Nov 09
fiction 3 comments challenge: Club
22donam's picture

This guy asked me to join his club


"Mate, this guy just asked me yesterday if I wanted to join his club."


"Woah, what'd ya say?"


"Well obviously I asked him what it was about, you know?"


"Don't tell me it was some kinda cult or somethin' freaky like that."


"Geez no, he said it was a book club."


"Oh yeah? Sounds chill."


"And then I asked him if you could come, cause I thought you would love to go."


"Aww that's sweet."


"But then this jerk is like "No way your friend's got issues" 


"UM RUDE"


"I KNOW"


"WHERE IS HE I'M GONNA WHOOP HIS A**"


"DON'T EVEN WORRY MATE I SMACKED HIM ALL THE WAY TO KANSAS"


"Haha oml, thanks for that"


"No problem mate, anyone that's got beef with you has got beef with me"
Oct 19

The Jump

The Jump
My feet crunched the snow as my thick boots led me toward the hill. It was mid-winter, a warmer day than most, and the tramping was making my forehead sweat. My friend Clementine was ahead of me, my short legs and puffy snowsuit weighing me down-and slowing me down. Finally, I reached the top of the hill. I sat down, not caring if my butt got wet or not. Mindlessly, my mittens picked up a ball of snow and packed it evenly. This was the best packing snow of the winter. It was the perfect mixture of wet and fluffy, a combination rare at least to Vermont. Judson, another friend, was thinking the same thing.
Dec 05

Ten Days of Winter, 1892

Editor's note: In the 11+ years of this site, I have shared only a couple of things on the belief that this is your site, not mine. But I am sharking this because, well, becaue I thought you might like to read/listen to it and, also, to see that some stories take a long time to develop. I'd love some feedback -- this is your chance! :) 

I wrote this piece of fiction for Winter Tales 2017 and it was presented by Vermont Stage in its shows Dec. 6-10, 2017 at FlynnSpace. (It also was going to be presented at a similar winter story show in East Montpelier on Dec. 16.)

Audio download:
TenDaysofWinter1892.mp3
Feb 13

The House

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on vermontwritesday.org on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)
Feb 13

The Pendant

NOTE: This is part of the Sprout1 Challenge. This piece was written by an anonymous writer during Vermont Writes Day, and we loved how it started us thinking. How about you? If you would like to extend this story, please click the SPROUT button below and continue it. If you find lots of sprouts, and we hope you will over time, and you like where someone else has taken this, sprout that post. Have fun. And we thank whoever posted this on vermontwritesday.org on Friday, Feb. 10, 2017. (We have made a few edits, by the way.)

The old iron bell jangles as I step into the familiar shop. I wave to the owner, a kindly old gentleman, who smiles at me as he always does and says hello. He seems to appreciate my visits, even though I don't often buy anything. 

I make my way through a maze of old bookshelves and chairs, paintings, vases and other miscellaneous objects. I know almost all of it by memory and can tell whenever the store has sold something. 
Jan 21
notlelified's picture

Innovative Interactive Humorous Interpretive Experience


1: Wait, have you finished writing your piece yet? The tournament’s in like… now! And you haven’t checked in at all. I know you’ve been busy, but still…
2: Why, of course I’ve finished my piece. I give my art the time it deserves.
1: Wonderful! You’re still doing an HI, right?
2: Hardly! It’s evolved to be so much more than that… No, it’s not an HI. It’s more of an… I-I-H-I-E
1: What?
2: Innovative Interactive Humorous Interpretive Experience!!
1: Well that sounds, uh, very interesting. Not like a train wreck at all. May I see it?
2: That depends entirely on you! Are you ready to be shaken to the core? To be rocked into another dimension? To see something that will stimulate *wink* all six of your senses? You (points at member of the audience)! Yes, I see you watching me, creep. Are you ready for the experience of your life? 
2: Wonderful! Let’s begin
3: Woah, I’m in an HI. That’s pretty weird.
Jan 17
aparker's picture

The Story Of A Unicorn.

January 17, 2020
Luna, The Unicorn 
Once upon a time in a magical land, there was a unicorn named Luna.  Luna had pink and purple stripes. Luna’s had powers where she had the ability to freeze people. She could also run very fast. Luna’s horn had pink and purple polka dots on it. Also, luna has pink spots.  Luna eats healthy food and she doesn't like chocolate. 

      Luna  had a problem because she wasn’t able to see. She ran into things. She ran into  buildings, chairs, benches and more. Her mother was very worried. So, her mother had to bring her to an eye doctor. Luna was very very scared. She begged her mom to not bring her, but her mom made her go.

The eye doctor checked her and said, “ You need glasses.” 

 Luna said “what!” 

 “Yes you need glasses.” said the eye doctor.

 “What!” said Luna’s mom. 

“Can I talk to you?” asked the eye doctor.

 “Yes.” said Luna’s mom. 
Jan 17
alyssap's picture

Jeffrey and The Spray Paint


One night, there was a mysterious man named Jeffrey. Nobody knew him. He strolls the neighborhood roads at night. The neighborhood is in Rutland. It has 5 houses on each side. Each house looks identical to the next one. The houses have a pink roof and a purple siding. Each house has 4 windows and an upstairs. 

One night Jeffrey was strolling through the neighborhood and saw a house. He decided he was going to spray paint the house. 

He went to the store and got spray paint the next day. When he felt that it was late enough at night and everyone was asleep, he went to a house and spray painted it. He didn’t know that the spray can would be loud enough to wake everyone up! The neighbor woke up and looked out her window. She saw Jeffrey and called the police. They came and brought Jeffrey home because they thought that he would learn his lesson. He stayed home until the next morning and then spray painted another house.
Jan 17
Ms. Naugle's picture

When People Tell Stories That They Just Made Up…

When a person speaks:

“Soooo… once there was a… umm.. There was a girl, and… um.. She lived in.. um.. A water park… yeah, so she… um….. Saw spirits.. Yeah.. and uh.. no one else could see them… and… um.. So.. yeah. 

 

As told in a story:

There once was a girl who lived in a water park, she could see spirits. Although she could see spirits, no one else could see them.


Do you see the difference? Of course you do.


Adelle Danilchick
Age 10

 
Jan 17
arahorse's picture

mystique


One day I was walking down the street and I was searching the ground for something valuable, just like I always do. Today though, I wasn't interested in the loose pennies and nails I always saw. I was looking for something, I'm not sure what it was, but I knew it would be there when I found it. There was a sort of pull… almost like a magnet and a paper clip. It was like a magnet, and I was the paperclip, being pulled away from the streets of Paris and into a world of light and dark. 

All I saw was the sidewalk in front of me, and even that seemed to be fading into the bright light that made the path to… well, whatever it was that was pulling me towards it. I followed the path, only slower now, knowing that there were dangers ahead that were yet to show themselves. 
Jan 17
cunninge1's picture

Awaiting Death.

Tomorrow I hope life will still grasp me in its clutch
I hope Death will await at my doorstep, patiently knocking
Knock, knock, knock
I hope for the door to remain closed, acting as a barricade
I try to push the thought of Death out of my mind, but it keeps knocking
It’s ever presence looms over my head, a dense cloud of fog 
Certainly, I am fast enough to outrun a landslide
But I will never be as fast as Death
Certainly, I’m strong enough to push the boulders and mud back up the mountain
But I will never be strong enough to lift the heavy burden of death off my shoulders
Certainly, I am as agile as a monkey gliding among the treetops
But no matter where I go, where I hide, death follows
Tomorrow I hope life will still grasp hold me in its clutch
As time ticks by life gets shorter and shorter
Tick, tock, tick, tock
Death gets closer and closer
It is a distant storm, rapidly approaching
Jan 17
farmer boy's picture

mystique


While I was walking out of Dunkin' Donuts, I saw a man that was as pale as a ghost, and stayed out of the sunlight as much as possible. He was walking toward the town cemetery. I followed him to the cemetery and then he disappeared next to a grave stone.

    The stone read Aldert Fread, 1897-1930. As I stood there, I wondered how he died and also where that mysterious man/ghost guy went. All of a sudden, I heard a spooky voice say “Who Goes There?” 

    I started to run for my life. As I ran, I thought I heard footsteps running behind me. I didn’t want to look to see who or what was running behind me, for I feared I might trip and fall and get caught by what was chasing me. 
Jan 17
Goaliegirl's picture

The Unknown Adventure


When I woke up at 6:00am on April 12, 1861, I thought it would be a normal day in the United States. When I went down the stairs my Dad was cooking some fried white eggs, crispy bacon and some nice buttered toast. 

“Morning Ava, ready for breakfast?” my father asked in a very cheerful mood like always, “Schools canceled for today, turns out there's going to be a huge hurricane this week,” dad added. “Weird because there are barely ever hurricanes in Vermont.” Boom!!! 

“What was that?”  I screamed. “I think the power went out, weird the hurricane wasn’t supposed to happen until about noon,” Dad added. Boom!!!

 “There it is again,” My father yelled, “But it’s louder now,”
 
Jan 17
Goaliegirl's picture

The Black Hole

Once when Riley was little five year old she always dreamed of going to space when she was older. All she talked about for years was how much she wanted to go to Nasa. One day she went to school and went to her friend Emma 

“I’m going to Nasa when I’m older! I’ll get to go into rocket ships!” Riley sreaked in excitement. 

“That’s amazing Riley! We can now go together! But how do you know you’re going did you get an invite?” Emma asked confused. Riley never knew you had to get an invite to go to Nasa and fly in rocket ships. 

“Yes but in a few years I can go because I’m too little I might just float into space and never come back.” Riley lied so Emma would believe her, and reply nicely. 

On the way home she was blabbering to her Dad that she told Emma she was going to Nasa and fly up in space. 
Jan 17
I love writing's picture

The Witch In Me

    In 1692 witches were under attack because of Abigail Williams and her cousin Betty Parris. Abigail Williams is my great-grandmother. OMG, I almost forgot to tell you who I am. I am Kathy Williams, great-granddaughter of Abigail Williams if you don’t know who Abigail Williams is that’s ok not everyone knows.
   “Kathy ann Williams get your butt to school right now young lady,” yelled My Mother.
   “I am coming, Mother,” I yelled back. So yeah, my mother is not really one to wait so I better go before she comes up and uses her magic on me. My mother dropped me off at school and when I say dropped I mean dropped.  
 “There you are,” said Harmony. Harmony is my BFF.
 “ Sorry my sister forced me to clean up her mess that she blamed me for,” I said angrily.
 “ Wow Melody did that again,” Harmony said looking surprised.
  “ Yeah she is a brat, I am so mad at her,” I shouted, “ Wow that was loud.”
Jan 17
nfarnham's picture

Waves


I walk along the edge of the ocean dipping my feet into the cold water. I run my hands through my hair and sigh. It has been three weeks since the accident. I should be getting better at holding this in. 

    I walk a few feet into the water and look out at the sun rising slowly in the distance turning the sky red, orange, and then finally pink. I walk further out until the water is just above my waist. 

    Would the accident gone better if I had been there for her? No, obviously not. It would have gone bad either way but I should have been there no matter what. 

    I stare out at the waves seeing how the move in such perfect grace. There is no  mistakes and it goes where it wants. I wish that everything in life could be as simple as the waves.
 
Jan 15
L1CK's picture

The Man In The Corner

The room sat in a quiet stance, my bed was hidden away behind the walls and a door to the hallway outside. My sleep was faint and could have been broken by the movement of a mouse across the wooden floor. My awkward positions, made me subconsciously continue to look for a better spot to lay. My eyes opened, I couldn't tell from what. The heat from the blankets and humid air finally hit me. I quickly began to sweat, more uncomfortable awake then I was asleep. I pushed the covers down and sat up in my bed, my feet touching the floor. It was the coldest thing in my room. It was a soothing sensation that ran from my toes to the tips of my fingers. My vision was still adjusting to the shadowy atmosphere that surrounded my being.
Jan 15

Holding Her Hand

When she is born you hold her close. You caress her small, soft head as you put her to sleep. You hold her hands as her small pudgy feet pad across the white carpet. She clings to you fiercely as you urge her onto the bus for her first day of school. Your smile is her only reassurance. When she gets onto a bike without training wheels for the first time, you give her shoulder a squeeze, then grip the back of her seat. You give her a thumbs up and she’s off. You walk with her, then run, still holding onto the seat. You finally let go. She flies down the street, as if you were still holding on. But then she starts to teeter, and her feet can’t keep up with the pedals. She tips over and falls. She gets hurt. It’s not the only time. All you can do is put Band-Aids on her cuts and wipe away her tears. It surprises you when you realize that you're the one crying. Crying as you watch her walk across the stage and accept her diploma. That day, she had to be the one to wipe away your tears. You begin to see her less and less as she pursues her future. She used to never want to let go. But now, your relationship is made up of small gestures. A wave, a hug, a kiss on the cheek, a letter, a card, an email, a text. When you see her again you're lying on a cot, machines beeping and buzzing around you. You thought you might never see her again. You know she didn’t mean to, but she left you behind. But you would never say anything. You would never hold her back. So when she walked into that room, tears streaming down her face, but still smiling, you were content. She stayed by your side all night. Fell asleep holding your hand, head resting on your lap. That was all you needed. Just to see her one last time. You could let go now. You knew she’d be okay, and so would you. You didn’t need to hold her hand anymore, and she didn’t need to hold yours.
Jan 15
Goaliegirl's picture

The Forests Friend

“What was that!” a tall man with an axe yelled. Who was in the middle of chopping down trees for firewood in the winter, when he saw something moving from inside a bush nearby.

 “Who’s there!” the man yelled again. The tall man approached the bush that he saw move with caution, not knowing what he was about to see. The man pushed aside the bushes stems only to see a small rabbit hiding inside. But little did he know that the small rabbit was protecting a tree nearby, in front of the tree was a small girl about twelve years old was blending into the tree. With her dark copper brown skin blended in with the trees dark brown bark, and her red-ish orange hair that blended in with the red autumn leaves. 

“Squeak! Squeak!” a noise came from above the small girl.
Jan 14
ameliajane's picture

Tomorrow's Hopes

   Tomorrow, I hope to become this person. The person who can walk with so much confidence that the room must turn and watch. The person who can pull out any number of clothes and walk around feeling like a rockstar. The person that people gravitate towards, like polarized magnets. The person who can stay sweet and generous, even on a bad day. The person who radiates a cool persona, making people feel at ease. The person who everyone can count on. The person who everyone loves to talk to.