Fragments of wisdom or decay
Is it egotistical to answer your own sentence prompts? Four from me.
1
A finger curled around the door, coy, suggestive. His way of announcing tonight he would be mine. Applewhite carnations erect in his fist, I gasped and by the time a knee nudged my chair I was drooling at his feet.
And I knew, which is the saddest part, from the start I knew how it would be. Somehow the reward was worth the punishment, to risk exposing my soft insides to his brutality for the briefest taste.
I woke to ruffled sheets, held by my own warmth. His wooing gift abandoned; my God
the leaves had never looked so limp.
2
He was sure he heard the flowers scream when he cut the stem. A sharp short-lived burst of pain. The sound tore into his brain and sliced at his heart. An agony too great to acknowledge was surprisingly easy to ignore. From there negotiating manners and common decency became a question of how much of other people’s pain he could ignore. How much? A crisis in the car park was just an excuse to take his domination one step further. Blood dried darkly under his nails, his breath coming in painful gasps.
He still had nowhere to park his bike.
3
Never trust a man with only half a smile. One eye twinkling, a hand on your thigh. Who knows how deep the danger runs when he has so much to hide he cannot let his heart display.
Wise words you needed last night, hips swaying in the doorway, a target painted in mascara. He made sure he caught your eye.
You should have run but took it from his hands. Dancing up the fretboard, insensible, copperwound steel tearing into the flesh of your unprepared fingertips. In blood and tears
his guitar wasn’t weeping nearly as gently as it could’ve been.
4
The key lay in the grass. It had never been so lush, so green before. Dusky, dusty grey at the height of every other summer. In a world of repressed rage something being as it ought to be in normal people’s lives was a certain sign that everything was wrong.
Mother announced over breakfast. Father had a new life and couldn’t return. Newly defiant, her bruises fresh and unforgiving. The bread knife screaming in its absence. The turf an unconvincing wig if you chose to see.
‘Oh, Ma, there had to be another way,
you didn’t have to do that.’
JemimaAnd a sliver from
Orange Anubis:
It was a week since the window smashed. But at least the cold air is keeping Mother's body from going off too quickly. I can't let her go before Christmas, she loves the lights and the colours and the children singing so much. It's not like I'm young any more myself, but if I can keep hold of her forever, one day we'll be the same age, I'd like that. Then she could be my sweetheart for real. Last night I started to feel guilty for the first time, so before our bedtime I offered her the first mulled wine and mince pies of the year, not that she touched anything. Still,
manners cost nothing.
Originally I was going to wait to post this
But circumstances have made that course of action no longer viable. It simply
must be done now.
You may have seen the two submissions in the comment sections. From Cooper:
It was a week since the window smashed, tonight the repair exhausted me. I then find this post and fucking refuse to be first; if that's alright with you?
Manners cost nothing.
And from Pia:
Never trust a man with half a smile. He only has teeth in half his mouth. He can't sing. So
his guitar wasn't weeping as gently...
Nothing to sneeze at, either one of them. Quite good, in fact. But it's no shame to be bested when someone dives headfirst into an endeavor with reckless abandon. Enter Anna, who saw fit to respond to each prompt First those of my esteemed colleague:
A finger curled around the doorA finger curled around the door playfully.
Of course it was Joel, letting me know he was there, wanting me
to know before he appeared, wanting me to invite him
in. And despite my anger, I was charmed because I was in
love with him in that absurd, chemically insidious
way. No matter how he angered me, if a playful gesture
or smile surfaced, my heart would betray me.
“Come in.” I said, trying not to smile. I felt my
effort fail me so I turned and gazed out the broken
window next to the bed, the one letting all the cool
autumn air in.
There was still rainwater on the floor from last
night.
The leaves had never looked so limp.It was a week since the window smashed.You’d think Joel and I would have fixed it by now. But
no, we were too busy trying to fix ourselves.
Years ago, when the love was new and smooth in it’s
abundance, Joel and I were the epitome of good graces
and generosity with one another. Nothing pleased us
more than being utterly selfless to the other. It
seemed back then that this would never end. We could
not for the life of us see how we would ever be
hostile or bitter to the angel that was the other
person before us.
How time has changed things. I’d give anything, pay
any price to have that moment back. Even when I repeat
those steps, it has a hollow reward. When did we stop
being kind to one another? Why did we stop? After all,
manners cost nothing.
The key lay in the grassWhere I threw it hastily when I heard Joel’s car come
up the drive. I was so anxious about leaving him for
Nic that I threw Nic’s house key from me as if it was a
homing beacon, my own sick little north star.
And to think just yesterday, I was galvanized in my
decision to end my marriage once and for all. And Nic
was the prize at the end of my battle. A brand new
beginning with so similar to the way my husband used
to be.
How strange that I now mean two very separate things
when I say the following sentence to both men:
'
You didn't have to do that.'
What was that? A unified story constructed out of Mimey's prompts? You bet your sweet ass (assuming you have a sweet ass, dear reader. I think I'll give you the benefit of the doubt) And she did it again with my prompts, which for my money she managed to best her prior efforts with.
It was a dark and stormy night. Again.Jason smirked as he spraypainted the words on the
wall.
“I hope you’re better now. I hope our little stab here
at wanton vandalism makes that rejection slip a little
more palatable.” I sighed as I got to my feet. I had
managed somehow, to fall asleep.
“I could fall in love with you and remain there
forever.” Jason replied.
I blinked, waiting for the rest.
“No, I’m not quoting another story, I’m telling you
Nina, I could fall in love with you. I mean, my God,
we broke into this man’s home, peeled off all the
labels on his canned goods, put green food coloring in
all his beverages and hard liquor and you manage to
fall asleep.”
“Nerves of steel,” I shrugged. I prayed fervently that
he wouldn’t try to kiss me. I liked him way too much
for that.
“I could write about this,” he said.
It was certainly worth writing home about, but towhom?"
Never trust a man with only half a smile"
and yet those are the sexiest. Jason leaned in to kiss
me after all. I let him, hoping that my lips weren’t
too chapped because they usually are. And was that
coffee breath his or mine? Why can’t I relax enough to
enjoy anything personal?
“We should go.” I said quickly when Jason’s hands
began to wander. I didn’t want to worry about things
below my neck now.
“Just one more thing.” He said, moving over to the
wall of cds.
“Really?” I asked as I watched him remove one of many
Beatles cds.
“He is so soulless, I’ll bet you anything all these
Beatles cds are just for show.”
“You don’t know that…don’t take his stuff.”
“We can destroy it but we can’t take it?”
“I know. I’m weird like that…but haven’t we done
enough?”
“I want him to have an aftershock. He won’t notice
this cd is gone for the longest time. And then, he
may not even realize how or why it’s gone for some
time after that.”
”And what if we were to leave it?”
”Let me think.” Jason closed his eyes.
I waited. Where was this guy? Why didn’t he have his
alarm system on? More importantly, what was I doing
with this Jason person? Was getting laid that
important? Was I confusing biological imperative with
romance? Was a pretty mouth and good cheekbones that
much of a trigger for me?
“I just finished imagining what it would be like for
him if he woke up and found all that we’ve done so
far.”
“And?”
"
His guitar wasn't weeping nearly as gently as itcould have been"
"
These pretzels are making me thirsty"
“Is this our first date?” Jason asked me later in the
car.
“Don’t you have bottled water or something?”
“I think maybe in the back seat.”
I undid my seatbelt and leaned back to rummage through
the mess back there.
I found a bottle of evian, broke the seal and drank
half the bottle.
“I’m sorry pretezels are all I have.”
“I’m sorry everything shuts down in this town after
ten. What is it about misdemeanors that make me
hungry?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
”I guess it’s a date now.” I said. I put my seatbelt
back on for comic effect.
Jason laughed gleefully. “She’s all mine, folks. I had
her at ‘breaking’ and ‘entering.”
“Jason, if we are going to be together, you can’t do
this anymore.”
”No, of course not. But wasn’t it fun?”
“Yes. Mighty fun.”
“The look on his face…I wish I could see it.”
”You’re done with him right? That’s it right?”
”Absolutely.” Jason pulled the car over, undid his
seatbelt and moved over to where I sat.
“Whoa, buddy. Easy there.” I only meant it a little.
“Take off your seatbelt.” He whispered.
“No.”
”Please.” He kissed my cheek gently.
I wanted to bite his mouth. I didn’t. “No.”
He sighed and placed his face in my neck. “Okay.
Okay.”
Even though his soft rhythmic breath began to give my
body the power to change my mind, we sat there for
quite some time.
Cars drove by, ghostly images in the vast dark. I felt
as if we were under the deepest part of the ocean.
That we were slowly drowning and they wouldn’t find us
for weeks. We would be curled around one another,
smiling, no longer alive.
Maybe we would be found in mid-laughter, our heads
thrown back, our eyes squeezed shut as the water
finally claimed us. The poor police officers who,
having never seen anything so strangely out of place
in a long time would scratch their heads, shift into
auto pilot…start taking notes.
Notes like…
"
The door was locked from the inside"
So thanks to all, and big ups to Anna.
This isn't done, by the way, I just felt that this needed posting now. Feel free to contribute either sentence pairs or things to go between sentence pairs or both.
Tiny Flashes of Brilliance
Welcome, willing subjects (and those who were tricked or coerced as well), to an experiment. This site is intended as an enormous FUCK YOU to writer's block. We intend to shake loose tiny sparks of brilliance from the idle mind and get it going. Sound like a thing you want to take part in? Drop us a line. We'll bring you into the fold somehow. In any case, for this particular exercise, Mimey and I came up with a series of two-sentence couplets. Our beta testers below put about 100 words between the two to form a literary moment. We're still missing two submissions. You two know who you are and don't think I won't send out my collections agents. They're not big and burly, just hella freaky and I promise you a part of you will die as a result of the meeting. And no, I don't mean "la petite morte." =P
Mimes, do you have anything to add?
{wombat out}
Mimey Victor Sierra: all I want to add is that feel free to leave sentences for others, feel free to take inspiration from the sentences left (or even already used) and leave a hyperlink in the comments to anything that results and we'll publish a shiny, glowing link to you. Go on, make writer's block a thing of the past.{mimey out}
In all seriousness, or if not all, then at least enough to carry us through--actually no definitely not all seriousness as such-- here are the, we hold, tiny flashes of brilliance that have resulted thus far. If you want to join just drop a line and we'll set you up with a couplet at our earliest convenience. From the looks of things thus far, this site will be updated on a rigorous "Whenever we get around to it/feel like it" basis.
Encourage us by joining in and we'll update it loads. OneTo prove a point, the General hugged a child with nuclear arms.
‘For the greater good, always for the greater good. The only way to save the planet from itself, to preserve our values. This world is a war.
They’d sent a delegation. To plead for clemency. The General was prepared to give in, to concede. He welcomed their dove, insisting he shared their concerns. He welcomed their white flag, as it walked hesitantly toward him, welcomed it as if he’d had the idea himself.
He smiled with his mouth. Pulled the boy close. Soft cheek muffling the click that heralded detonation. Disharmonious existences, man’s conflict with eternity was silenced. And thus came the end of the world.
JvSTwoHis love life was proverbial, he was the vomit to which dogs return. The women who came to his pawnbroker's and came in his flat were thin, pinched, desperate. And Abbey had sold everything she had, she laughed and called him Uncle and ran after scratchcards. He met her on Monday nights in the pool hall, bought her Bacardi to keep her sweet, quietly hating her breath. One Tuesday just before closing, she barged in from the rain, drenched and devoid of diamonique. All she had was an umbrella, literally the last thing. He tried to refuse to take it. She glinted inside, sensing sympathy and a way home. The umbrella remained unsold.
Orange AnubisThreeI don’t ever want to look at a pear again. I don’t ever again want to be doused in fetid ripeness - nevermore bruised flesh crammed into my lips.
No, not even an under-ripe specimen. Oh, the stink! Every pear will be an impending explosion. Williams, Conference, maybe even avocado.
Snap, snap, snap “ I don’t care if it’s your final year project. I don’t care how much of a fantastic model you think I am. Okay, so maybe I’m a little flattered. But it’s just my lack of propriety that impresses you. Yes?
And yes I’m impressed with your post-modern rendering of what a lovely pair. Was your flash really flat? Quite a disappointment.
Look, it’s just that I wasn’t keen how everything got squidgier by the minute and the tin bath was rather a sharp touch. I suppose toys would've been a nice addition with a little more forethought.
In an avocado suite next time? Well, I admit that does raise a smirk. Maybe a mango thrown in? Well, it’s been a while. A chance for me behind the lens and you might just have a deal.
Really? I’ll be responsible for all electricals? Yes, you’ve done it again. I’m a sucker for your sweet tongue so long as you stay open to suggestion. So next time I’ll make sure the battery has been charged.
BBFourFreddie said it suited me. His voice was mellow and unassuming; wool draped upon his lupine intent. The idle gaze whose presence was made apparent even as I turned my back was passively predatory. A gift of suspicious nature lay on the couch. He slunk into the other room so I could test his theory, the door's click leaving no ears for protest. A skin flick gambit that six drinks had failed to disguise. The pale luminescence of a romantic cliché washed over me as I remembered something he'd told me before. Words that had now undermined their goal. "Don't forget, the window's open."
Esoteric Wombat
