Tuesday, 27 November 2012

Twitter Fiction

1 – I heard the crunch of a branch as I tore it off the vine. The grapes tasted sweet with a hint of bitterness. I was addicted until I dropped.
2 – You yelled at me for being second best. I’ll always remember the tone of your voice, the rage in your eyes. I’ll never look at you the same.
3 – “Tragedy,” he said, “I’ve been through it.” The boy looked up at him differently. Tears filled his eyes because someone finally understood.
4 – It had never been just me and my dad alone on a trip. Why now? He came up to me. He said, “I’m so happy we can do this. I’ve been waiting.”
5 – It was four a.m. I woke to the ghastly smell of smoke, flooding into my nostrils. I yelled. There was no response. I panicked. I ran.
6 – She stroked the dull side of the metallic blade. She thought long and hard, but something held her back; something spiritual, almost holy.
7 – He raised his rough hand and placed it along her delicate jaw line. She stared into his eyes. He whispered, “This is just the beginning.”
8 – Why did I leave? Why did I give up on the most inspiring and real person I had ever met? Pain hit me quickly. It came randomly, sharply.
9 – She was rock climbing a grand mountain. He was on the edge. He held her rope up. She begged and cried. He cut the rough rope slowly.
10 – I was with him. I was always with him, but today was different. Standing in the scratchy wildgrass, hearing it blow in the wind. I saw love.
11 – Every day after lunch, I feel the scratchy tip of a toothbrush at the back of my throat. I feel sick. I feel tortured. However, I feel fit.
12 – My father isn’t who everyone sees. I’ve seen a side; a side that isn’t so caring or loving or beautiful. I’ve been a victim. #beaware
13 – I dream of the wooden runways, the high heels jabbing my feet creating blisters. I want to hear the crowd, smell the stuffy backstage air.
14 – I asked my father a question. He asked me one back. He lost his keys, he doesn’t know what month it is, and his question was, “Who are you?”
15 – I kissed his sweet, soft, loving lips and a smile spread across his face. A good feeling swept through my body, my muscles, my bones.
16 – I remember when we were young we would sit on the cold, hard concrete and pick off sticky tar. Why can’t we go back to feelingless days?
*(One group of small story tweets, same topic, could be conjoined)
17 – The field can be soft as clouds, hard as rock. When you slide, the mud can smear up your leg or you can feel the pain of the stiff ground.
18 – Playing in the drizzling rain is exhilarating. Your cleats dig into mud. Feeling the cold drops falling onto your hot skin is refreshing.
19 – Hearing the pound of your foot meet the blown up sphere and fly through the air to exactly where you aimed it to go is an amazing thing.
20 – I smell my sweaty self. I start to taste the blood and spit in my mouth from overworking, but I push harder and score. They yell.
21 – It was sunny and hot. She went on the dock and dove in. A man arrived. He dove in after. Her head went under and stayed under.
22 – I held the silver rod in my hand. I heard the waves crashing lightly against the boat. I felt a tug. I used all of my strength to catch one.
23 – The usual crosswalk didn’t interest me. It was much quicker to cut across one busy road. My adrenaline rushed. I made the wrong choice.
24 – I walked into the bland smelling doctor’s office. A bigger body pushed past me. It took long to get called. I was diagnosed with cancer.
25 – It was fall. I heard the crunch of the leaves, smelled the crispness of the air. I picked up a rough stick and I ran into you. Beginnings.
26 – I sat in my new car. The fresh smell filled my nose. I felt the smooth, firm leather and started the engine. I drove until I heard a bang.
27 – I took my garbage out one cloudy day. A terrible, rotten stench crept up my nose. One I had never smelled before. What if it was a body?
28 – The train whizzed by. Nothing was going to stop it from bulldozing the woman tied in front. No one was around. I leapt from my bench. Dead.
29 – I said, “It’s not you, it’s me.” He replied, “Yes you’re right. It is you. All it ever is is you”, and ran into the cold, November sun.
30 – I stroked the soft fur of my dog, my favorite companion. The smell of outdoors floated off his fur. I heard him whimper and his eyes shut.

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