Flesh this out

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This is some dialogue. Flesh it out however you want. Just don't change the dialogue.

"Mother, I am going to die."
"You are going to die?"
"I am going to die."
"l'll call the doctor."
"Doctor, my daughter says she is going to die."
"She is going to die?"
"Yes she is going to die."
"I'll be there in a minute."
Knock knock.
"Doctor, my daughter says she is going to die."
"She is going to die?"
"Yes, I am going to..." Thump.
Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach

Moth and Myth <- My comic! :D




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Fascinating. What was going through your mind when you did that?
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Oh, it's not mine. It's a skit. You act out different moods. Sometimes it's a comedy, sometimes it's a drama, depending how you act it out. So... I thought it might be a cool writing activity.
Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach

Moth and Myth <- My comic! :D




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I couldn't help but laugh at that Snoink. The dialogue sounded so casual, then the "thump" caused me to burst out laughing.

I'll try and give this a go a little later on. Good job, though. :wink:
The sadness drains through me rather than skating over my skin. It travels through every cell to reach the ground. I filter it yet strangely enough, I keep what was pure and it is the dirt that leaves.




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"Mother," Betsy called, entering her mother's bedroom, "I am going to die."

Mother observed her, unamused. "You are going to die?"

"I am going," Betsy repeated, slowly and patiently, "to die."

"l'll call the doctor." Mother glumly put down her knitting, and picked up the phone. "Doctor, my daughter says she is going to die."

The doctor's voice sounded harried. "She is going to die?"

"Yes," Mother answered, glairing at her daughter. "She is going to die."

"I'll be there in a minute."

Knock knock. It was several minutes later, and Betsy was sitting stiffly in her mother's chair. She did look rather pale, but Mother assumed it was special effects. The things kids could do with makeup nowdays.

"Doctor, my daughter says she is going to die."

"She is going to die?" The doctor was worried. If the mother was right, this was one messed up family. She was too calm. It unnerved him. He prooded Betsy with his thermometer. She answered.

"Yes, I am going to..." Thump.

Hehehe that was fun.
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