five

fronted, not fronted. Okay, I give up typing for now.

giraffe

Just a short drive by for Doug. I'm not "showing my age". I'm proud of it. I'm 60 and I've lost many friends who didn't get to here. The Vietnam stuff should have taught us more about the futility of senseless wars. Sounds like you got that. Thanks. I'll catch up later.

notanotherone

five i liked your story - about the cattle futures i mean.

Nylecoj

Giraffe, your war story definitely made me think. Thanks.

Five, two good stories. Camelot Was Not gave me shivers, not sure why...

Doug

Don't even ask cause' I have no idea what this brain has been cookin' up. Obviously it is hellbent on being rather strange today (don't say it). I find this word list oh so difficult (I guess that's the idea) as I am not a big fan of medieval meanderings. If you get any sense out of this piece of horse hockey (Colonel Potter, M.A.S.H) please let me know. I think I'll go take a pill now...tee hee.

Selena

Her riposte was to whisper softly in his ear muffling the craggy sound of his voice. The breath of warm air that came with those loving words tickled him and he melted like butter on a hot cob.

And so it began, on a dark and stormy night…trapped inside a cabin in the middle of the densest forest that even light could not escape. Henceforth the dark…lightning bolts strobing like powerful flaming arcs crisscrossed across the sky making it stormy. And yes, not so obviously it was night only because I tell you so.

The puff of air had melted away his growling, but the kiss…that full lush kiss that was extrinsic in nature but intrinsic to the beauty of the moment. Lyre music from nowhere because they don’t play lyres anymore! But did they dance…danced like two wolves locked in a mating ritual gnashing their teeth like fangs clashing against bone, their hips undulating like a rip tide sucking in then surging out with such force that their bodies could not escape.

Feathers don’t grow on trees and if they did that lightning bolt would have turned them to ash! But Selena who was the mistress of many and the love of one was as delicate as that feather and could turn a man ashen with excitement. No, not that blush business, I said ashen. One dark pointed stare and a swardian charm would ensnare its victim and tonight that man was trapped…inside a cabin…on a dark and stormy night…afraid yet titillated.

Nothing could condone her behavior, but her behavior could be condemned.

Don’t be a coward! It is your turn to dance with Selena…

giraffe

It's pure passion, Doug. No obligation, no light. I like it.

morshy

Not a continuation of my previous effort. 254 words (without the title), and all the words are there.

***

The Second Fall of Man

The sky was clear, cloudless and blue. There was not a breath of wind, nor a sound to disturb the stillness. So where, then, had the feather come from? She watched it spiral lazily down, onto the sward of grass. And just before it reached the earth, it seemed to glow, to burst into a brilliant white light, before crumbling to ash. She blinked, not sure if she could believe her own eyes. Motes of sunlight danced on the remnants before they too disappeared, leaving nothing behind.

From a copse of trees a thousand yards away, Michael watched the girl’s confusion. It had not been his intent to signal his arrival in any manner. He knew He would not, could not, condone it. He was a knight, a trusted lieutenant. His was a watching brief. He was not to have any extrinsic influence. His tongue was quick, always ready with a riposte, but he had been told in no uncertain terms to hold it. From his hiding place, he continued to stare at the girl.

Sophie could no longer concentrate. The feather had shaken her, and suddenly the history of stringed instruments, the lyre to the guitar, could not command her attention. Was it her imagination, or was it getting darker and colder. She looked up, and stared in horror as clouds raced across the horizon. She jumped up, scattering books and pencils, and ran to her car.

Michael also looked up. He closed his eye and a single tear escaped. It had begun.

Doug

morshy: Bravo! You had me from the first paragraph. "She watched it spiral lazily down, onto the sward of grass. Just before it reached the earth it seemed to glow; to burst into a brilliant white light before crumbling to ash. " Loved it!

giraffe

I second that. It's vague about who the "watcher" is and who told him to stay silent, but you got a lot into the word limit.

Nylecoj

Doug, "Lyre music from nowhere because they don’t play lyres anymore!" LOL very nice sentence!

Morshy, I have to agree with Doug on your story too! I like interesting sentences, and you definitely have several in your story.

giraffe

255 w/o title. Got all the words (weirdly)

STUPID BITCH

I thought we had an exta in-sync marriage lyrically. Nothing was strong enough to undo what we had in the night. Maybe this here 'con' done too much wrong to wiggle her into the dance anymores. I could cry. She was good to me - sent me money in prison for cigs and chips and stuff.

Man, when I got busted for that attempt to rip-o' Ste. Paul's 5 years ago, she freaked out.

"How dare you leave me and the babies for this BS.?"

I felt so small, but she stood by me. She let me call her from prison ($2.00 per minute). She made me feel like there was someone on the outside who cared. Maybe she really loved me.

Then I blew it again. "You'll never know what it was like 5 years behind bars." I yelled one day.

She snapped "Youll never know what it's like 5 years alone either. Feather and Ashley constantly asking where you were. I wanted to tell them your life was backassward but I lied. I blame you sometimes that love is leaving." She's furious.

I slammed her to the ground. "You'll never know, bitch. I done my time for helping YOU and now you gimme lip?"

I kicked her hard, but this time the neighbor saw.

I get into the cop car and look back at her. I'm mouthing 'You'll stand by me'. Her lip was bleeding and her eyes were like saucers. I might get another 5-10, but she'll be there. I know it.

Doug

giraffe: Very passionate story. Loved the way you twisted the word list into different words to fit the story. "Maybe this here 'con' done too much wrong to wiggle her into the dance anymores." Love that line.

ladyhwin

I'll be back sometime today to catch up. : D

Angelia

Giraffe, I have to agree with Doug, love how you twist the words around to fit!

Nylecoj

That last comment was me... Computer glitched and it came up on mom's account...

giraffe

Nyle, Thanks. The story is about people who return to abusive relationships. I hope that came across. The word twistng was just another craziness.

Nylecoj

Last day to get a story in. Are there any more of them hiding out there?

ladyhwin

Wonderful job, everyone!! I agree with Nyle, what else could be hiding out there?

giraffe

I'll try to squeak one more out. I can't be the next TB since I'll be out of town, but this is always fun. This is 275 words.

DANCE WITH THE QUEEN

Nothing. That's what he always got out of the princess. Nothing. Not an extrinsic smile or greeting. It was like he didn't exist in her presence. Her father had knighted him and he assumed that would gain him some favor from her. But nothing is all he ever got.

He came back from a battle and was assigned the job of reporting their progress to the King. He passed the Princess in the great hall. She was listening to her lyre player and reading a book of fables. Not wanting to break her spell, he walked by softly on his way to the King's chamber.

"Stop. Where goest thou?" she said.

"M'lady," was his riposte. "I serveth the kingdom and must report to your father of our losses."

"Tell me, Lowly Man. Have we yet reduced them to ashes?"

"I pray say, M'lady. We lost 12 warriors at the first battle, but we blew them over like a feather at the Sward of Aaron."

"Thank you. I hope it wasn't too bloody."

"No, Your Majegesity." He was stumbling on words because of this unexpected attention.

"Hither then. Flee to my father whose demands you obey like a dog. I don't condone these violent acts and never will when I am Queen."

"Yes, M'lady." He walked off wanting to click his heels. Maybe this was the first of his dances with the future Queen.

The King was stern and demandingly impatiant. He reported his losses and gains and then went out through the Great Hall. She was gone - must have retired to her chambers.

He now felt one ray of hope for love in this life.

morshy

Just a bit of fun. Only 177 words long.

Inkheart

She sits on her stool, queen of all she surveys, weapon in hand and defiant look on her face. Her touch is feather light, but one wrong move and…

She mixes her formulas, turning ash into a work of art with strokes broad, short, swift, slow and deep. She takes a deep breath, preparing for her next human canvas. The harsh electric light dances on the needle, and there is beauty in the pain she creates.

She asks you to compartmentalise, to find somewhere deep within. A flower strewn sward in summer, a mother’s calming embrace. A flick of the wrist, and music flows through her veins, seeming to guide her hand. The ghost of a smile touches her lips. Nothing extrinsic can touch her, nothing can penetrate her defences.

With each thrust of her blade, she meets resistance. She parries, and then with a swift riposte, swoops in for the killing blow. She needs no knight in shining armour on a white charger. She is queen of all she surveys.