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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.
Through A Glass Darkly: Urbania
Last by: theprodigal on 20 Mar 2012 • Contributions: 1 of 10
If I seek, I shall find, yet I find...emptiness
Without a prayer for forgiveness, I left him
N'ermore to look for his gaze, to long for his touch
Mystery in song, meaning in laughter
Hollowed-out memories of a lifetime past
Now descended to madness and raging for justice
In a world gone wrong
Oh! Hope, where is thy sting?
I turned on the news today
The killings go on
I am no more, until it is no longer.
Last by: morizenbu on 04 Feb 2012 • Contributions: 15 of 24
I sighed. "Should I bother to ask...?"
"Eveldale Drive? Eveldale Drive?! That's in bloody Wordham!" Smithy was bent over the door, grunting as he tried to pull out the seat belt. I reached over him- God, he was obese- and pulled on the handle. He fell forwards a little and turned around to glare at me. "If I wanted to spend any time in Wordham I'd have become a dealer myself! Probably get more than these pisspot wages..."
Last by: inkattack on 11 Jan 2012 • Contributions: 3 of 20
The corner of his room harbored more than a few discarded papers. One appeared to be a drawing of a cat. Joe tried not to dwell on this, his attention then spinning to other things. Why am I here? Why -
"Oh!" He yelled. "It's her birthday. I need to... need to... flowers or something." He glanced up at the calendar. "Shoot. Yesterday was. I..." He grabbed his cell phone.
"Look, I'm really sorry. I forgot about your birthday. I'm horrible, I know, I know."
There was an awkward laugh on the end of the line. "Sorry," She said, "Who is this?"
"Look, 'Joe', I don't know who you are or how you got my number... my birthday isn't for a couple of weeks. Have a nice day. Bye!"
It Was Time
Last by: jonnyheilig on 20 Nov 2011 • Contributions: 40 of 100
They would build a raft. Prompting his family to their feet, he handed each of them an axe (he had purchased four axes from an axe salesman at the airport for just such an occasion). Vivian, Montague, and Sambastriana stared at them in awe, yet somehow knew what Cal intended them to use them for. All at once, they sprung forth from their hut dwelling and rushed out into the jungle. Axes in hand, they began swatting away at saplings like crazed lumberjacks. Cal instructed Vivian to gather fiberous reeds, which Monty and Sammy instinctively began to tear into strips to tie the wood together. With precision and expertise, they constructed sturdy raft in record time.
It was a fine raft.
Strapping his axe to his back, he hoisted the vessel over his head and headed toward the river. He laid the raft on the surface of the icey, rushing water, holding it in place with his right foot as his wife and two children boarded. He boarded last.