She waited by the side of the road. Umbrella in hand, water dripping all around her feet. The New York lights were blurred by the storm, almost like some sort of post-apocalyptic world. Maybe she could pretend that she was in Tokyo. A cab came by. Those yellow cars still running late into the Tuesday
He hated doing all the grunt work. He slouched down onto the large wooden create, his heavy frame causing it to creak. This was boring. All he had to do was guard a stock exchange. Takumi glanced down at his arm. His full-body gear was covering all the tattoos. He was decorated like everyone else
I was cleaning out my cupboard and found an about year old notebook in it. I flicked through it and found this piece of trash that I wrote for a writing task that we were given 15 minutes to do in class. I think the idea of it was to ensure that we practised writing
Please ignore the terribleness of this. “You are not a vampire.” – I’d lost count of how many times I’d hear that phrase. Uttered by people down these hallways caged in metal lockers. An endless path leading them to nowhere expect closer to the time of their impending deaths. – My pale skin, actually translucent
I haven’t written anything in forever. So sorry that this is Not That Great™. Jaxon had disappeared into the kitchen to mourn the death of his dishwasher. It’d been a good dishwasher too. Served its purpose. Lived a long life. All that crap. I hoped that he’d get a new one quickly though, unless he
Would you like to know what the hell this is? Because I’d love to know too please. I was rummaging through some of my old files the other day as you do – and then I found this. It slightly confuses me, I don’t know what genre or format of anything about what this is
I don’t even really know what this is. I wrote parts of it for a creative writing piece last semester and the story line is pretty silly and the characterisation sort of stuff isn’t the best, but it gave me happy vibes to write/edit so I’m sticking with it. It was fun. If there was
This is the first little story I’m sharing here! It’s terrible, but I’ll get better. Hopefully. She sneezes. Again. Cursing her allergies Mel fights on, duster at the ready. – “I thought we had a maid for this sort of shit,” she thinks, remembering her parents lecture earlier about her being more responsible – whatever
The Spooky Red Head Blog 