A stunted, scraggly tree sat amongst a few crumpled beer cans and soggy fast food wrappers in a small patch of greying and equally scraggly grass by the side of a highway somewhere in New England. A few dewdrops fell from its branches, forming a small, murky puddle at its base. The dreary November morning allowed little sun through its grey, cloud-laden sky, and what did get through, the tree greedily soaked up with the few leaves still hanging on to its thin, gnarled branches. The tree’s roots wormed their way through the dusty and far from nutritious soil, lapping up the minerals they found with vigor bordering on obsession. The tree paid little attention to these things. It was busy making a plan. You see, the tree had been there since it was a seed, and had worked hard to earn itself a place among the ill-kempt grass and Bud Lite cans, only to be ignored by just about everyone. As you might expect, it was rather fed up with it all.
This is inspired by Treblemaker's post "Boop. A Tiny Writes Conversation". Also, I'm sorry for changing a little bit of the wording from the original text on Tiny Writes. I had to make it more "poetic".
A little "poem" of rhyming created on Tiny Writes as a "Goodbye!" to 2020:
It's almost the end of this horrific year! I think this calls for lots of cheer! Hurray! A new beginning is almost near, let's jump into it without any fear!
Lot's of laughter – can't you hear? And many smiles, not one tear! Let all the misfortune disappear, give a toast and raise your glass of beer!
Written by Roses, Treblemaker, Moonsand, Crescent_Moon, dogpoet and Mysticat.
Hearing footsteps approching the couch, Ember looked up from her laptop. Her sister April stood beside their ring-stained coffee table. She was wearing her workout clothes, a pair of black shorts, a light pink T-shirt, with her brown hair tied back into a short ponytail to finish. “Whatcha doing?” April asked.
“Finishing up my chemistry assignment.” Ember said, closing her laptop. “Are you off to the tennis court?”
“Yep! Do you wanna come with? It’s really sunny out.”
“Maybe later, I’m just gonna take a break.” All the equations and formulas are still rattling around in her head, god she needed a break.
Instead of leaving, April seemed to be contemplating something.
Sometimes scars come from heroic acts of bravery. Sometimes they are badges worn by the rescued. Sometimes they cannot be seen, only uncovered in time by trust.
And sometimes, you want a bagel.
It's one of those things that's a bad idea, but everyone does it anyway.....
First, think of the coler of the clowds. Necst, think of the coler of sno. Now, think of the coler of a bright full moon. Now anser kwikly wut do cows drink?
Anser: Milk
How is seven difirent from the rest of the numbers between whon and ten?
Anser: Seven has tu silabulls and the other numbers ownlee have whon silabull.
As Rey and BB8 walked along the adjective dessert, they felt an adjective breeze blow on their part of your face. BB8 said something that Rey translated as ”Those adjective nouns are trying to catch us.” Rey looked behind them and saw a noun with a huge weapon . BB8 and Rey verbed away from it. After they had verb at 20 nouns, they decided to stop. “ I verb like the element when a animal is verb ending in ing me.” said Rey.
A while ago, a month I think, my car broke down. I was on a freeway, and I was just barely able to pull onto the side. I got out, and waited for a car to stop. I could've sent for a tow truck, but I didn't want to waste the money and I didn't think that I would get any service out there. Anyway, I waited for a car to stop. Oddly, no one did. I thought I saw someone laughing at me, too. After an hour, someone finally stopped. They got out, and before they could say anything, I said, "What were ya doing!? I've been sitting here for an hour!" They looked surprised. "I only just came through and saw you here. Sorry for the long wait though." The next words that came out of my mouth was, "Ya dang right, sorry. You couldn't have come an hour earlier?" Then, they just left. Sped off, leaving me in the dust. Another hour went by until another person stopped. I said, "What were ya doing!? I've been sitting here for two hours!" They looked surprised.
"Winter is here," chilled the Snow Queen from frozen teeth. "Winter is here," agreed the snowflake, falling from Sky's icy hand.
I heard this all, hidden behind an ice covered tree. Suddenly, an icecicle cracked beneath my feet. The Snow Queen whirled around, her eyes blazing. "What mortal DARES to look upon me?" she shrieked. "You and all your family shall be forever frozen!" She walked closer to freeze me into a block of ice. I fumbled, dropping my thermos of hot chocolate onto the snow. The Snow Queen stopped. "What is that?" she demanded. "Give it to me!" I had an idea. "Okay, I'll give it to you, if you let me go, and if you don't freeze me and my family." Her eyes narrowed. "Fine." The Snow Queen grabbed the thermos, opened it and sniffed it. "No doubt, this is a secret potion for everlasting beauty !" she cried.
The apartment was full of warm light. It was nestled near the top of one of Manhattan's highest towers. The storm thrashed the floor to ceiling windows with harmless theatrics. I was sprawled on a too-stiff couch, staring up at the deconstructed chandelier that subtly denoted the seating area. The fixture was imported from Copenhagen where they made an art of filtering light.
I reached for the martini I had set on the coffee table. “Want to go to Copenhagen?”
Aiden pressed a hand against the window. “Why Copenhagen? I would rather be somewhere like Bermuda... or maybe Province. What’s the south of France like in October?”
“Stories always start when it’s dark and stormy. Have you ever heard of anything exciting beginning on a warm and clear night? ” I laughed. “It was a clear and warm night in Aix when suddenly, out of the fountains, came a giant gooey monster.”
“We had our first date on a summer evening.’ He pouted.
This is what you say when you get asked “Are you _______’s little sister?” ; this is how you act when you get that look, the one that says I think I know your brother but i’m not sure so I won’t ask ; don’t do this when someone judges you on your sibling; this how you smile and nod; this is how you change the subject; this is how you laugh when they say Oh, yeah, I remember ______; this how you reply when they tell you to tell ______ this; this is how to make cookies for _______ because they are 4 years older than you but still don’t know how to cook; this is how to get _______ to drive you there; this is how to get _______ to drive you home; this is how to persuade _______ to pick you up here; this is how you pick the music for the car; this is how to figure out the 4 songs you can play; this is how to call ________ a dimwit; this is what you say when _______ wants to watch Star Wars Again; this how to still like a movie even if _______ does too;
It started out fun but after about ten mintues I was ready break through the golden corn maze. All of this started when I asked my mom to go down to the corn maze they have a hallween festival with mountains of candy and our small town of vermont is famous for this corn maze. There is this silly rumor that it is hanuted or something but I don't believe it one bit, or so I thought. As I walk through the corn maze scared out of my pants I turn a sharp conrer and BOOM there is a scare crow "omg" I say I thought I was just about to be killed like a horror movie. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes. It started to get dark And I heard a HOO, Hoo in the backround. I recognize the area I am in ughhh I am going around in circles. Then I start to panic and then I break down and the water works start coming and then I hear a familar voice.
(My friend and I have been playing this game where we make up writing prompts for each other, then write a story about whatever we are sent. My prompt last night was: "Amazon sends you a free gift with your package, but instead of something lame like toilet paper, its a katana." I have been having lots of fun with my these prompts. Not only do they get me writing about new topics, they get me writing in new styles as well.)
I was very excited to get my box of tightly packed books. I had been treating myself to periodic brain care packages since Quarantine began to seep into my bones. I had surrendered to lethargy and I figured I would make the most of it: Homer, Machiavelli, Proust… They were all stacked up so nicely in their box, the epitome of order, of potential. I could feel the heft of all those weighty words as I dragged the square cardboard container into my living room.
It are time to shine. We are the future, present, and past. One choice can change everything. My choice is to shoot. Not just for the stars, but the ball. Boom.
"Yes. The one that we burned. I am supposed to teach you anthropology. Humanity is a terrible self destructive mess. I couId leave it there, but we have a whole hour to burn. So, for the benefit of your young innocent ears, I will expound. I will start by using the most ubiquitous of human devises: the allegory. And where else could one find a better allegory for the nature of humanity then our own history?"
"How can you already be pontificating? You just introduced yourself!"
"Pontification is a trademark of humanity."
"It doesn't have to be."
"We will see if you still think that once I have finished with my lesson."
"Please just start" “ "Fine. Here it goes: the story of the first interplanetary war...
Note: I'm writing this the way I speak, so I apologize for any grammatical errors.
Before I was out, things were simpler, to say the least. The questions were less, "ooo, who do you like, spill!" And more like, "oo, what are you going to have for dinner, DANG IT, you spilled the tea! Go clean that up!" Or rather, that was before any of us were thinking about being out and more about what we were going to find in our lunchboxes (let me tell you, I often found the strangest things—orange peel, dog food, even the odd piece of string that my cat had clearly ruined).
The ship was full of rats. They ate all the cabbage. Though, even the rats avoided the bread; the moldy foul bread we were forced to consume day after endless day. Our water supply was running low. But we didn’t think about that much, surrounded as we were by more water then we dared contemplate. Sometimes the sheer volume of the ocean got to us. We would stare at the sea and get a bit queasy. When we were especially melancholy we would add our own precious bile-tinged water to the frothing mass below. I don’t think any of us believed the sea would ever end. We each had our own beliefs about what we would find beyond the blue, but even our faith was washed away by the pure mind-numbing pain of the journey.
Moderator: Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Let’s get ready to rumble! And welcome to the 2040 Presidential Debate. In this corner: your incumbent candidate, the man of the hour. He’s given you such hits as casual racism and blatant sexism. He’s stunned you on the internet! He’s claimed that a global pandemic was a conspiracy designed to hurt his ratings. Please welcome, Ronald “The Man” Manson!!
Ronald waves
The crowd goes wild!!
Moderator: And in this corner! Our challenger approaches… with a focus on improving damages done to foreign policy and quote fixing our broken education system…(scoff) A woman with more degrees than children and a willingness to employ people outside of her family. But will a certain pair of factors make her tougher to elect? I give you Hilarabeth THE ACTUALLY QUALIFIED Woodhull
