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Post by Knightfall on Oct 4, 2010 7:47:36 GMT 1
LOL! That was awesome. A welcomed tribute. >=D
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Post by Knightfall on Oct 4, 2010 11:26:51 GMT 1
> 4 October 2010I've done my best, and it's more than enough. He approaches with that look in his eyes, venom on his breath. There is a weapon in his hands, but I can't see it. From the darkest of nights, he lashes out: a grin slowly crawling up his face. The attack pierces my chest, rends my heart. I can hear laughing. I've never heard him so happy. I fall to the ground, clutching my wounds. He walks away; his work is done. Long into the night, I can hear him singing rather joyously: "It's cold outside, there's no kind of atmosphere..."
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Post by Mister Buch on Oct 4, 2010 13:22:19 GMT 1
That will happen one day, Eleven Thirty-Eight. One day.
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Post by Nemonus on Oct 4, 2010 17:36:10 GMT 1
Right, I'll use that Rich Text Editor then.
So we're all just being extremely proactive? Cool!
Thanks, Buch! Your poem made me LOL.
I wrote this one in my head at work the other day. It made me lol, but then, I am not very good at humor.
October 4, 2010
This is the deli worker's prayer.
We, keeper of all flesh, serve all flesh. May the flesh walk toward us gratefully, and place its order with all the grace of the saints. You who sing our place, our plate; may the yoke be light. If we split the flesh, may it split clean. May we give unto others as is given onto us; the flesh, the milk, the cacao. And one day will come the rising again, when the heavens open and food is free. Oh keepers of all flesh, may your sandwiches not fall over. Hold the onion.
Amen.
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Post by Mister Buch on Oct 4, 2010 18:34:46 GMT 1
I actually found that quite creepy and unsettling! It sounded sort-of demonic to me, with the 'keepers' and the 'when the heavens open' - it made me think about the book of Revelations.
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Post by Knightfall on Oct 4, 2010 21:29:40 GMT 1
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Post by lieden on Oct 4, 2010 22:23:06 GMT 1
Excuse the bad case of brain disconnect if it becomes apparent. I came back home from a 16-hour-long day. BUT! I wrote my entry. Two (discarded) drafts in the metro and a final alternate take just now.
I enjoyed both your poems for different reasons, Knight and Buch! Chantress, your 3rd October entry was very unsettling as it was well-written. Nemonus, today's entry is... equal measures hilarious and unnerving. This may just be me being very very tired, but I catch tragic undertones.
4th October 2010
I heard my name as though it was called from miles away. Then two hands on my face. Little girl hands. I tried to speak, but my voice wouldn't come out.
I knew where I was. 'You crazy old bitch,' Aresh was saying. It was good to see him again, I told him. I wanted to ask what had been going on; why were there overseers so deep into the dayside, why so many sundogs.
'Told you this whole business was crazy!'
Not only crazy. Pointless. The mothership was dead; we could not restore power. It was all for nothing.
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Post by Mister Buch on Oct 4, 2010 23:05:59 GMT 1
5th October 2010
'Mister Laurie, prepare for surgery please.'
The hunchback finished his chore and reluctantly shuffled back to Peter. It was a strange feeling, he thought, to prefer the busywork.
Laurie didn't even fully understand this task. Something about taking over the world. Something about a 'race of atomic supermen'.
The Master had never seemed frightening until now. Not in the graveyard, not when he selected his fresh subjects, not when he slowly pacified them while smiling impishly at his assistant. It had just been fun.
Peter made eye-contact and waited.
'Let's go home,' Laurie whispered.
'Home? I have no... home...'
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Post by Nemonus on Oct 4, 2010 23:51:51 GMT 1
Bwahaha. I'll take unnerving. Large quantities of meat always is.
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Post by Battlechantress on Oct 5, 2010 3:14:40 GMT 1
For October 5:
There was movement on the bluff above him; Kadin could make that much out. He tried to sit up before a whistling arrow struck the ground by his bloodied left hand, reminding him that there was still at least one enemy somewhere on the battlefield. What was curious though was the fact that the whistling arrow missed him. Scythian archers never missed. Why waste such an arrow merely to warn him to keep still? Did they intend to make him a captive? He was merely a common soldier; surely they did not think the queen would waste gold on ransom.
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Post by Knightfall on Oct 5, 2010 22:16:55 GMT 1
5 October 2010
He's asked to see me, but I don't see the reason in it. I nonetheless get put on my boots and walk the three blocks to the place and find him standing there. Just standing. He has that absent look about him: the same one I've been seein' for close to a month now.
"Hello," he says to me.
"What do you want?"
"Do you believe in God?"
I gots to pause for just a moment, to figure out what he's getting at. "Sometimes," I say.
"Okay, Sheriff," he sits. "Thank you."
One more day. He'll be hanging by sunset.
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Post by Nemonus on Oct 6, 2010 3:15:35 GMT 1
When I don't know what else to do I write about dinosaurs.
October 5
She sniffed leaves, following the thin, day-old scent of a dying baby brachiosaur.
Her legs scissored beneath her as she worked her way carefully around rocks and fallen logs, her killing claws held up in their relaxed position.
Her prey had fallen a meter away behind a stand of ferns. It mewled softly, opening its wide, pink mouth in a gray scaled face.
The raptor started to unhinge her claws and run forward.
A leg as thick as a tree pounded down in front of her. She skidded to a stop, looking up at the face of a mother.
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Post by Battlechantress on Oct 6, 2010 4:40:16 GMT 1
October 6:
Kadin saw the feet first. Simple brown leather boots covered by red and green tartan leggings. Not Scythian, then. The footstrikes were strange, uneven. He realized-- too late-- that he should have already grabbed his dagger if he were to strike any of his captors when they drew close enough. Now he'd have to try to grab a leg.
He never got that chance.
A long spear touched his forehead. He followed the length of the shaft to a mitted hand, attached to an arm covered in chain mail that belonged to a girl young enough to be his daughter.
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Post by lieden on Oct 6, 2010 5:15:28 GMT 1
I was so ridiculously tired yesterday I couldn't write a single word. I was afraid I'd lose the day... but fortunately for me, 100words seems to run on entirely different time zones. So here it is, fresh morning stuff. 5th October'You sure you don't want a shotgun?' Aresh asked her. Liya turned to look at the sun, halfway buried into the ground. She shrugged. 'Can't shoot,' she said. 'Besides, I couldn't afford it.' She tried to smile: a tired grimace. 'It's gratis, like everything else. Don't worry. You won't be in the list of my worst customers anytime soon.' 'I was your best one, in better times.' 'In better times... Liya, watch yourself. It's a full-scale war going on back home. If overseers find you-' 'Home,' she said, and she looked up, into the sky. 'There's no going home.'
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Post by Mister Buch on Oct 6, 2010 13:19:00 GMT 1
lieden our 5th October entires end with almost the same line! ;D
6th October 2010
In my high school library there are two paper signs on every pillar. The top one will say 'Law Library' or 'Sociology' and the bottom one invariably says 'Tokyo' and points an arrow left or right.
These funny little couplets are scattered all over, like a treasure trail for adventurous otaku kids who really should be studying. The bottom signs always look as if they're about to wink, or nod approvingly at my pink Sakura hairut and green contacts.
If you follow them, you get to a painted wooden door. I won't spoil it by going through.
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