z

Young Writers Society


Ultra-short Fiction



User avatar
497 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 6400
Reviews: 497
Wed Apr 25, 2007 2:38 am
Teague says...



"It was all a stupid mistake," Tyson growled. "Yeah. That's what you always say."

The soldier winced at his ferocity. "But sir, I never meant to-"

His sentence was cut short as Tyson rammed him against the wall with the blunt side of his sword.

"You didn't mean to? Don't make excuses. You meant to kill people. You just so happened to kill my soldiers, your peers. You're lucky you're even still alive, you pathetic pile of worthless flesh."

The soldier collapsed to the ground when Tyson released him, gasping for breath, his face red with humiliation. Glaring, Tyson growled, "Next time you won't be as lucky."

---

107. Sue me.

New topic: Bubbles
"2-4-6-8! I like to delegate!" -Meshugenah
"Teague: Stomping on your dreams since 1992." -Sachiko
"So I'm looking at FLT and am reminded of a sandwich." -Jabber
  





User avatar
701 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 10087
Reviews: 701
Thu Apr 26, 2007 7:21 am
bubblewrapped says...



Keisha sat on the front step and watched the bubbles float across the lawn. Behind her, on the porch, her brother giggled to himself as he dribbled dishwashing liquid all over her nice clean skirt.

“Benny, don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“You’re dripping on me.”

“Ain’t. You’re mean. Mum says -“

“Mum says you should mind me more. So shut up. And stop dripping on my dress.”

Benny grumbled, but moved away, carefully positioning himself so that the wind would blow the bubbles back into Keisha’s face. She sighed, listening to her parents’ raised voices. She hoped they could go inside soon.

---- 100 words!

Next topic: Victory.
Got a poem or short story you want me to critique?

There is only one success: to be able to spend your life in your own way, and not to give others absurd maddening claims upon it. (C D Morley)
  





User avatar
459 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 10092
Reviews: 459
Thu Apr 26, 2007 7:35 pm
Poor Imp says...



'There's the path in the leaves,' said Sightless, wan features faintly lined and thoughtful. He pointed. 'Path down the world into victory.'

'Dear, no.' Filbin shook his head. 'Can't. How's that wot's victory is down?'

The still pines leaned, and the blind wind brushed both men's faces, brushed the dust and still over Sightless and smoothed cragged edges and youth in Filbin to passable tranquility.

Smiling, Sightless shrugged. Still he pointed, down into the brush and fallen leaves; and only the sightless could have seen a path there. 'Victory's always down,' he said, 'Always just a bit farther and just a bit lower; raise your spear tips up above the rising earth and fallen helms.'

Filbin snorted. 'S not. Mad, you and can't see wots your even saying.'

'No,' said Sightless, 'Man never could see words - or truth now, could he?'



--


I cheated rather blatantly on word count. Don't tally them up, please? ^_^''


Next: Savoir-faire
ex umbris et imaginibus in veritatem

"There is adventure in simply being among those we love, and among the things we love -- and beauty, too."
-Lloyd Alexander
  





User avatar
816 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 8413
Reviews: 816
Wed May 09, 2007 8:42 pm
Leja says...



I leave the classroom, headed for a the water fountain down the hall. On my left, two girls sit against the locker, talking. I know them, but not very well, and we don't often talk, so I walk right by. The watch as I walk past, my head down and my eyes on my shoelaces. "Thanks for saying hi!" they yell as I disappear into the distance. My face reddens and I don't turn around. Don't ever catch me saying I have any semblence of social grace.


(written based on the assumption that savoir-faire means "social skill" or something of the like)

Next: tree-climbing
  





User avatar
1176 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 1979
Reviews: 1176
Wed May 09, 2007 9:34 pm
Twit says...



Trees.

Fruit trees, apple, pear, cherry. All tall, all clothed in frothy white and pink blossoms like lacy ball gowns. All beckoning, all with wide, spreading branches, smooth and comfortable seats to gaze down at lower mortals on the ground. Les grinned, feeling the warm breeze stroke his face. Rock a bye baby, on the tree top...

He inched forward on the branch, the rough bark scratching his skin. His hand reached out, just touching the apple hanging on the slender twig in front of him. His fingers grazed its rosy sides, nudging it so it flinched away from him. When the wind blows, the cradle will rock...

"Les! Where are you? Are you in that tree again?"

At the sound of the voice, harsh and discordant, Les' dreamy mood dropped from him like a discarded jacket. He snatched impatiently at the ripe fruit, overbalanced and fell. He hit the ground hard.


Preparation.
"TV makes sense. It has logic, structure, rules, and likeable leading men. In life, we have this."


#TNT
  





User avatar
280 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 794
Reviews: 280
Thu Jun 14, 2007 8:17 am
Nutty says...



Kyln stretched.

"Kyln! Are you ready for this?" His friend, Pyte, was watching him with frantic eyes.

"Yes! I've been in worse fights then this."

"Not with hundereds of people watching! This is the circus. People here are convicts or want to die."

Klyn shrugged. "War, sport, it's all the same." He flexed his muscles, oiled to show off what the months of training had produced.

"You're preparing for death, you do relise?" Pyte muttered.

"Yes." Now at the door, breathing heavily, he stepped out to a raging crowd.

Pyte shook his head. He would never see his friend again.



assassination
It's not easy having a good time. Even smiling makes my face ache.
  





User avatar
11 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 1690
Reviews: 11
Sat Jul 14, 2007 7:38 pm
logosgal says...



Why try to assassinate Sasha? As far as I knew, her only enemies were her father’s business enemies. I could understand someone kidnapping her for ransom: her father could pay any price. But kill? Who would gain from that?

I decided to say nothing to Sasha or to Chester, her creepy bodyguard. Ket warned me because he respected me. How could I explain that without revealing my secret? Chester would probably never let me near her again if he knew I had any association with the world-famous assassin. I could defend her. That’s what super heroes are for, right?

Woohoo! 99 words! :D

Next: Spanish butterflies
Home is where the books are.
  





User avatar
816 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 8413
Reviews: 816
Sun Jul 15, 2007 6:50 pm
Leja says...



What’ so special about Spanish Butterflies? What makes them different from the English ones, or the Peruvian ones, or any other butterflies you might see?

This one, for example. She’s only got the prettiest wings, and the most delicate hands. She only knows how to fly in front of your face, then dart away before you can catch her. We only danced in the park until midnight. And she only flew away to never come back.

What’s so special about a Spanish Butterfly?


---
83 words
Next: staplers or paper clips; which is better?
  





User avatar
701 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 10087
Reviews: 701
Mon Sep 17, 2007 5:51 am
bubblewrapped says...



I confess that I am partial to paperclips. I mean, okay, they’re kind of ugly and often let the papers in the middle slip out, but at least there are no sharp bits. So far as staples are concerned, well – we have a mutual agreement not to get involved with one another. I can’t count the number of times that an ill-placed staple has torn open my finger and left me bleeding all over the paperwork. It’s painful. Not to mention disgusting. Who needs big red smears across their essays? No, I’m definitely a paperclip girl all the way through.

--- Exactly 100words

Next topic: civil war
Got a poem or short story you want me to critique?

There is only one success: to be able to spend your life in your own way, and not to give others absurd maddening claims upon it. (C D Morley)
  





User avatar
816 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 8413
Reviews: 816
Sat Oct 06, 2007 11:13 pm
Leja says...



[nice, bubbles! :D]

Civil war is breaking out in the refrigerator. Salad dressings threatening to take over shelf space for vegetables (consuming them at all points of the operation), butter sliding towards a coveted door space; what's next? Yogurt and milk duking it out over who's "purer" [whatever they'll decide that to mean]? I can't take this anymore! The fruit basket has made no comment on the confrontation. Though the cupboards report of popcorn ready and waiting, though the salsa on the top shelf is assuring everyone that none of that will be necessary; the conflict will surely be contained momentarily.

100 words exactly :D

Next topic: a penny collection
  





User avatar
376 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 16552
Reviews: 376
Sun Oct 07, 2007 3:15 am
View Likes
Trident says...



Mrs. Tammy Johnson deposited a penny in a cleaned-out jam jar every time she sinned. If she happened to catch herself in a lie or curse her husband in anger, she took a shiny red coin from her pocket and placed in that jar. After fifty-three years of marriage, after her husband had only recently passed, she counted those pennies and the sum total of her life. She let out a small sigh. It only amounted to seventy-three cents.

Biscotti
Perception is everything.
  





User avatar
62 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 890
Reviews: 62
Sun Oct 14, 2007 9:09 pm
jonny911 says...



Beppe walked in to the restraunt, pockets jangling with euros dying to be spent. His stomach rumbled. The bartender, Cesarina, tuned to greet her new guest.

"Hello, how are..."
"Some biscotti pleasem" he rudely inteupted.
"Fine," huffed Cesarina.

Cesarina dealt with some other customers, but Beppe's glaze reminded her she forgot his Biscotti. She grabbed some from the rubbish, wiped of the slobber, and handed it to the man. He took one bite and screamed. "You call this biscotti!"

He stormed out, never to be seen again.

Next: Pilates
"Son, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
"A felon!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yah! This kid at school says they get all the girls!"
"I should try that..."
  





User avatar
34 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 890
Reviews: 34
Fri Oct 19, 2007 2:43 am
Rjjr_vectra says...



Bob was stretching, he was stretching hard indeed. His manly-smelling feet were right above his head, waging war against the Febreeze a traitor shot, starting the Battle of Pilates Studio. His enemies were all scantily clad, sweaty, and barely able to stand up to the mighty weapon. Their noses were furious, desperately trying to defend themselves for another assault. Retaliation was in the form of empty threats and shrill screams. They were futile to resist, and futile even more when Bob unleashed his coup de grace of the gaseous nature.

Next: Pies in disguise
I'm not here, this isn't happening...
  





User avatar
9 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 890
Reviews: 9
Mon Oct 22, 2007 5:15 pm
TheRainFalls says...



I stared at the muddy mess my mum had placed ın front off me. How ın the nameof my holy socks am I supposed to stomach that? I pıcked up my fork, proddıng at what was supposed to be a pıe, a thıck oozıng lıquıd steamed out of the holes. Gravy? I put ıt to my mouth to fınd the what looked lıke mud was dryed gravy. Woah... a pıe ın dısguıse. Wııcked...

Ivy Leaves
  





User avatar
115 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 890
Reviews: 115
Mon Oct 22, 2007 9:03 pm
Icaruss says...



-Here, she says. I smile at her, and grab the leaves. I bring them close to my nose, and try to smell them. Then, she slaps them out of my hand.
-What?, I ask, laughing.
-Don't do that, I don't know what they are.
-What do you mean?
-They could be poisonous for all I know, she whines. I chuckle.
-They're not poisonous.
-How do you know, though?
-I don't know. Why the hell are you giving me poisonous leaves for?
-It's just because I love you, she answers. -You know. It's a symbol of my undying love for you. There's a pause. We both laugh, softly. I think she's joking around. So we kiss. It's wonderful.

Road-trip.
there are many problems in our times
but none of them are mine
  








There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.
— Maya Angelou