ObligatoryWorking on a book, poker, and french. Hooray.
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Midnight Runners - Chapter 1Chapter 1 - August 6th, 1986Midnight Runners - Chapter 1
Alice Auma stood as a woman for a brief moment in the streets of Gulu, Uganda, staring at the cart which stood in front of her home. Her hands trembled at the site of nearly a dozen young boys piled lifelessly, limbs and heads hanging limp from the wooden framing. The donkeys stood silently as they waited for their master, as though they knew the sad account of their cargo. Up and down the narrow street people went about their business, dust kicked off the ground marking each of them while keeping track of the bicycles and trucks in the distance. The sun beat down on the heads of p
by ~ThisIsntNotJT
fantasy contest entryIsaak Brauer took another glance through the sight of his long rifle, knowing the enemy would be in range at any moment. His handgunners were itching and nervous, a dangerous thing considering the devices in their hands. It wasn’t the same as leading a unit of crossbowmen; if one of their weapons fired early, you would be missing a finger or an eye, or perhaps just an impaled limb or jaw. If a handgun went off unexpectedly you have quite a mess. Isaak had seen a man last year double check his packing. Then he triple checked it. It was on the quadruple check that the gun became few up with its master, rebelling in a cloud of smoke and brafantasy contest entry
by ~ThisIsntNotJT
UntitledSince I left Tilea to seek my fortune in Nuln, responding to the letter of a man named Brendis who claimed to be the friend and partner of my recently deceased uncle, I have witnessed a great many things I doubt most of my kinsmen would have hoped to see in their lifetime. It's true that my people are well known, some would say infamous, for our love of trade and travel. Unfortunately this is a simple stereotype, a brand placed upon the actions of our mercenaries and merchants, their reputations more prevalent than their actions. It's a tool we Tileans use to work our way into advantageous and profitable positions; our word is our favored weaUntitled
by ~ThisIsntNotJT
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The PaintingMy mother bought a painting from a nearby thrift shop a week before the accident, but I didn’t connect the two events until seven months afterwards, when the figure appeared. She began as a sketch next to the garden fountain, hectic red lilies painted behind the outline of my mother’s back. I didn’t pay much attention at first, but began to notice when the garden pathway appeared like white dust on the hallway carpet, chipped away to make way for a white nightgown. By then I walked with my head down whenever I passed the painting the hall, and began to worry as the figure became more pronounced. It didn’t seem possible anyThe Painting
by `WineWriter
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Lt. Maria Laguerta: So then he must have already had the head with him in the front seat. Huh, that's weird. Why would he keep it there?
Dexter Morgan: I don't know. So he could use a carpool lane.
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The living billboard is asking you to check out the link! It's not bad! Honest!
[link]
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Lt. Maria Laguerta: So then he must have already had the head with him in the front seat. Huh, that's weird. Why would he keep it there?
Dexter Morgan: I don't know. So he could use a carpool lane.
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