Writing Thread

[Coral]

Just for yall to post poems, short stories, etc., or to talk about authors and books. Heres something I doodled up:

The reporters, like buzzing bees flooded the President's office. Questions flew across the room, mostly "What is the alien invader doing here? Have we contacted them?' and the like. Tuning up his microphone to a volume that shook the room, the President answered, " We can only hope for the best. The aliens have destroyed most of our skyscrapers and tall buildings. So far, we have launched all nuclear weapons we could use against space-based targets, to no avail. We have not seen any ground warfare, yet, but the aliens are from another planet in this solar system. One of our closest neighbors, in fact-"

At that moment, alien burst through the door, shooting laser weapons and explosives through out, massacring the reporters and killing the president. The last survivor took a picture of the invaders before he died. The picture was later analyzed by scientists after the invasion, and was out of focus, except for a small patch on the shoulder of the alien. It was the United States flag.

[Jalathas]

I think I get it, but if I'm right, you should have had a description of the US flag instead, because they wouldn't know what it was.

[Cobra5]

Man, all the old threads are coming back. Writing, quotes...

[BugHunter]

wait, was Coral around when the originals were around?

[Cobra5]

Nope. Maybe I'll repost that Bughunting story I wrote, I don't have much other writing I'd share publically.

[Coral]

I was around just before the insane writings thread closed down. Back in march, I believe.

[bethel]

((Its short hasnt been edited properly and may or may not be any good... but this story has been aching to get out all day today so I hashed it out on my break. It would apear I am in something of a Hitchcock mood today.))

Afterglow

Lauren stared up at the ceiling there was still a sheer clint of sweat across her brow from her exertions. Adrenalyn had given way to elation and then now, now she puffed at the last of her cigarette and blew little smoke rings into the air as her fingers lazily combed through Chad's hair. She felt that perfect feeling of laziness that can only come from complete content..
She sat up carefully so as not to disturb, and slid her feet into white slippers and draping her body in a soft white robe they had stollen from a hotel room in New Hamshire last fall. Quietly she padded out of the room, and smiled to herself she didnt know why she was tip toeing about, Chad wasn't going to care.
She walked down the hall of their apartment and tapped lightly on the side of the fish aquarium that sat on the kitchen bar counter. "Such cute little things" She almost sung the words as she began to busy herself in the kitchen.... pancakes, she wanted pancakes, the ones shaped like snow men.
She hummed softly to herself as she mixed the batter and poured it onto the griddle, the smell of buttermilk and flour filling the room. Chad loved pancakes, they had met in a pancake house where she had been waitressing 6 months before. He had seemed so perfect, a business man sure a little older than her but so distinguished... so intelligent, and he always tipped well and never complained if an order took too long. He seemed so perfect...Those soft brown eyes, he just looked so innocent and wise.
Of course no one is perfect... She sprinkled powdered sugar on the pankakes, and was only vaguely aware of the phone ringing as she made her way back into their bedroom.
The machine picked up the call and a voice associated only with pictures and envy floated from the living room into the bedroom. "Hey hon, Ugh I'm really sorry I'm going to be a couple hours later tonight than usual.... dont bother with the dinner plans, I'm just going to grab something on the way back from the office, bye"
She stood in their bedroom... he and his wife's and looked down at him, laying there so peacefully. Those big beutiful brown eyes of his staring blankly up at the ceiling. His mouth opened slightly in a look of perfect suprise and shock. She took a bite of her pancake and licked a few specs of powdered sugar from her lips. Her eyes traveling to the large pool of red blood that soaked through the sheets and blankets from the hole rendered by a silver Cross letter opener in his back.
"Oh Chad, do you think she'll be terribly upset about the bedding?"

[BugHunter]

(o_ O) woa, man... that is some twisted shiznit...

[Cobra5]

gah. Not my type of story, to say the least, so I'll hold off on my comments, to be polite .

[Abishai]

I like it. Keep 'em coming.

[Coral]

Apocalypse Now

A massive space station full of weaponry orbited the Earth. Down below, a charred planet lie. The speakers came on soon.

"Men of the Fort, if you are hearing this, I am dead or incapacitated."

The captain clenched his teeth and made a fist. When the order was finally given at the end of this stupid speech, the black gigaton bombs would spiral down and revenge the millions massacred...

"Do not let rage blind your thinking,"

The missile officer entered in the codes and looked at the captain, ready to fire.

"for our destruction cannot be avenged in any sane way."

Yes it can, thought one of the doctors, frozen looking at the speaker.

"The reason we put you there was to deter, but now you are purposeless."

A technician puffed his cigar and spit it out. What was the man thinking?

"Men of Fort Lenin, as Premiere of the now-destroyed USSR, I order you to put yourselves at the disposal of the President of the United States, in a world that will need your skills.

Irony

The technicians finished putting the final touches on the computer, and tada! The Terror-Tracker 300, or TT300 for short, was set up. A series of test runs and scenarios were put through it, full of social, political, economical, and technological data. The TT put out perfect, textboot answers.

"Hook it up to the nukes," said the president, softly.

The techs did as told, and just after the cable was plugged in, every nuke available launched themselves into the air...

... and plummeted right back down on such giants as New York and Miami.

[palla]

The orange bottle reminded her of the orange soda she used to drink before she went into the hospital. There was no way she could drink it now, though. It made her sick just smelling it. Sighing, she took it from the white paper bag, along with its twin, and sat down on the edge of her futon.

"Take one at bedtime by mouth," she muttered, reading the first. "Take one in the morning by mouth," she read from the other. The first was a tiny little circle. Oddly enough, it looked exactly like one of the drugs that had landed her in this situation in the first place. Do not misunderstand; she was not a drug addict. It had not been ecstasy; it had been Valium, mixed with some other kind of sleeping pill. Taking them had been a mistake. She could have sworn she had taken four, but it was hard to remember. That night was blurry. All she remembered was being shaken awake and taken to the hospital.

Reaching over, she hugged a pillow to her chest and curled around it, the bottles clasped in her hands. Tears traced down her cheeks, falling softly onto the half healed cut lines on her left forearm. Sniffling, she tried to sleep, but as a side effect of the medication, she could not. Instead, nightmares began to plague her, nightmares that were not really nightmares, but memories. Something had happened that she could not forget, but that she could not remember clearly either. Her mind began to slow down, trying to delve into the locked corners of her memory. It was important to her future, if she was ever to get by in life without hurting herself or without medication. Her future was everything, whether she believed it or not.

[Abishai]

I like it thus far. Are you going to continue with it?

[palla]

Yeah, I had planned on it. This was written in between chapters of my NaNoWriMo project, which took up most of last month's creativity. Now that November is over, I'll try to churn out something to add to this. It's not like I don't have plenty of material.

[Abishai]

I've found that having an abundance of material is a good thing, having an overabundance is not. . . .