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Have a read of last contributions to the open stories listed below. If you are interested in making a contribution for one of the stories simply click the "contribute" link under the last contribution below.
The strangers lambs
Last by: collarbone on 18 Sep 2014 • Contributions: 1 of 900
Her breath was steady, but she was trying hard to keep it that way. "That's a tricky question. We hardly know each other."
He took a step towards her. "That may be true, Becca, but I believe we can feel it - within us - we can feel whether or not to trust someone."
She nodded, unaware of whether or not she could trust him or not. The fact that he was so close to her made it hard to think.
"Come on then." was the next thing the stranger said and he pulled her along the riverside. "Where are you taking me?"
After a while he stopped and pulled her close. "This is it."
Becca looked around. "This is what?"
"Well, for one, this place is absolutely soundproof; besides there's noone here for the next two miles. The next phone booth is also far away and this is where the stream is the strongest."
She stared at him. "What are you talking about?"
The stranger smiled at her. "You're so adorable. And I do apologize. This may seem unordinary." He grabbed her arm and got his favorite knife out. "It'll be quick, I promise."
They would find her remains on the other side of the city in the morning. Meanwhile the stranger would be getting up to go to work like everybody else.
Last by: collarbone on 18 Sep 2014 • Contributions: 3 of 150
He stood there akwardly with his hands in his pockets. "How are you?" He asked. "Fine." I said. "Thanks for bringing this by." I added, smiled and attempted to close the door. "I have wine." Jim said suddenly.
"Would you like some? I don't imagine you can afford wine right now." I smiled at him. "That's a really nice offer, but I'm afraid I'm busy."
He said he understood and went back next door. I sat the parcel down to return to sofa. Here, the book had not moved. Hesitantly I picked it up and ran my fingers over its cover. And as I opened its pages, an old, sweet, sickening, musty smell came my way. I inhaled.
Last by: lupesengnim on 12 Sep 2014 • Contributions: 6 of 999
The world was pulsing in time with the strange rhythm of her chants. The sounds slowly became words, familiar, their meaning just on the tip of the tongue. Everything swam. It was all building, building to something.
Suddenly, the chanting stopped. The spinning stopped. Everything stopped so abruptly I felt like I'd been thrown against a wall.
Then the screams bled into my awareness. Men shouting. Humming, whizzing, things flew past me so fast. It was an attack. An ambush. Again, something else caused me to move, to act, I was pushed down somewhere. Men, shouting orders, shouting in pain.
When One Hundred Million Died
Last by: lupesengnim on 12 Sep 2014 • Contributions: 4 of 150
Maybe I'll go tomorrow.
The sun drooped and I started to get things ready for the night. I hated the night. Nothing good ever came from it. The animals like to hunt at night.