Young Writers Society

'My hands are tied,' he told them.

And they saw that this was literally true, if not so in the figurative sense that mattered.

'Yes,' said the girl, 'But you're a wizard, aren't you? Use your head.'

He smiled, rather weakly and looked over her head. No lines in his face, but weariness in his eyes and a resigned apology.

Sixty words there.


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Next: Bavaria

Bavaria: spelt with three ‘a’s, an ‘i’, and the consonants b,v, and r. The word itself is rather trivial, it is a country in some area that no one cares much about. No one leaves Bavaria, and no one goes in it. You could even say it is a state of being, and for some of us, there truly is no escape from Bavaria. Our bavariums become entwined with our bavariers, and there is nothing left to do but kill ourselves with a pair of bavarions. But once we are dead, what of that? Then We must be in Bavaratory-purgatory.

100. That was fun to write.

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Next: zombies

(Clau, that was hysterical in both literal and more casual sense of the word. ^_^)

Though the wind picked up the scent at the edge of town, it rarely blew. Leaves and the scattered trash of desultory passers-by - those scuttled into the streets. But the thicker scent dissipated into the industrial dull air, into smoke and coal dust and the automobiles' smog.

But now and then, if the season were right, if the day were dark enough, the wind might pick up. Then it brought the outside in. And people remembered the no-longers.

The scent of death; rotting; despair - the walking dead.


Next: Long-lasting

Many things are considered to be long-lasting. Plastic wrap, for instance, is long lasting so long as you do not take it out of its package and use it; once used it will eventually shrivel and, thus, not be long-lasting. Supposedly, love is also long-lasting, but even more so than plastic wrap. Love lasts until the moment when everything snaps into place, and love has reached its highest peak. From there on out, it begins its own process of shriveling, degrading, and dying. This moment, which may last for months or for a second depending on the kind of love you are in the act of having, is the apex of life.

112, but I felt there was nothing I could take out, and I enjoyed the message.

Next: kissing

Jessica had never kept a journal. She had never had the kind of memories you wanted to fold away and keep, to revisit when you were old. But she did keep a scrap-book. It had been a long-lasting obsession: since she was six, and could be trusted to use a pair of scissors without opening a potentially fatal wound (whether in her own flesh, or that of the surrounding children), she had begun to keep scrapbooks. Now that she was nearing her twenty-fifth birthday, she had shelves upon shelves of them, full of pressed and dusty photographs, postcards and flowers.

Exactly 100 words.

Topic: Witches

Oops, you beat me to it Clau LOL.

'I'm not a witch,' said the girl.

With such conviction - the villagers began to feel rather dubious themselves. They looked to Pastor Malleux and avoided his kindled-coal gaze. They looked back to the girl, who stood absurdly small and pale, with her thin hands crossed over a neat pinafore and a Roman crucifix at her throat.

They looked back to Malleux.

'She's a blasted devil's cat, winding spells around my son!'

From the attic of the church came an awful scuffle. Someone was yelling. It sounded a terrible lot like the reverend's son.

'I'm not mad or b'spelled! I'm a bloody papist and it's your blasted fault!'


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Next: Vatican

Natasha walked toward the Vatican, casually blowing a ring of smoke out through her chapped lips. She looked up at the massive building, taking another long drag on her cigarette. It was beautiful, in a way, she supposed. Personally, she had never found much attraction for the palace or the city-state encompassing it, for she was neither Catholic nor a big supporter of the religion. But here, so close, she could almost see the hope it brought others. Almost.

What better place to commit the world’s worst sin? she thought caustically. She stomped out her cigarette and walked inside.

~*~

100 words! I'm liking this challenge.

Next Topic: Kissing (because I thought it was a very good topic and Clau never got to see a response.)

He was supposed to be teaching her how to dance; but instead, all she seemed to be doing was falling down. She tripped over her feet, then his, and again, in the middle of the clearing, she tripped over a rock, falling into his arms. Still, she tried laughing it off, but the joke was getting old. He hesitated for a minute, then dipped her; just like in the photograph: the one with the sailor and the nurse, and kissed her. Suddenly, tripping didn't seem so bad after all.

89 words


mushy? yes? no?
next topic: Travelling by train


p.s.: in case you live under a rock and have no idea what picture I'm talking about, it can be found here, among other places: http://www.life.com/Life/special/kiss01a.html

(Not so very 'mushy', Amelia - it's rather sweet, more than that. ^_^'')

The underground hit its stop, grating. Hollow echoes and stale air like a dying man's breath whipped through cracked glass, startled the odd, dully dozing fellow in the corner, tousled other passengers' hair.

'Another stop,' muttered the narrow man beside the door. 'Another damned bloody stop.'

He got an irritated look. Two unsteady men in long jackets staggered out. Curses filtered back in; the screech of metal and echoed stumbling.

'Another stop...'

Near enough, I hope? Though not quite a train. Seventy-two words.


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Next: Falling

The ground was a long way off. Forty two feet, to be exact. Even though she checked and double checked her harness, then had Ken check it for her as well, her blood still felt as though it was sinking from her veins. The platform swayed, ever so slightly, yet again making the two by two platform too small for two people. She looked at Ken one more time, then seeing his encouraging smile, she inched closer to the edge, holding tightly to her harness, then closer, until she fell off, plummeting towards the ground.

95 words .

next topic: a photograph

There it was. The proof she'd been looking for. For so many weeks, she'd ached to know the truth. Here it was. Undeniable, indestructible. A photograph, both of them together, smiling, hugging.
A tear narrowly missed the precious picture. He was too perfect, she should've seen that all along. Too good to be true.
She was content with merely knowing that it had happened, that for a few months she'd been blissfully happy. She turned her eyes skyward, not knowing where else to find him, but among the stars.
"I know you're real, I know you were here! You thought I couldn't find you, but I did!" She screamed as loud as she could, relishing the scratch in her throat.
"Baby, you never needed to look far," a familiar voice said, as welcome arms wrapped around her waist.

***

138...oops.

***
Edit: next topic: knee socks

What's the next topic?

Sorry. I fixed it. Next topic is knee socks.

I pulled the long knee-socks up my legs and fixed my pony tail before running out onto the court. They always fell down and messed me up at practice. My legs just seemed to be too skinny for the stupid things.

"Got it?" Shelby asked, passing me the basketball.

"Yeah!" I called back. I dribbled the ball towards the opposite side of the court and felt my socks fall again. I tried to ignore it, but when I tossed the ball into the basket, I was only focused on the socks. I missed and everyone shook their heads at my faultiness.

exactly 100!

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