[Do my homework] Write me a short-story
- Thread starter Jamezeo
- Start date
disclaimer226
Veteran X
no
also:
also:
wtf is that from? Look bad...no
also:
Holy Crap
Prologue:
Thirsty and fatigued Caitlin erratically stumbled forward. Left foot. Right foot. “One foot in front of the other; keep going,” the girl coached her body to continue. Lifting her heavy head up despondently, with the little effort she could muster, Caitlin scanned the horizon with weary eyes. The girl deluded herself into harboring a slight hope that there would be something other than the steel tracks she had followed for days. When her eyes failed to find anything new, she further became desensitized to disappointment.
A pounding headache burdened her mind caused by the omnipresent light that allowed for no shadows and made distance difficult to judge or perhaps it was thirst and starvation taking their toll? Maybe this is what it felt like as death closed in on its prey? With no texture, no hills, and no separation between the ground and the horizon, she must cling to the trusting sight of the steel rails.
Why did she continue? What drove Caitlin to torture her body and mind? The girl could curl up beside the tracks and fall into an endless sleep where she is free from the pain of her journey. Yet foot after foot she forced her existence further down the tracks.
Left foot. Right foot. The memory carried Caitlin further, and then suddenly her left foot didn’t lift high enough to clear the ground. She stumbled and her clumsy body collapsed to the ground. Here was her excuse to keep her eyes closed and drift away.
Minutes passed by. Nothing. The memory jolted life back into the girl. Numb to the pain throbbing through her legs, she climbed back atop her feet, and slowly continued her struggle along the tracks.
Another step, followed slowly by another. Caitlin pressing forward hit her down looking head on a solid object. Hope reanimated the girl in excitement as she looked up.
Nothing.
The tracks continued as far as the eye could see, obstructed by nothing. Puzzled, she stretched out her hand and it too was stopped by some unseen wall. In a panicked frenzy Caitlin exhausted the little energy she didn’t have as she felt all around, confirming that some object stood in her way. Even though the steel rails continued as far as her weak eyes could see, her body was not permitted further passage.
The memory surged through her fists as she thrust them against the wall. The dry skin cracked across her knuckles, causing blood to fill the hairline crevasses. Her cotton mouth and blistered lips forced out a few words in a whisper, “I’ve come too far. This can’t be. THIS CAN’T BE THE END!”
A single tear gathered in her blue eyes and rolled down her cheek only an inch before the dry pores absorbed the much needed moisture. Caitlin collapsed to the ground, the invisible wall supporting her back. With her head resting against the solid object that blocked her way, the girl gave up cried with tears she didn’t have.
Chapter 1 Storm Developing
The Victorian home sat steaming in the sticky heat and high humidity of the Vermont summer. Thunder Clouds loomed off in the distance, vying for the suns spot in the sky. The turn of the century home subtly embodied the unchanging beauty of the land. It seemed little had changed as the rest of society launched into the future. From gravel roads connecting communities, to rolling green fields as far as the eye can see. Stone fences dividing property is a familiar sight; along with the cows they helped to contain. Down the gravel road a half mile you found your neighbors, Farmer John and wife Suzie Q rocking away in their chairs, admiring the serenity of their surroundings. You may have completely forgotten what century you’re in until the occasional car passed by or a power line obstructed the view.
With this slower lifestyle came a diminishing sight in the twenty-first century: a family enjoying the day together. The family kicked a ball around in their front yard, gated in by a white, picket fence; the picturesque type that looked like it just had a fresh coat of paint brushed on. Father hurried to cook the burgers before the rain poured. Caitlin, a young woman, kicked a ball back and forth with her mother. Standing tall and slender, her reverent and quiet ways kept Caitlin from sticking out amongst her peers. Caitlin’s light brown hair swayed and shined under the sun, but she was most noticed for her jade blue eyes, that stared back at you like a pool of swirling water reflecting your every expression.
When you are having the time of your life, it is as if time slows down. Birds out making the music of the season and grasshoppers jumping around in a light breeze are all the more noticed. It isn’t that they were not there the day before, but rather you were too busy to take the time to enjoy them. Just as you slow down and become comfortable with this way of life, you are reminded this is the twenty-first century, and in this time of earth’s history, it takes not long before a modern convenience interrupts.
While Caitlin kicked the ball to her mother, the phone interrupted. Caitlin’s mother return kicked the ball, and then fearing it was someone important, took off running inside to answer. Thunder off in the distance slowly growled louder. Flames shot out of the grill caused by an out of control grease fire. Father turned to respond, in an attempt to save his meat. He worked speedily to re-arrange the steak, and to remove the burgers. In the haste of Mothers return kick, the ball went soaring a tad further than intended, sending the bright red ball over the white picket fence, and Caitlin running to retrieve it. Caitlin focused on the lustrous red ball, jumped the picket fence; the same picket fence that separated her property from the gravel road.
The wind picked up. The lightening crackled and the thunder shook off in the distance. The thick grey clouds slid in to declare their dominance in the sky over the cream colored home. Rain started to pour where beams of light fell only a minute earlier.
Admittedly, up to this point, I have failed to mention one of the more frequent modern sights found in Northern Vermont: The Logging Truck, eighteen wheels, three hundred and fifty plus horse power, and a payload of around one-hundred logs. With such a monster of a machine, it takes an experienced driver to safely operate one. With experience often comes confidence. Often time, over confidence. Joe, behind the wheel of this behemoth was attempting to eat lunch on the road to make better time. He shuffled through the greasy brown bag on the passenger’s seat. With the weather taking a sudden turn for the worse, Joe was good about keeping his eyes locked on the road as he obtained the apple he was searching for. Before he had the opportunity to lock his teeth around the Golden Delicious, the apple slipped from his grasp, and fell to the cabin floor. With the apple rolling around on the floor, Joe turned his attention downward; distracting him from the young woman less than a safe distance in front of his eighteen-wheeler.
As for Caitlin, she should have remembered the golden rule, listen up younger readers, LOOK BOTH WAYS BEFORE CROSSING THE ROAD! Caitlin had crossed many roads before. Many which were busier than hers. She always was good about looking both ways. Unfortunately with the distraction of the ball, she failed to do so the time it mattered most.
Now for the scenario that took only a few beats of a heart and ticks of a watch to setup.
Mother returned outside; it was a wrong number. Father closed the grill having the flame once again governed and placed the tongs aside. Father looked to mother, to hand her the burgers to be rushed inside before they got wet. Mother looked past Father and locked up with a look that caused Father to turn his attention back to Caitlin. Back in the truck, Joe successfully obtained his now bruised apple and regained full awareness of his vehicle surroundings. Caitlin having the bright red ball in hand quickly became aware of the sixteen ton vehicle in her shadow. “Caitlin!” Father screamed; dropping the plate of burgers, with time to do nothing more. Joe now aware of the awful sight before his eyes locked up all eighteen wheels, simultaneously cranking the steering wheel away from the small frame that stared up at him like a frightened doe. As the sixteen ton mass came to a sliding stop, gravel and dirt shot up from everywhere, confusing the awful sight, and cloaking the inevitable.
here's your homework, thank me when you've got the time.
Thirsty and fatigued Caitlin erratically stumbled forward. Left foot. Right foot. “One foot in front of the other; keep going,” the girl coached her body to continue. Lifting her heavy head up despondently, with the little effort she could muster, Caitlin scanned the horizon with weary eyes. The girl deluded herself into harboring a slight hope that there would be something other than the steel tracks she had followed for days. When her eyes failed to find anything new, she further became desensitized to disappointment.
A pounding headache burdened her mind caused by the omnipresent light that allowed for no shadows and made distance difficult to judge or perhaps it was thirst and starvation taking their toll? Maybe this is what it felt like as death closed in on its prey? With no texture, no hills, and no separation between the ground and the horizon, she must cling to the trusting sight of the steel rails.
Why did she continue? What drove Caitlin to torture her body and mind? The girl could curl up beside the tracks and fall into an endless sleep where she is free from the pain of her journey. Yet foot after foot she forced her existence further down the tracks.
Left foot. Right foot. The memory carried Caitlin further, and then suddenly her left foot didn’t lift high enough to clear the ground. She stumbled and her clumsy body collapsed to the ground. Here was her excuse to keep her eyes closed and drift away.
Minutes passed by. Nothing. The memory jolted life back into the girl. Numb to the pain throbbing through her legs, she climbed back atop her feet, and slowly continued her struggle along the tracks.
Another step, followed slowly by another. Caitlin pressing forward hit her down looking head on a solid object. Hope reanimated the girl in excitement as she looked up.
Nothing.
The tracks continued as far as the eye could see, obstructed by nothing. Puzzled, she stretched out her hand and it too was stopped by some unseen wall. In a panicked frenzy Caitlin exhausted the little energy she didn’t have as she felt all around, confirming that some object stood in her way. Even though the steel rails continued as far as her weak eyes could see, her body was not permitted further passage.
The memory surged through her fists as she thrust them against the wall. The dry skin cracked across her knuckles, causing blood to fill the hairline crevasses. Her cotton mouth and blistered lips forced out a few words in a whisper, “I’ve come too far. This can’t be. THIS CAN’T BE THE END!”
A single tear gathered in her blue eyes and rolled down her cheek only an inch before the dry pores absorbed the much needed moisture. Caitlin collapsed to the ground, the invisible wall supporting her back. With her head resting against the solid object that blocked her way, the girl gave up cried with tears she didn’t have.
Chapter 1 Storm Developing
The Victorian home sat steaming in the sticky heat and high humidity of the Vermont summer. Thunder Clouds loomed off in the distance, vying for the suns spot in the sky. The turn of the century home subtly embodied the unchanging beauty of the land. It seemed little had changed as the rest of society launched into the future. From gravel roads connecting communities, to rolling green fields as far as the eye can see. Stone fences dividing property is a familiar sight; along with the cows they helped to contain. Down the gravel road a half mile you found your neighbors, Farmer John and wife Suzie Q rocking away in their chairs, admiring the serenity of their surroundings. You may have completely forgotten what century you’re in until the occasional car passed by or a power line obstructed the view.
With this slower lifestyle came a diminishing sight in the twenty-first century: a family enjoying the day together. The family kicked a ball around in their front yard, gated in by a white, picket fence; the picturesque type that looked like it just had a fresh coat of paint brushed on. Father hurried to cook the burgers before the rain poured. Caitlin, a young woman, kicked a ball back and forth with her mother. Standing tall and slender, her reverent and quiet ways kept Caitlin from sticking out amongst her peers. Caitlin’s light brown hair swayed and shined under the sun, but she was most noticed for her jade blue eyes, that stared back at you like a pool of swirling water reflecting your every expression.
When you are having the time of your life, it is as if time slows down. Birds out making the music of the season and grasshoppers jumping around in a light breeze are all the more noticed. It isn’t that they were not there the day before, but rather you were too busy to take the time to enjoy them. Just as you slow down and become comfortable with this way of life, you are reminded this is the twenty-first century, and in this time of earth’s history, it takes not long before a modern convenience interrupts.
While Caitlin kicked the ball to her mother, the phone interrupted. Caitlin’s mother return kicked the ball, and then fearing it was someone important, took off running inside to answer. Thunder off in the distance slowly growled louder. Flames shot out of the grill caused by an out of control grease fire. Father turned to respond, in an attempt to save his meat. He worked speedily to re-arrange the steak, and to remove the burgers. In the haste of Mothers return kick, the ball went soaring a tad further than intended, sending the bright red ball over the white picket fence, and Caitlin running to retrieve it. Caitlin focused on the lustrous red ball, jumped the picket fence; the same picket fence that separated her property from the gravel road.
The wind picked up. The lightening crackled and the thunder shook off in the distance. The thick grey clouds slid in to declare their dominance in the sky over the cream colored home. Rain started to pour where beams of light fell only a minute earlier.
Admittedly, up to this point, I have failed to mention one of the more frequent modern sights found in Northern Vermont: The Logging Truck, eighteen wheels, three hundred and fifty plus horse power, and a payload of around one-hundred logs. With such a monster of a machine, it takes an experienced driver to safely operate one. With experience often comes confidence. Often time, over confidence. Joe, behind the wheel of this behemoth was attempting to eat lunch on the road to make better time. He shuffled through the greasy brown bag on the passenger’s seat. With the weather taking a sudden turn for the worse, Joe was good about keeping his eyes locked on the road as he obtained the apple he was searching for. Before he had the opportunity to lock his teeth around the Golden Delicious, the apple slipped from his grasp, and fell to the cabin floor. With the apple rolling around on the floor, Joe turned his attention downward; distracting him from the young woman less than a safe distance in front of his eighteen-wheeler.
As for Caitlin, she should have remembered the golden rule, listen up younger readers, LOOK BOTH WAYS BEFORE CROSSING THE ROAD! Caitlin had crossed many roads before. Many which were busier than hers. She always was good about looking both ways. Unfortunately with the distraction of the ball, she failed to do so the time it mattered most.
Now for the scenario that took only a few beats of a heart and ticks of a watch to setup.
Mother returned outside; it was a wrong number. Father closed the grill having the flame once again governed and placed the tongs aside. Father looked to mother, to hand her the burgers to be rushed inside before they got wet. Mother looked past Father and locked up with a look that caused Father to turn his attention back to Caitlin. Back in the truck, Joe successfully obtained his now bruised apple and regained full awareness of his vehicle surroundings. Caitlin having the bright red ball in hand quickly became aware of the sixteen ton vehicle in her shadow. “Caitlin!” Father screamed; dropping the plate of burgers, with time to do nothing more. Joe now aware of the awful sight before his eyes locked up all eighteen wheels, simultaneously cranking the steering wheel away from the small frame that stared up at him like a frightened doe. As the sixteen ton mass came to a sliding stop, gravel and dirt shot up from everywhere, confusing the awful sight, and cloaking the inevitable.
here's your homework, thank me when you've got the time.
wow they really brought the house down
High Fidelity
Veteran-4
wtf is this? 
A Christmas Story
Chapter 1
It was a cold, dark, stormy, blustery, dark, dark night in Utah. If you've never seen a winter's night in Utah let me tell you it's really really dark and stormy like a stormy winter's night in Colorado only slightly further west up in the mountains.
The boy was asleep in his bed, only he was really just pretending. Mother and Father had checked on him recently and fell for his clever game of mass deception. He had been practicing all morning, making sure that they were never let on by his trickery of keeping his eyes closed and lying still as if he were actually asleep, the fools.
Bear in mind that it was still dark out, and after he heard mother and father head to their room to go to sleep, he sprang out of bed and moved rather quickly and quietly and stealthlike rather like a giant predator cat looking for a tasty morcel of prey meat. Good thing he was catlike too because that made it easy to see in the dark and stormy unlit room lit only by the occasional burst of lightning that lit the darkness.
He arrived at the door and held his breath, waiting. Waiting. It's funny how when you want something to happen it seems to take longer right? Well that's not what happened with the boy. He didn't have to wait long before he heard the footsteps on the roof.
Leaping down the stairs with the grace of 5 romanian gymnasts, he moved towards the living room. On the other side were the softly glowing coals of the last bit of the fire. It was surrounded by the red brick fireplace, it's bricks were rectangularly blocklike. Dust fell from the chimney (which was connected to the fireplace to allow smoke out into the dark and stormy night) and a grin broke out across his face.
Two boots, followed by two legs and a round, fat, large belly squeezed their way out of the brick fireplace. The man moved into the room, and though the boy was hiding behind a chair the man spotted him immediately as if he were a Superhero with mental powers that knew all of his hiding spots ahead of time. "Why Hello there little boy!" the man said with a gleefully happy wink.
The boy could merely wave, still timidly shy of the arrival of such a strange sight. "Why don't you come out, I've got a little present for you!" the man suggested.
Now to all you readers you should remember that it's never a good idea to take presents from strangers, even if they're totally awesome presents like candy and pornography. NEVER TALK TO STRANGERS.
Also the Narrator should probably introduce you, the reader, to one of the little known religious icons in the country, the Utah Mormon Santa. It's perfectly ok to accept presents from him because all friends of Jesus and Joseph Smith are trustworthy. The boy knew this and came out from his chair to get his present.
Just as the boy revealed himself from behind the chair, a great crash of white hot lightning broke the dark and stormy darkness. The gleam in Santa's eye, that gleam of bright happiness like one gets from playing with a puppy in a dew drenched meadow, turned into a cloudy haze of evil intention. Had mother and father been awake, they would've warned the boy but the reality of the situation was all of his preparation was for absolute naught.
Chapter 1
It was a cold, dark, stormy, blustery, dark, dark night in Utah. If you've never seen a winter's night in Utah let me tell you it's really really dark and stormy like a stormy winter's night in Colorado only slightly further west up in the mountains.
The boy was asleep in his bed, only he was really just pretending. Mother and Father had checked on him recently and fell for his clever game of mass deception. He had been practicing all morning, making sure that they were never let on by his trickery of keeping his eyes closed and lying still as if he were actually asleep, the fools.
Bear in mind that it was still dark out, and after he heard mother and father head to their room to go to sleep, he sprang out of bed and moved rather quickly and quietly and stealthlike rather like a giant predator cat looking for a tasty morcel of prey meat. Good thing he was catlike too because that made it easy to see in the dark and stormy unlit room lit only by the occasional burst of lightning that lit the darkness.
He arrived at the door and held his breath, waiting. Waiting. It's funny how when you want something to happen it seems to take longer right? Well that's not what happened with the boy. He didn't have to wait long before he heard the footsteps on the roof.
Leaping down the stairs with the grace of 5 romanian gymnasts, he moved towards the living room. On the other side were the softly glowing coals of the last bit of the fire. It was surrounded by the red brick fireplace, it's bricks were rectangularly blocklike. Dust fell from the chimney (which was connected to the fireplace to allow smoke out into the dark and stormy night) and a grin broke out across his face.
Two boots, followed by two legs and a round, fat, large belly squeezed their way out of the brick fireplace. The man moved into the room, and though the boy was hiding behind a chair the man spotted him immediately as if he were a Superhero with mental powers that knew all of his hiding spots ahead of time. "Why Hello there little boy!" the man said with a gleefully happy wink.
The boy could merely wave, still timidly shy of the arrival of such a strange sight. "Why don't you come out, I've got a little present for you!" the man suggested.
Now to all you readers you should remember that it's never a good idea to take presents from strangers, even if they're totally awesome presents like candy and pornography. NEVER TALK TO STRANGERS.
Also the Narrator should probably introduce you, the reader, to one of the little known religious icons in the country, the Utah Mormon Santa. It's perfectly ok to accept presents from him because all friends of Jesus and Joseph Smith are trustworthy. The boy knew this and came out from his chair to get his present.
Just as the boy revealed himself from behind the chair, a great crash of white hot lightning broke the dark and stormy darkness. The gleam in Santa's eye, that gleam of bright happiness like one gets from playing with a puppy in a dew drenched meadow, turned into a cloudy haze of evil intention. Had mother and father been awake, they would've warned the boy but the reality of the situation was all of his preparation was for absolute naught.
Hazee Daze
Veteran XV