Tag: writing
group name: shortfictionand
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April 07, 2008 09:44 AM EDT --
The bale of cotton faded in the distance. From an altitude, the City of Brotherly Love, twinkled like dreams in a young girl's eyes. Thirteen years back, one such Monday, my husband and I . . . more
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April 18, 2008 09:48 AM EDT --
Kohl lined eyes watched the fluffy ball, that loomed aimlessly amidst the hills, a lone traveler in the endless sheet of blue. She stretched her arm, hoping to grab it like cotton . . . more
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May 14, 2008 11:24 PM EDT --
She sat on the wicker chair, the sunlight turned her dark hair to gold, eyes like moonless night; she toyed the spoon in the bowl.
Without words, I watched the puddle of milk on the table. . . . more
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June 11, 2008 03:17 AM EDT --
When Betty woke up this morning, the air seemed different and energizing. There was something she loves about the red leaves. Betty was reading a book and her friend Tory, was sitting next to her;watching . . . more
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June 04, 2008 02:51 PM EDT --
Twenty years ago, I bought this home, our home.
Her eyes held mine for long and she said: "Can we buy this?"
I didn't have a heart to deny; the pleading and the anxious eyes, . . . more
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March 31, 2008 12:49 PM EDT --
The past two days, I was completely quiet, much to the relief of my husband who could spend the weekend peaceful on the couch with the remote; no wife pestering him for the mall, to check out spring . . . more
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July 02, 2008 12:55 PM EDT --
Mary and Christopher were the best of friends. They shared everything, no matter how valuable and rare it was. There was something they wanted to do, but never got a chance.
A trip . . . more
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February 15, 2008 08:54 AM EST --
This is one of my short stories - the one that did very well for me in last year's university writing competition, actually .... was talking with lynn a. this morning about how much I loved . . . more
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June 18, 2008 11:53 AM EDT --
My life was perfect.
I was a graffiti artist living with my daughter. I didn't really need a husband, so when Mark left me; I felt fine.
Rosa was a nice and quiet girl. She never got . . . more
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April 15, 2008 01:30 PM EDT --
The numbers were etched on Eden's thigh; bold and clear. A permanent marker perhaps, the stains of which remain forever.
Even with the bubbles and the candles, Eden couldn't relax. . . . more
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February 15, 2008 08:56 PM EST --
The following is a story I wrote for my creative writing class this semester. I'm still working on revising it, so I would really appreciate feedback - that's actually my reason for posting it . . . more
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May 07, 2008 02:37 AM EDT --
I kissed countless memories embedded
In her unconditional love of gold,
Felt her divine womb, she encircled
I still feel that tender maternal fold.
I remember her soft hands weaving . . . more
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July 09, 2008 01:04 PM EDT --
The worst day of my life... I can remember it well. How could I forget? This is when we being our story.
The day started out like no other. Me and my son, Jimmy were eating our favorite leaves . . . more
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August 20, 2008 02:43 AM EDT --
Stop it! Enough is enough!
Enough skirmishing and lamenting, or struggling to hold on. And, like an adolescent quieting down after a blind paroxysm, our bawls begin to collapse, we quiver once . . . more
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May 26, 2008 01:27 AM EDT --
In the little white house on the corner with the white picket fence, lives a girl, no more than thirteen, up in her room, sitting in front . . . more
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March 18, 2008 10:59 AM EDT --
Once upon a time there was Annie.
Six years old, a pretty face, with eyes that reminded one of the oceans, and lips like rose buds.
Living in the outer house with her mom, Annie took . . . more
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February 19, 2008 12:03 AM EST --
It was a new day. For Sierra, it was time to explore a new land up on the Magic Faraway tree.
"The Land-Of-Whatever-You-Want will be coming tomorrow." Moon-Face . . . more
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February 22, 2008 04:56 PM EST --
Sometimes a phrase somewhere can bring out a story. I was reading John Beck's article and this line " .... soft, qualitative something which brings smiles and tears" hit me . . . more
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May 30, 2008 12:46 PM EDT --
I have come back to my ancestral house. I have returned to the scenes of my childhood and in my mind's eye I see; coconut oiled hair flowing down my grandmother's back, the keys of her household . . . more
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August 13, 2008 12:13 PM EDT --
Substitute "damn" every time you're inclined to write "very"; your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.
Mark Twain
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