tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3901370917824739259.post5882886874133153035..comments2024-03-17T06:03:00.362-04:00Comments on Fiction University: Writing Prompt: The Back-to-School Chain Story Janice Hardyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02356672149097741248noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3901370917824739259.post-30234917983492503992015-08-31T11:17:23.772-04:002015-08-31T11:17:23.772-04:00NOT A PART OF THE STORY...
I love these prompts J...NOT A PART OF THE STORY...<br /><br />I love these prompts Janice. Great idea. marti parhamhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16619874032864736750noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3901370917824739259.post-5858726678119872782015-08-24T02:49:16.718-04:002015-08-24T02:49:16.718-04:00Bib! Fuggy Bib! Okay, you try swearing with blood...Bib! Fuggy Bib! Okay, you try swearing with blood and bone jamming your nasal passages. And don't give me that "Language!" look. Desperate times call for desperate measures ... and rapid retreats and copious weeping. I did them all. Easily. I am an adapter. I pressed Denise in the direction of a sliver of space between the ring of attackers. Yeah, I'm tiny too. Born that way. Adapter, remember? <br /><br />Denise elbowed her way past the giant shorts on the other team. God they were poofy! Nice. A little sideways action and there ! Just like that we were out of the ring, breathing in the fresh... wait ... what on earth was that foul.... and why was it so dark? Oh. Right. Buttocks. Devil horse buttocks. Blocking out the sun. Cutting off our air supply with their gassy expanse. Effective. Denise shoved me aside and crawled back into the game just as that earth colored ball loomed into view. Monikanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3901370917824739259.post-43542541814535753982015-08-23T19:16:37.150-04:002015-08-23T19:16:37.150-04:00I didn't dare look to see where the screaming ...I didn't dare look to see where the screaming had come from. <br /><br />"The game starts in three--two--" I was deafened by her shrill, plastic orange whistle. Why bother waiting for one when the carnage could begin NOW? Spit flew from her enthusiastic blowing, and while reaching up to swipe it off my face, fire erupted across the bridge of my nose, my hand flattened on my face.<br /><br />Someone had hit me.<br /><br />I dazedly touched my nose and bit down on a cry when pain radiated from my injury. Blood ran from my nostrils, pooling on my standard gym shirt and running onto the floor. My friend, Denise, raced over to me, calling for a time out.<br /><br />"Whassa matter, pansies?" the teacher shouted, refusing to pause the game. "Walk it off." Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3901370917824739259.post-43906445319363366452015-08-23T19:10:01.461-04:002015-08-23T19:10:01.461-04:00There were four horses, but not like any horses I&...There were four horses, but not like any horses I've ever seen. Tall and gaunt and terrible with steam coming from their nostrils and sparks from their hooves when they stamped their feet. And four riders on the backs and I don't even want to think about them. They are the things that chase you in bad dreams. And the screams? That was our opposing team and pretty soon I as screaming too...BRIDGEThttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16143306274478695558noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3901370917824739259.post-55838974614289669242015-08-23T18:08:56.894-04:002015-08-23T18:08:56.894-04:00I had never seen one person so crazy about dodge b...I had never seen one person so crazy about dodge ball. Not in any of the six schools I had attended since Kindergarten. You would think this game was life and death or something.<br /><br />She pushed us onto the field, standing on the sidelines. "Get ready!" She instructed. "You, eyes front!"<br /><br />My wandering eyes were immediately back in place. She didn't have to call my name to sound fear into my heart.<br /><br />There was a blast from an air horn and I heard a screaming from across the field.<br /><br />'Oh my gosh' I thought 'What are those?'Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17939112520885847650noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3901370917824739259.post-66043194390822802622015-08-23T17:22:24.419-04:002015-08-23T17:22:24.419-04:00Her tats seemed alive; her facial scars glowed.
“...Her tats seemed alive; her facial scars glowed.<br /><br />“Listen up, you academy trash,” she bellowed. Hallway sound went dead and motion ceased mid stride. “I need ten volunteers. You four, you two, you three, and you.” Her gnarled finger was pointing between my eyes. “Follow me.”<br /><br />The ten of us looked at one another. “Now, trash. Move it.”<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3901370917824739259.post-72594867590277873532015-08-23T12:38:29.710-04:002015-08-23T12:38:29.710-04:00No one would believe it, but the teacher was absol...No one would believe it, but the teacher was absolutely not an alien. Or a monster. Heck, she wasn't even a supernatural being like everybody said.<br /><br />"Now, your first homework of the year is..." I stop listening, looking around at everyone else. I was positive we were all monster meat after hearing the rumors at lunch. I guess it was going to be a boring year after all.<br /><br />That is, until I saw the gym teacher.<br /><br />~K.A.C.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com