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86. Seeing RedJude was frozen for a moment, heart beating a sickly, erratic drum in his chest. Everything was chaos around him; he no longer had the slightest clue as to what he should do. He made the choice that seemed logical, that sounded like Al's voice in his head, and ran for cover, throwing himself behind the hovercraft that they had driven there. He pressed his back against the vehicle, panting harshly, cold sweat sticking to his skin, before quickly peeking out from behind the car.

Susan was already down on the ground, a quickly growing pool of blood coalescing around her. The amount would have shocked him once, as would the lurid, bright color;

The Reassurance of GreenIt was Ella's idea to hire a gardener for my mother's tulips.

"I've been doing fine with them," I had said, a little surprised at the sudden suggestion. My sister had looked pointedly at the small patch of tulips that had previously encompassed the whole side yard. They were already dying, and the bulbs would have to be planted again soon. I had been planning an intense Internet search for that.

"I'd like to see you do better," I had muttered, but agreed nonetheless. I left the actual hiring to my sister, though.

Which led me to this moment, staring at a stranger on my doorstep and hoping rather desperately that there had been a mistake an

The DoctorThe doctor tutted, shaking his head and letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Honestly, we have next to nothing to work with these days." He murmured, grasping the girl's chin and pulling it upwards so he could look more clearly into her face. "Brown eyes, brown hair... too commonplace. What I wouldn't give for a honest-to-God natural blonde or a redhead. Everyone's getting sick of all the dyed products we've had to make. Ugh. Well, give this one some blue eyes. Keep the freckles; maybe they'll add something more natural to her."

The young man, eighteen at most, who had brought the girl into the room, nodded. He gently lifted the slender figure

a lessonShe is
laughing;
she tosses her hair back and
she laughs at the world
who cannot hope to match her stride.
She meets eyes unashamedly,
she is radiant with confidence.

She is shy,
timid,
her eyes are downcast and
her cheeks are mottled
red.
Her words are whispers,
her breaths are sighs.

She is a sly smile.
She is a soft
whisper in his ear.
She does not seem to know
who she is.

He wants
to peel back the layers.
(though they are both afraid
that what lies beneath

is ugly.)

He wants
to speak to her.
But the words are stuck
in his throat,
suffocated with the
absence

of

oxygen
and he has nothing
to give her.

He wonders
if there

Something Was Bound to Go Right"Do you believe in reincarnation?" Victor asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence in the car. His dark hair nearly blended into the dark sky behind him. Taylor hadn't even noticed he had rolled down the window.

"I have the heat on, idiot," she muttered, rolling up the window from her side. Victor jerked his arm out of the way just before the window rolled up fully, and turned to regard her half-hearted glare with a grin.

"C'mon. Reincarnation. You. Sound legit?"

"No," Taylor said, rolling her eyes. "There's just no way it's possible. And I know you don't believe in reincarnation, either. You've told me that before, when you were t

Don't Let Go"Rich!"

There was nothing but silence around her. The air felt strangely...full. Oppressive, like it was pressing in on all sides, choking her. She could barely breathe.

"Rich! Oh God, oh God."

She didn't even recognize her own voice, it seemed foreign to her own ears. Each word spoken was muffled, drowned out by the heavy beat of her heart and her halting footsteps. Every step she took she had to struggle, pushing debris out of the way, sharp pieces of wood and metal scratching her legs as she walked. And she had been walking.

For so long.

"Rich!"

She began to wonder if it was her hearing that was the problem, or if her voice was simpl

you have a heavy heartAre we still on the two sisters idea?

No.

Okay. What else you got?

Maybe nothing.

You have something, what is it?

I've never written an argument. I've got nothing.

You've had one though. You have you and your experiences and everything that defines you and its okay.

I know. I'm scared.

Does this help? Imagining someone to talk to?

You seem real.

...

And you're not there anymore. Okay. I can do this. Write for someone who looks down on everything I like. Write for someone who looks down on me.

Shall we go over the rules?

Don't write clichéd phrases.

Do you know what that entails?

No. I don't really like how writing has rule

RealWhen they met it was on accident.

Her heel caught in a crack on the old sidewalk that was full of them, and her books fell out of her hands and hit the ground almost rhythmically. He thinks that it's the perfect way to meet someone, cliche and nothing embarrassing.

She's had enough cliches to last her a lifetime, and she thinks little of it.

...........

She thinks little of him, to be honest. He is kind and a gentleman, and, at their first meeting, utterly boring. However, boring has a new appeal for her, which is why they meet a second time.

...........

She doesn't realize how much time she spends with him until she calls him one night

Five

Prosper never really had a penchant for planning ahead. This quality had only gotten stronger after he had begun dating Blaire, seeing as she rarely did anything without planning for it first. However, once in a while he would make exceptions on special nights when he wanted to surprise her- their anniversary last year, for example. As it turned out, their evenings always went a lot better when he didn't plan ahead, ironic as that sounded.

Tonight was certainly one he wanted to get perfect, so he had determinedly planned for it throughout the previous weeks. Before now, the night had gone perfectly, not a flaw in sight. They had gone to di

A Song, A Car, A HighwayAn eyelash falls down his cheek,
and I wonder-laugh at the unexpected fall.
It’s black against his skin, as pale as my own,
and nearly so as the dust of snow outside the window.
I expect him to hold it out and bid me make a wish,
but he brushes it off his cheek,
and his eyes don’t follow its path to the hand-brake, as mine do.
I want to lean down and grab it for myself because damn,
if he isn’t going to make a wish I could sure use one.
But when I ask him, he grins at me and asks what I would wish for,
when we have such a future in front of us.
For now I’ll keep it a secret, but I do lean close to him and whisper
th

Piano Man He could hear Sarah warming up in front of the microphone, her small, soft voice rising and falling. The din of the waiters and servers setting up the many tables in front of them echoed behind her; the grating clatter of silverware wore against his ears.

He turned his attention back to Sarah. So much clearer, so much more pleasant... His shoulders, which had been tensed, relaxed, and he ran his fingers over the piano keys reverently, letting the background noise fade away.

And a pure, clear note from Sarah cracked.

His hands stopped over the keys, turning his head slightly and shifting on the hard piano bench so he could hear

Dysthanasia.Short-sighted though I’ve always been,
I noticed when you wrote lovely wounds into
my skin with all the blunt finesse
of a child drawing with crayons

but I missed the moment
when you stopped caring enough
to make them beautiful.

Gutter- CaughtNemi crept into the room, keeping her eyes underneath the swaying cloth to check for any shadows that would signify a guard, or, worse, the captain. She reached the desk, finally, and looked down at it- the desk was made of a dark brown, almost black wood, with designs on the sides and fronts of the drawers set into the sides of the desk. Nemi could tell with one glance that this desk was expensive. The kind of desk that she doubted could be afforded when one was making a living transporting food to and from markets.

Calm down, she told herself, so he inherited a nice desk or something. Don't be rash.

Because sneaking into a guarded ship in

Gutter- Potatoes Loch, many years ago, had discovered that he was a morning person. This was to the dismay of his father, who, despite having to wake up early most mornings, had always been more partial to sleeping late. Loch had made it a habit of running to his father's bedroom and jumping onto his bed to wake him up as a morning ritual. At least, a ritual until his father ordered Opello to keep Loch occupied when he woke up in the mornings.

Now, however, Loch knew that his perception of a morning person and Nemi's were entirely different. At least, he thought as he fumed into his pillow, I woke up with the sun, and not before. Nemi had woke

something as little"Do you sometimes think about humans and hurt," she says. She's rummaging in a crate on the cold floor of her garage, and her face is hidden. You shift to let the afternoon light shine on the golden wave of her hair.

"Because I do," she goes on, before you can admit that you have no answer. Small objects fall from the crate and cascade to the floor with a clatter. "I do."

Her words hang heavy between you, alone and uncomfortable in the summer air, and your tongue stumbles in the strangeness of the moment and spits out, "Why?"

She bundles the long strands of her hair into a fist and straightens, her hands otherwise empty. "Humans are so fra

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With Youdarling,
Here lies
don't spend your days
Cecilia Marent
with lifeless, dreary stone
born
love,
in 1990
don't linger where
died
blood was once spilt
in 2010
sweetheart,
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i am not
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97. Safety First

by ~AndThenYou, Jul 27, 2012, 11:49:59 AM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Science Fiction / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

"It's never going to work." Jude argued as they walked towards the lot Al had specified.

"Pessimist." Charlie accused half-heartedly, "We don't know that it won't work. And that's better than doing nothing."

"I disagree." Jude said mulishly, staring at his ragged sneakers as he walked, nearly knocking into Charlie, who had abruptly come to a halt in from of him. He lifted his head, a protest already formed on his lips, before the sight in front of him cut his words off.

"Wow." Charlie let out an appreciative whistle.

"Understatement." Jude said, staring wide-eyed at the sleek and luxurious vehicle in from of them. "I thought Al said we were getting a
car?"

"Well, I'm not complaining," Charlie said, bouncing up to the door and running a hand over the silver and black polish, "I've always wanted to drive a hovercraft."

"Admitting you haven't driven one of these before is not the way to inspire confidence, Charlie."

"And off we go!" Charlie yelled, ignoring him and practically vaulting into the driver's seat. Jude stayed rooted to the ground for a moment longer before forcing his feet to move, walking around to the passenger's side and muttering a quick prayer under his breath. The inside of the hovercraft was even more high-tech, though Jude may have previously thought such a thing impossible. There were no lights inside save for a multitude of glowing switches and knobs on the dashboard, which Charlie was eyeing almost hungrily, her hand poised above them. The slight red gleam cast unnatural shadows across her face, highlighting the hunger in her eyes and her wild expression.

"Six. Thrusters." She looked over at him, excitement written all over her face, in her savage eyes, as though she expected him to be as happy as she about that particular fact. He looked at her uncomprehendingly, and she made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat, rolling her eyes skyward and letting out a sigh, as if he had failed her completely at this lack of knowledge.

"Listen, simpleton-"

"Uncalled for," Jude muttered, only to be studiously ignored.

"-most hovercrafts only have four thrusters. Five thrusters is pretty dangerous if you don't know how to handle it. Six thrusters is, simply put, like a big mouthful of chocolate. Which means-

"I don't like chocolate."

"What is wrong with you?! I should kick you out right now; no, shut up, don't say anything, I'm not finished." Charlie took a deep breath and continued, "Which means this car ride is going to be completely and utterly fantastic." She beamed at him.

"As long as you can get us to Newport." Jude said, trying to resign himself to dying a fiery death whilst looking like a stupid teenager. Charlie looked at him for a moment, a strange expression on her face, caught between amusement and exasperation, before shifting forward in a graceful, practiced move, so that she was inches away from his face.

"Don't forget the seatbelt," She murmured, poised halfway over his seat, the aforementioned seatbelt clutched in her hand, making a definitive 'click' between them both. Charlie lingered for a moment, her eyes trained happily on the blush on his cheeks, before her lips curved into a smirk and she shifted back into her own seat, buckling her own seatbelt with calm precision.

97. Safety Firstby ~AndThenYou

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Science Fiction / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

you're confused? good.

okay so i legitimately tried to describe the car; i sat down and wrote a bunch of stupid sentences that DIDN'T WORK. in the end it just sounded like a big geen bean or something. a silver and black green bean. anyways. tips for being descriptive, anyone? i've always had trouble with it, but this is the most obvious trouble i've had with that in a while.

so, another installment in my "Doctor" verse (first story is here >>[link] you might wanna read that first, if you haven't already). i'm hoping doing this 100 themes challenge will help me piece together the story better, so let us see!

Charlie, Jude @ ~AndThenYou

~Grey-Midnight Aug 18, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

Short and sweet, with an ironic title.

Since I just read the original Doctor fic, I know who Charlie and Jude are! Yay me. Aaaaanyway.

I love the dialog between these two. It's quirky, sarcastic, and dynamic. It's all very natural, and does not sound forced. (One small mistake I found: When Jude says "I disagree" in the third paragraph, it should be ended with a comma, not a period.)

This shot gives me more of an inside on Charlie's character. She is, as I thought previously, a bit reckless and daring (First time driving a hovercraft? No big deal. Buckle your seat belt, silly Jude. This has six thrusters!) I also like the natural flirtiness I can feel in her character.

For the description of the car: I would be as helpless as you. I do not know cars, and I could probably not describe them beyond their physical appearance. I suggest drawing a rough sketch, perhaps? If you can get the car down on paper, it may be easier to see what is possible and what is not for the car, and make developing a description easier. If that doesn't help, just write a description anyway and put it into this shot. There's no way to know if it is truly good or not if you can't get other people's opinion on it.

Nice shot! You continue to be awesome.

~Larkspur-KiwiPickle Jul 31, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Ahahaha, hopping around in a storyline without explaining anything. I love it.
Anyway, as far as description things go, you might try taking an object or a picture of an object (like a car) and write out as detailed of a description as you can based off of it. Practice makes perfect, just do this over and over and over and over...though honestly sometimes over-description can be a bad thing. So unless you really, really want to put tons of detail into something, you can just kind of give colors or a general feel to a thing and it'll be okay.
I should do this too, honestly, you're not the only one with description difficulties ><

~danx505 Jul 29, 2012

yay, more!

also, I don't quite get the challenge thingy, could you explain?? thanks

~AndThenYou Jul 30, 2012 Writer

there's basically a list of 100 prompts that you have to write a drabble (or more!) for. It's quite fun, and the prompts are good, too. Want me to send you the list? C:

~JeYdI Aug 18, 2012

could you please send it to me too...?

~danx505 Jul 31, 2012

oh please! I've been trying to get into writing for ages, maybe this is it

I think I'll post what I do here to

~me-thugg-me Jul 28, 2012

This is actually fabulous. And I know what it means to have another person say that about your writing, it really does mean a LOT. Like someone said earlier about the lack of description; sometimes that's better than too much, you know what I mean? and the fact that it's Jude's POV (or 3rd person limited) makes sense in that because he doesn't care all that much for hovercrafts. so he wouldn't linger on those particular details, amiright?
anyway, wonderful work as always and I look forward to reading more

~elfgirlunltd Jul 28, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

Hmm yes I'm a tad confused, but intrigued enough to read and learn more.

*TristanCody Jul 28, 2012 Student Writer

I love your word choice and I honestly can say I enjoyed the story thoroughly.

My only suggestion would be this, " halt in from of him". Placing that into context, I believe you meant "front of him". I could be wrong though

Thank you so much for sharing,
Tristan Cody.

~Pipe-stream Jul 27, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I love this little piece

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