[x]

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

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

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

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

Hug"Ha! Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

"It is a gun. But I am also happy to see you."

"...I knew it was a gun, Rich. I was making a joke, you know? Because your gun was sticking out like- oh, nevermind. You friggin' aliens will never get the joke."

"You could try the line again? I will laugh this time."

"No. It's ruined now."

"Is that why you are upset, then?"

"I'm not upset. It just would've been a good joke."

"You are upset. Your symptoms show it."

"Gah- I told you to stop doing that! You don't need to know my body temperature or metabolism at the moment or whatever the heck you were looking for. Stop u

The Intelligent Are So SadA cascade of words parade around,
with thoughts of atoms and connotation.
She is brilliant, they say,
but she knows she is lost.

Numbers are her companion,
she understands their mean, average.
Words can twist her brain,
she loves the wonder they bring.

She is intelligent, they say,
but sometimes,
she doesn't feel clever enough.
Sometimes she feels clever too much.

Excusez-moi, in perfect French,
but nothing is gained by perfect word tense.
She is clever, they say.
But she is not clever the way they know.

She sees things as they are,
and she prefers her thoughts to the world.
She knows she loves them more than they in return

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

97. Safety First"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 we

EPIC: fifty scenes projectEPIC: wherein Robin and Matthew (fantasy buffs, mortal enemies, and sudden heroes) embark on a quest that inverts, averts, subverts, deconstructs, and generally wreaks havoc on the many tropes and cliches of fantasy fiction.

number 2
prompt kiss
word count 337

Robin closed the door against the groaning protest of its warped frame and came to stand over the foot of the bed. “I don’t think we can trust them,” she said, crossing her arms tightly.

Clearly, Matthew had never heard that keeping eye contact when speaking was polite, since he ignored her attempt to meet his eye and flopped backward onto the bed. “Judging by

to the cliffhanger boyto the cliffhanger boy:

there is a girl out there
with stories for lips
and inception
fingertips

anecdote laughter,
parables
in her salt water sorrow

saga skin dotted
with freckle narratives all
out of order

she waits for the chance to amend
your enigmas
to open your closed book
to breathe a better ending
into the last few pages
because you've never had one before.

Bones"There are good days and there are bad days," you would say to me as you would try and explain away why the whiskey bottle was empty again this morning, why you smelled like her and why you thought it was best to let me know what you had done. At least that way, you were absolved of the gift of lying; the one your bones were too light to lift and just couldn't take, by bestowing me with betrayal.

My mother would bring me an encouraging cup of tea in a giant pink mug instead of a cup and explain, "There are good days and there are bad days." Her eyes were always full of positive energy and strength and good will. I look back to those days and

After Words"I wish you would give it back to me."

"Why? You'll just break it again."

"It's my heart. I will do whatever the hell I want with it."

"Yeah? Well, you take terrible care of things that are yours."

"Fine. Keep it. I am equal parts concrete and soul anyway."

"You say that, but I'm not entirely sure that you are. I think you're deep, and fragile and broken, and that makes you beautiful."

"Again, concrete and soul. "

"I wish you wouldn't make this so hard."

"So hard? I'm making this easy. You gave me dreams of half feathered swans and a stupid house on an endless beach and a city made of an ocean, and now you're taking it all away. But a

SecretsStep softly, heart; mind doesn't know.

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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

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,
beloved daughter
i am not
and sister
in either place
may God
dear one,
rest her
i stay with
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you

Green"Stupid!" Nik growled to himself, walking away from yet another job opportunity. "Idiotic, stupid, bumbling, ugh! Just had to mention that you've got no magic- that'll be a great quality for them to hear!"

His tirade was cut off with the small pull on his hand. He looked down to see his younger, six-year old brother tugging at him, big green eyes looking up at his imploringly. The rage and frustration drained out of him, leaving him with only sadness and regret. He had no money, no job, no possible way to buy his younger brother a meal- no one wanted to hire a magic-less servant, or gardener, or anything. In a county full of superstition, mo

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

Gutter- The LenoreThe Laughing Sailor was, in Loch's opinion, the perfect example of a tavern- at least, the kind his father had warned him to stay away from. So, naturally, it lifted his spirits a little to go inside. Most of the men were already roaring drunk, a few girls were sitting in the laps of strangers and giggling foolishly, and Loch was certain that there was a brawl beginning in the corner of the room.

This was soon confirmed when one of the men threw another onto a table, sending crockery and mugs clattering everywhere, while the surrounding people began egging the two on.

"Over here," Nemi said, pulling him towards the barman, an ugly fellow wi

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you have a heavy heart

by ~AndThenYou, Sep 16, 2012, 8:50:01 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Are 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 rules. Grammar I can understand, it helps the reader along. But everything else just kills the enjoyment and fun of writing. I'm too scared to write.

Describe me something.

There's a white Kleenex on the floor, with a wasp underneath it. We squashed it with a shoe earlier, but it was still twitching, so someone threw a Kleenex over it. I'm wondering right now if the wasp is suffocating underneath it. It's a very stark white against the ugly carpet, which is generic in that there's a million colors inside- blue and orange and yellow and brown and grey- but it's all just ugly.

....

Did I do a good job?

I cant tell you that.

Then who will?

Maybe no one. Would you ever trust anyone's opinion?

No.

Mine?

Definitely not.

Why not?

You're me. You'll sugar coat the truth and love it. I don't want to hear.

You're wrong.

How?

I hate your work, hate it with every fiber of my being. I want to claw it up
and rip it down and fix the world so that you don't ever have to try to write again.

That bad, huh?

Don't use platitudes, you sound idiotic. I can always tell that you're writing for them and not you when you say dumb shit like that.

So who am I supposed to ask?

You should figure it out for yourself. You have to be confident in something, or you'll never prosper. Or be happy. I want you to be happy.

Of course you do. You're me. I want to be happy more than anything.

I think you should ask yourself a question.

What's the question.

What's stopping you?

you have a heavy heartby ~AndThenYou

Literature / Prose / Fiction / General Fiction / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Had to write "an argument" for my beginning fiction class. this isn't what i submitted- the prompt was to write an argument where the reader could empathize with both people, so what i submitted what something else entirely. but i had a mock argument with my muse to get started/pumped up, and i thought i'd put it up here.

as you can probably see, my muse and i have a love-hate relationship, heh.

writing @ ~AndThenYou

love 6 6

joy 1 1

wow 1 1

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Grey-Midnight Dec 7, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

Very nice! I love the the colloquial word choice here, the obvious tension in the love-hate relationship, and the ambiguous ending. Certainly the ending! It leaves the reader not only with a question of who wins your argument, but also what is stopping or holding back the reader in his or her own life. Lovely piece!

~Erlebnisse Oct 20, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Oh my goodness, this is fantastic.

~HeatherTheCat Oct 16, 2012

LOVED THIS.
idk why...
just did.

the end. (lol)

~ReubenDeFlash Oct 14, 2012 Student Writer

Well, you just crawled inside my head and extracted my personal thoughts. Creepily accurate, but fantastic.

~danx505 Oct 7, 2012

a very good way of telling what goes on in my head

~harrypotterfan21 Sep 26, 2012 Student Writer

i think you captured what every writer tells themselves when they are trying to write something, yet can't find the motivation. It's really raw, and depending on how you wanted this to be percieved, that's either a fantastic thing, or it ruined it.

~TheArtistOfWords Sep 25, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

O_O this sounds very much like me..............creepy.

very nice to see someone else goes through this too.

good job.

~Altaeyyr Sep 23, 2012 Student Digital Artist

I do this too. Before I start writing something, while I'm writing it, while I'm editing. I write down everything that I think and create a conversation/argument between the me that wants to unleash insane amounts of creative license and screw everything else, and the part of me that wants it to be good and concise and not have plot holes. Glad I'm not the only one.

This is a very good insight into your mind _{in a non creepy way I assure you} and it really does help. I can imagine two people talking like this, I'm not sure if that's what you intended, but it reads like a conversation and both sides, despite the references to both of them being the same person, have their own distinct personalities.

Honestly, I can see this being part of some psychological thriller in which the protagonist hears voices or something. It even poses that question nicely at the end, and that's the question isn't it? The question all writers have to answer _{I know that my answer is work and the tedium of life, but that's not the point.}

All up I think this is a lovely piece of writing and is both helpful and insightful. For just a warm up I think you did spectacularly.

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~kyasrein Sep 20, 2012 Student Traditional Artist

Man, this is so cool XD. It just flows so amazingly. Great job!

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