inspired by the prompt (On the fateful night). There are really no rules. YOu can continue from where I left off or you can start something new. You don't even have to use those words if you don't want to.

Makkura42 · 03-02-2009, 05:26 AM

The rain tapped quietly against the window. I sat, book in hand, thumbing through some self-important philosophy. Subjectivity this, illusions that. "What ever happened to good old ethical hedonism?", I thought, taking another sip of my wonderful wine.

Clattering downstairs. Loud noises. Throngs of children screaming. Baby crying. Spongebob. Loud pitter-patter of footsteps outside my study door. Have they no decency?!

Shaking my head, I lowered it back to the book. I don't know why I even bother reading these things. Everything I ever needed to know, I learned in one of two places. An alley or an orgy. It just so happens that a combination of the two resulted in my being stuck with these dreaded children for the week.

I felt a deep disturbance in my stomach. I lurched forward, clutching desperately to both the book and my rumbling gut. The book fell from my hand and struck the ancient wood of the floor loudly as I lurched forward from my chair, to my knees.

Laughter echoed in my ears. Dark figures. Vengeance.

Those little fuckers put ipecac in my wine. Again.

The world had never known such wrath and spank the likes of which occured on that fateful night.

~~*Nikki ♥*~~ · 03-11-2009, 04:03 AM

He couldn't handle it.
The lingering disgustingness creeping through his body, day in and day out...
Because he knew what happened on that dark, fateful night.
He hates himself for it, everytime he thinks about it...
Which is almost everything he even mutters a thought to himself.
"Why did I do it?" He askes himself repeatetly.
"Who can I tell?" No one... he can't tell anyone.
He'll have to live in dead silence for the rest of his lonely miserable life with this heavy weight on his back...

He'll eventally crack.
I know it.

edit:
Sorry this sucked so much!
I hope it didn't ruin your thread.

Hodizzle · 03-11-2009, 07:12 AM

^Of course not the whole point is to practice by using a prompt

. Thanks for joining in.

Prompt updated.

~~*Nikki ♥*~~ · 03-11-2009, 07:46 AM

As he stared into the glass, he couldn't stop thinking about how pristine and perfect his life was...
He had everything you could possibly imagine...
He was young, talented, had a lot of friends, good grades, girls liked him...
But he still gelt as if he was missing something, he felt empty.
One day he was so in tranced in his thoughts about what was missing, that he wasn't really paying attention to anything else.
He got in his car, started driving and got to the freeway,
at this time he was doing 50 mph on the freeway
WHEN SUDDENLY "SCREEEEECCCCH-CRASH"

A drunk driver was driving on the wrong side of the road, and their cars head-on collided with each others.

Hodizzle · 03-21-2009, 09:05 PM

He stared into the glass wondering exactly what was on the other side. The cold had fogged the windows, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to venture into the unknown territory. What would he find there? Or worse yet, who would he find there. The whole situation was maddening. She had said it was his destiny to be here at this time- to see whatever it was that was hidden in this place, but how did you know? What was behind those clairvoyant powers of hers? He wasn't usually superstitious, nor did he believe in that hocus-pocus mumbo-jumbo, but something about her penetrated into his very soul, making him do things he never would have dreamed of doing before.

It's now or never, he thought. Taking a deep breathe, he launch the brick through the window, gasping at what he found inside.

Prompt updated.