express yourself
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.
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. 
Sep 25

Sister's Can't Stop Loving Eachother

One ordinary day in the Mikaelson house Sarah and Elena were just hanging out together like they usually do. They never stop. They always do everything together. Sarah

    walked out into the living-room to ask their mom a question.

“Hey mom,are we going to our dad’s this weekend?” Sarah asked.

“As far as I know you are.” Jocelyn their mom said.

“Oh cool, thanks.” Sarah said with a good expression on her face while walking away.
Sep 25

Raging Introvert

Raging Introvert

I’m extremely introverted. What does that mean? You may ask. The answer is, “a person who frays away from crowds and is quiet and reluctant.” I’ve never thought of this is as a weakness. More of a strength. I’m okay with being different than others. I’ve always been an “on my own” kind of person. Often people say that I’m “lonely” or “sad”, but I don’t mind being alone sometimes. I do my best thinking when I’m alone. I have a vivid imagination.
Sep 25
fiction 0 comments challenge: Dare
Callista.reed's picture

The creppy house on Gordie st

My friend, kathrine, dared me to go into the really crappy house down the street. She said she would pay for my lunch tomorrow, so I agreed. She walked with me to the but she didn't come with me inside. When i walked in the door slammed, it was probably Katherine that slammed the door. I slowly walked more into the house, there was a huge staircase leading up to the nd floor. There was cobwebs everywhere and everything was covered by dust.
Sep 25
fiction 0 comments challenge: Young
DAVIE's picture

When i was young

When i was young it was amazing, but i wish i had apreciated it more instead of hating school every day.I didnt think it could get worst.My family members and others told me that being a kid was great.And the truth is,is that theyre right.But i didnt listen and i regret eery single bit of it.
Sep 25
DAVIE's picture

''Don't judge a book by its cover''

I needed insparation for my drawing so i went to the park i see this girl siting on a bench.She was wearing headphones and reading a book,i ask her what are you reading she does not respond i get angry and speak louder.She leaves, i really though that she was mean.Went she left she forgot one of her drawings on the bench i look at the drawing.She drew me and she wrote''sorry for bothering you if i did i am deaf''. 
 
Sep 24

A Conversation of Sorts


Said the pen to the pencil, “A rather dark look you bear today, little one, collecting dust with that frown of yours.”

“I’m tired.” The pencil rubbed its nose and coughed. “I’m sick.”

“Sickness because of exhaustion or exhaustion because of sickness?”

The pen placed a cold hand on wood. It had bright eyes and a voice of marble and quartz. It was the fountain pen of the philosopher with black whiskers. It knew quite a few things.
Sep 22
DAVIE's picture

PHOTO1-WAKE

  

                                                                                      2 days earlier


Sep 21
l.jones's picture

Daily War


What wakes me up the most is the noise of my hand slapping the alarm clock, not the ear-piercing noise the machine emits. My fingers rest on the snooze button, contemplating for half a second what part of my morning routine could I give up: just throw my hair up in a bun? Maybe keep the makeup to a very minimum, just mascara, and if I have a nasty pimple, a small dot of concealer?
Sep 21

Still Dreaming

This morning when I hit my alarm clock it turned into a car.  It was a giant blue car sitting on top of me.  It was slowly getting smaller.  The car got smaller so I decided to eat it.  Now I’m small.  As small as a baby.  But I’m not a baby.
Sep 21
joseph.deffner's picture

Friends Forever


Friends Forever

My name is Isabella and I am different than all of the other leaves. When everybody changes their color, I stay the same. My mom never changed colors either.

It was the time of year when everybody got to change their color. All my “friends” were huddled up, not including me, talking about what color they were going to change to this year. I was never included in those things because apparently I didn't “fit” in.
Sep 20
zoebarton's picture

Procrastination


The first time the clock goes off, she turns it off half-concious, the movement a muscle memory due to the repeating days on end she must hit snooze and go to school.
Sep 20
William789's picture

Dream

Internally groaning, he once more slammed his hand down on the snooze button. "Just five more minutes," he thought to himself. The man really liked sleeping and didn't want to deal with the responsibilities he would have if he woke up. Falling back asleep, he decided that maybe waking up wasn't very important anyway. Later, he irritably hit the snooze button once more, figuring that nobody would really notice his absence.
Sep 20

funny


i find it funny
how sometimes 
i try to write about
love

as if i know anything
about it
Sep 18

An Unneeded Wake Up On Sunday


The alarm blared loudly, the obnoxious noise causing the male to groan as he slams his hand on the top of the alarm clock to shut it up. The clock reads 6:30am. He slowly opens his eyes, squinting them to be able to see as the sun breaks through the curtains of his room. He sits up, running a hand through his hair as he begins to wake up. He turns to the edge of his bed so he can stand up. A loud, drawn out yawn escapes his mouth.
Sep 16

The Porchstep

The rain fell down, drumming against the roof like a drunken beat.
Sep 16
jbird18's picture

Toad in a Hole

The toad was in a hole.

"Why are you in a hole?" asked the spider-man.

"I am in a hole because I want to be in a hole," responded the toad.

"Oh," said the spider-man. "That's cool."

"It is," said the toad. "But I have a question for you."

The spider-man smiled.

"Why am I an egg?" asked the toad.

"Well," said the spider-man, "I am not sure. I think it is because your parents named you an egg."
Sep 15

Dialogue


“What the hell?”

“Oh crap. Is it out of gas or something?”

“No! It can’t be out of gas…  no. That is not what is going have stopped us. No. I have faith. C’mon! One, two, three, start! One, two, three, start. Onetwothree… start! C’mon, you stupid car just fricking start already—”

“If it’s out of gas I don’t really think there’s anything we can do… ”
Sep 15
Fiona Ella's picture

brief history of montmaray REWORKED beginning

same book. 
couple things: first, YES i am giving you nineteen pages of screenplay. i have no shame. 
second, this is a reworked version of the montmaray thingy that i wrote a while ago. i got a comment on it today and thought, oh hey, i rewrote this even better! why not put the new one up to compare! it might be even worse. just another version.