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julialin55
“Never trust a duck.” ― Will Herondale, The Infernal Devices
9 Posts • 30 Followers • 25 Following
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Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #23: Write a haiku about deceit. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
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lordnoctxrnal

what’s love, really?

Sweet words, told in an

Array of colorful lies, 

Foretell pleasant doom.

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #5 In no more than 500 words, continue this sentence: The land was barren, the sky was black… The winner will be chosen by Prose based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Bookmarks and shares will be taken into consideration, but won’t decide the winner solely. Winner will receive $100.
Cover image for post Almost, by sunshinestars
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sunshinestars

Almost

The land was barren, the sky was black,

Something humanity shall never lack

To toss and turn and toss at night

Preyed upon by Sadness and Fright

Fearing all; no one is dear

Only to rules of isolation you adhere

Push family, friends away

Then blame them when they don't stay

To Regret is only to dwell in the past,

Shivering and weeping, aghast

Envious of those who had a better chance

And succeeded without a single unhappy glance

Jealously pounces without further ado

The moment someone does better than you

Believe in sportsmanship all you like

But deep down, anger strikes

Inflicting Pain can relieve some Stress

But then turns the world into a horrifying mess

Just search up any, every war

All have left a terrible scar

And so it goes full circle,

Adding details here and there

An awful tale to tell and hear

But together we can change our fate

For us, for them, for everyone's sake...

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #5 In no more than 500 words, continue this sentence: The land was barren, the sky was black… The winner will be chosen by Prose based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Bookmarks and shares will be taken into consideration, but won’t decide the winner solely. Winner will receive $100.
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alizychn

Two Ways.

The land was barren, the sky was black. Jonas was all alone in this deserted place.

"NOO!" He yelled, tears dripping down his face. "Why...?" He whipered, weakly to himself.

------

The land was barren, the sky was black. Dakota was the only one here for all she could see. She smiled, and let herself fall to the floor, taking up all the space she needed to enjoy the breeze

------

Jonas woke up with a start, listening to the sounds of the night echo through his home. He touched his face, feeling the ice-cold drop of a tear,Why... The same phrase echoed through his head and lonely heart. All he had ever known was loneliness. All this city had ever known was loneliness, and after everyday in this deserted city, he would have to suffer the same, lonely, dream. His alarm clock started beeping, slowly getting louder. Jonas started to reach over to shut the annoying beeping off, but decided against it. I don't care. It's not like anybody else would hear it. He got up, dressed, and got ready for the treacherous day ahead.

-------

It was breakfast time, and once again, Dakota was eating with all the city's citizens, packed in a large, long room. All she could think about was her dream. The dream of being the only one, of not having to share anything. Not having to care about anyone other than herself. She sighed contentedly. Happy, since she knew that the same dream would be returning, but in real life instead.

"Dakota? It's time!" The head of the city, Pierre, called her over. It was time for her to leave. Every year, the city had to release one child under 18. Dakota was the top choice for the sacrifice. She was fit and can fend for herself. She had waited for this moment. The chance, to have her own life, not having to care for others. She took her map, tried to decipher what she was destined to do, and exited the city.

------

Every year, the empty city throws out one person. They choose the person that fits the criteria, someone fit. Someone who can fend for themselves, who is independent. Of the 20 or so people living in this place, they chose me. Great. I hafta isolate myself even more.

They give the 'Chosen One' a map, it has directions, survival tips, and tells you what exit to go to. The only thing is, is that it's hand written. Great, Jonas thought, as he looked at the packet, I can't even read the first word.

------

It's been a week. Jonas and Dakota have been walking for miles, but what they didn't know, was that both of them had gone out the wrong exit. The chance for them to meet, was long gone. They will never know that the mere mistake of reading the Exit 6 as a different exit, cost them the love of their lives.

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alizychn

Smile.

We went through many things, pushed away all the negative feelings, the negative memories away for a happy friendship. Everything was happy, from the time we introduced ourselves, to the time she quit the lessons. By then, there was only broken hearts. Of course, our other friends were sad, too. But there we were, the two of us. Embracing each-other, tear-stained faces. Everything that had started with the lessons, was gone. Nothing. Friendship? Lost.

I moved. We were no longer in the same school. No longer living in the same neighborhood. No longer the same people as we were before...We started anew, with our own lives. I don’t know if she felt the same pain I did, which occurred whenever I heard her name called out or spoken. I hope not. I wouldn’t want her to feel pain.

Years had past. Personalities had changed. Faces, grown. No longer were we the smiley, kiddy, little girls we had been. Fooling around during the lessons, smirking when the other was called out. Now, we knew pain. Of course, we had been through different kinds of pain. Her, the rigorous training of martial arts, and probably emotional pain too. Me, emotional pain, many different kinds of it. 

We forgot everything. Our surroundings, the people surrounding us, when we stood there. Staring. Who is that girl staring at me? The thought shot through both of our minds. She looks so... familiar, but so different at the same time. 

The next thing we knew, we were clinging to each other, as if clinging for life. We forgot all the pain we have been put through. Happiness and joy surged through our bodies. We whispered each-other’s  name, over and over. Doors were slammed, as we were in a professional setting, be we didn’t care. 

There we were. Happy. Talking, as if the years since we last met were mere months. Oh what the smile of a friend could do to you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: This is based on a true story, based on. So not completely true, somethings might have been exaggerated...

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #5 In no more than 500 words, continue this sentence: The land was barren, the sky was black… The winner will be chosen by Prose based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Bookmarks and shares will be taken into consideration, but won’t decide the winner solely. Winner will receive $100.
Cover image for post THE DAY, by another_proser
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another_proser

THE DAY

T H E  land was barren, the sky was black, the air was frigid but there wasn't time for slack. All seemed lost, amid the frost of stolen hope and manufactured faith, yet the people pressed on.

Long nights in small strides, every step to change the tides, for the sake of all their hides-- present and future. It wasn't for money, it wasn't for power, or any one religion though they prayed by the hour. They trudged through all the misery and soul-sucking pain, marching into the snow, surviving the icy rain.

They traversed the desolate world, their ancestors created, molded by greed and segregation of the ill-fated. The people climbed mountains of judgment and rivers of sorrow, all for the chance of a happier tomorrow. Across valleys of despair, over volcanoes of rage, each person living their own chapters, page by page.

Some died in the journey and new lives were born, all the people teaching them the path away from scorn. They quenched their blood-thirst on love and filled their violent-stomachs with hope, whatever it took to peacefully cope.

Though the land was barren and the sky was black, their will was the way, to a better future and return of D A Y. 

|| another_proser ||

Challenge
You find a faintly glowing wand on the ground. What happens next?
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lordnoctxrnal in Fantasy

the wand

It's glowing, glowing

Bright and bold

Shiny

Shiny as steel,

Shiny as fresh blood spilled.

It's sharp, but smooth

Sharp

Sharp as a knife

Smooth

Smooth as the preceding words

Precedent to the lethal blow.

I pick it up.

It's beautiful, covered in gold

Old as legends told

Beauty, the downfall

Of the best, and

Of the victims.

I wave it around.

It's natural, but strange

As if it shouldn't

Be there, but now that

It was in my hand, we had

Merged into one.

It's scary, but quiet

Shadows, a cacophony

Ringing in my head,

Mixed with the

Echoes of a lost harmony.

I drop it.

It's vanishing, dissipating

Electrons simmer

It's not there, anymore, but

I can still feel the tingle in my hand

and

I walk away.

Challenge
do an image search for "mirror photography," choose a photo, share it with us, and write about your first impressions or lingering notions.
Book cover image for 2016 CONFESSIONAL
2016 CONFESSIONAL
Chapter 4 of 27
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another_proser
Cover image for post More than one., by another_proser
Book cover image for 2016 CONFESSIONAL
2016 CONFESSIONAL
Chapter 4 of 27
Profile avatar image for another_proser
another_proser

More than one.

I am an Introvert;

recharging best in solitude,

exhausting most when socializing,

yet I still prefer we over just me.

We can discuss things I didn't know.

We can carry two different ends of a long table.

We can feel-think-and-move independently of each other.

We is better than just me.

With just me and no you to make we,

I am a tree in the forest falling unheard,

nothing more than a proverbial sight unseen,

the very definition of a nobody.

With we there's us and infinite possibilities.

| another_proser |

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the week #4 Write a piece of poetry or prose continuing this sentence: “He watched her in her deepest sleep…” The winner will be determined by the most bookmarks and shares once the results have been reviewed and verified. Winner receives $100.
Cover image for post "In M's Heart", by pgjmwrites
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pgjmwrites

“In M’s Heart”

He watched her in her deepest sleep...

Watched how forever made its greatest leap,

How it drew a picture where time is on its tip,

Like a smell of rose all our kisses keep.

Watched how forever made its greatest leap

And tired not so to climb the clouds so steep

Like a smell of rose all our kisses keep,

I stared at nowhere like tonight's a gift.

I'm tired not so to climb the clouds so steep,

With strength I can build our place with sift

I stared at nowhere like tonight's a gift,

And then, saw forever formed its shape with fate.

With strength I can build our place with sift,

I will draw our picture where time's on our tip.

For I saw how forever formed its shape with fate

As I watched you in your deepest sleep.

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week: Write a piece of poetry or prose following on from this sentence: “the clock struck midnight” The winner will be determined by the most bookmarks and shares once the results have been reviewed and verified. Winner receives $100.
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smichaelis

final sin

The clock struck midnight.

I stare. He's on the podium, except not to give a speech.

The guillotine's beautiful blade hangs above his head as he speaks a soliloquy I once taught him.

Every word is perfect.

He never managed to do that in lessons.

I give a proud little chuckle as he bows his head.

The crowd is silent as I clap.

Once.

He looks at me incredulously.

This is all my doing, he reminds me with his cold blue gaze, a proud little smirk on the corner of his thin pale lips.

Twice.

It's a punishment for my deeds, not yours. You will be punished, too, though... I raise an eyebrow as the executioner prepares for the much-awaited task. He kisses the air and shouts, "Salut!"

Once I join you in Hell.

Thrice.

I clap a final time, and the blade whooshes down to sever that clever, cruel head of a child from the spoilt and tainted body. I can still feel his skin under my fingers, hear him as he calls out to me. 

I smile pleasantly at the woman next to me. "He is finally dead, hm?"

She nods vigorously, fire in her eyes. "He killed my son!"

Your son was a rapist and a murderer.

The man behind me interjects, "He had disrupted all my missions!"

He does your detective job better than you do it, kind sir.

"He stole a cane from my shop!"

It was used to catch a serial killer.

"He brainwashed my children, then let them die!"

He didn't brainwash them, oh no. You did.

I give a chuckle as the murmurs grow louder.

I am the true sinner, but I will never repent.

Challenge
Your perfect date in 69 words.
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smichaelis in Romance & Erotica

sky

We walk hand in hand, carrying those childish sweets he loves.

I am taller by almost a foot, but he still walks like he is the lord of this world we try to survive.

"You don't survive life," he tells me with a pout. "You conquer it."

I smile.

"I am guessing, I will conquer it for you, in your name?" I say.

He smirks and kisses me. "Precisely."