Missed my flight September 11, 2001.
Our happy family boarded the Titanic.
Broken man finds dog: mutual rescue.
Never trust a man with pudding.
Some of these are great. (that’s not a story!)
“That’s not Dad, is it?”
Mary started spotting. She carried on.
Weedy flowers have reclaimed the spot.
You people really came up with these yourself? I love them, some real gems there ! Each is, indeed, a story.
She stopped crying long before impact.
Hot tears fell like Arizona rain.
Standing at the precipice, I jumped.
The voices only whisper now
Ten fingers, three hands
He looked down on her body.
“Intruder!
…
…
Reeva? Reeves?”
Through macrame she became God’s vessel.
He lied. She smiled through it.
Strangely, the flowers bloomed again.
He was a good dog. Mostly.
He absconded with the child.
The trite scandals masked foulest treasons.
:eek: I hope that’s a sign of a good sense of humor.
This one makes me feel the story the same way that the Hemingway sentence does. Well done.
Paraphrasing Sharyn McCrumb: “If dying quietly alone weren’t cheap . . .”
And I keep thinking that if I could just find the right noun, this one could be disturbing:
“Pardon, are you using that ___________ .”
I’ll have to keep thinking.
Pardon, are you using that gun?
Zombies? Bugs et’m, took a week.
Pardon, are you using that:
toothpick?
ticket?
cane?
tourniquet?
He died as he lived – pathetically.
Fortunately, I left before the explosion.
Rock and roll saved her life!
Wolverines don’t make good traveling companions.
Only one bullet-hug me tight.
The clown laughed and died.
Our hopes dying with the flame.
(Don’t want to give away the ending.)
Pedigree collapse had formed his destiny.
Can we warp back in time so you can be my 12th grade English teacher?