Are any of you guys that hipped about this story contest i know i am not. I thought of another idea istead tell me what you think. Okay none oof us have evere actually finished a story aat this site. I say that we look at preveious posts and pick stories that eachother has written that we want them to finish and then they can try to write more on them if they want. heh? if it is stupid thats okay, i don't really care.
So i guess you guys like the teapot that spoke words. Sarah i seriously thought you were going to put my janet lingerberry one. BUt nice choice, i will write more on it.
It came out on tuesday but don't feel left out we haven't read it yet either because nobody in hot springs sells it! so we have to wait for dan to bring it home on the weekend.
joe yours is really well written. the descriptions are really good and its really intruging. charity yours is really good too. its a little confusing at some parts but the descriptions and story are awesome. you guys are good.
Honestly charity i was a little lost at parts. Some of your word choicing didn't really make sense to me, but the may be because my brain is slowly turning to mush. You story line in impecable and your metaphors are very nice. I never knew you were such a deep thoughted writer. Very impressive. Joe your story was indeed very well worded, your descriptions were marvelous and i truly want to read more. Please both of you write more. I have to say that both of you are way more talented at writing then i will ever be. I loved it! Spectacular!
It was the darkest and dreariest day in the month of February. Zane Walkers, an undercover mail carrier was delivering a package. A very important package to room H 2 5 in the Jimbo comfort retirement home. Zane, however was no ordinary mail carrier, he or she, whichever, you prefer, was an undercover agent for Simco, unfortunately that is all I know about Zane and must now focus your attention on another species with as much importance. Mr. Hatchworth, the official owner of the Jimbo retirement home. Mr. Hatchworth was a slim man always found wearing dark and accompanied by a briefcase, his hair was brown and in the shape of a mullet but not as long. Mr. Hatchworth was always gone on business, or so it seemed. There were a few select citizens that knew of his business, I being one of them had special privileges, some may call them secrets but I prefer privileges. There is no doubt that I will one day share this knowledge with you, but for now let me just say this, MR. Hatchworth is an acquaintance of Zane and no matter what actions he might do they are all for the course of evil, never will Mr. Hatchworth do something good. I am familiar with this knowledge because I work for Mr. Hatchworth at the retirement home and have witnessed much. “Good day Mr. Hatchworth,” Linda the town’s clerk said. “Good day,” Mr. Hatchworth replied, as he walked across the freshly fallen crisp, white to his retirement home. “Ahh,” Mr.Hathchworth said while gazing up at his building. The building was made of sandstone and it looked like an ancient castle. There was a rickety sign that was green and it said: The Jimbo Comfort Retirement home 887-456 He opened the door to reveal a overall mold colored room, filled with old people and smoke. The air smelled of smoke and perfume. Mr. Hatchworth slowly closed the door and walked across the old wood floor to the front desk. “Excuse me Olga, but has the mail arrived yet?” He asked the receptionist.Olga was an wrinkled old lady imported from Germany, she always wore a look of extensive boredom, and moaned anytime she was asked something. “OUgh, no I do not tink it as arrived et,” she replied looking angry. “Okay, thank you,” Mr. Hatchworth said while shuffling away. “Hey, Mr. Hatchworth, you back so soon,” Ken, a young boy who cleaned the bathrooms, said as Mr. Hatchworth walked by. “Yep, I had to come back, for Christmas and some mail,” Mr. Hatchworth replied.
julie your story is very interesting. I like your descriptions. Charity yours is cool too and not so confusing anymore. I like it. Jacob your little tid bit is quite intruging also.
I didn't have any ideas for thomas and the magic valley so I started a new one.
I remember that night like it was yesterday. Rain was tapping against the window. The room was dark, except when the lightning struck, and I was alone. I remember the smell of fire, although, from whence it came, to this day I still am not sure. The thunder pounded outside, sounding very much like a giant stomping through, crushing anything beneath it. I was frightened. As I shivered in my blankets, lightning struck and I remember seeing the silhouette of a man outside my window. I quickly pulled the curtains closed and hid underneath my blanket. A few moments later, I heard the door open and close downstairs. Minutes passed in curiosity and, despite my fears, I went downstairs to investigate.
Minutes passed in curiosity and, despite my fears, I went downstairs to investigate. Standing in the kitchen, warming themselves in front of the wood stove, was a man and a woman. The man wore a black newsboy cap over his dark hair, which fell over his eyes. His nose was long and pointed and reminded me of a beak. He wore a black coat that went past his knees and muddy black boots. The woman had her blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail and covered by a dark blue beret. On her face was an expression of intense apprehension. Her eyebrows curved downward at the edges and up in the middle, furrowing her brow. Her lips were red, whether from lipstick or from the coldness I am not sure. Her cheeks were rosy from the outside weather, but the rest of her face was white. She wore a knee length coat that matched her hat, and shiny black high-heeled boots. From where I stood at the top of the stairs, they could not see me. But I had a clear view of them and wondered what in the world they were doing there in the middle of the night. I could not see the other side of the room, but soon found out that the three of us were not alone.
Here is a monor setback in our creative novels to make room for some poetry...
the sun beat down like a magma pot, burning, burning that would never stop, the sky was blue and chissled with clouds, i hears up ahead some thuinderous sounds, i climactically sensed a storm up ahead, and went to burrow down so as not to become dead. THere was no place to hide, no tree a rock, it was obvious now that i appeared locked, locked in a room that was desolate so, with no plants or funiture to comfort my woe, the storm stuck and i was shattered with drops, rain poured down like a crime scene to cops, My head was so soaked and my mind was depressed. then a fairy came down and offered me rest. I took up her offer and laid down to sleep with the rain and the sun all blurred in a heap, when i awoke the was no shame to my name, the rain had all vanished, i soon did the same.
I like it joacob. Joe I am dissapointed in you very dossapointed, i can understand where your comming from... you just got to believe in yourself and ANYTHING can happen.
20 Comments:
Are any of you guys that hipped about this story contest i know i am not. I thought of another idea istead tell me what you think. Okay none oof us have evere actually finished a story aat this site. I say that we look at preveious posts and pick stories that eachother has written that we want them to finish and then they can try to write more on them if they want. heh? if it is stupid thats okay, i don't really care.
OKay SArah I really want to read more of your Adelaide story if you do recall it. And maryann I quite enjoyed thomas and the magic valley
yeah great idea. I changed the format of the main page so that it would be easier to look back on the posts.
i like the teapot that spoke words too. sarah i liked your portal to the sky.
So i guess you guys like the teapot that spoke words. Sarah i seriously thought you were going to put my janet lingerberry one. BUt nice choice, i will write more on it.
i guess i'l be writing on thomas and the magic valley. I was thinking about writing on it again anyway.
hey sarah did you get the beatrice letters??
It came out on tuesday but don't feel left out we haven't read it yet either because nobody in hot springs sells it! so we have to wait for dan to bring it home on the weekend.
joe yours is really well written. the descriptions are really good and its really intruging. charity yours is really good too. its a little confusing at some parts but the descriptions and story are awesome. you guys are good.
Honestly charity i was a little lost at parts. Some of your word choicing didn't really make sense to me, but the may be because my brain is slowly turning to mush. You story line in impecable and your metaphors are very nice. I never knew you were such a deep thoughted writer. Very impressive. Joe your story was indeed very well worded, your descriptions were marvelous and i truly want to read more. Please both of you write more. I have to say that both of you are way more talented at writing then i will ever be. I loved it! Spectacular!
Here is an old tinker,
It was the darkest and dreariest day in the month of February. Zane Walkers, an undercover mail carrier was delivering a package. A very important package to room H 2 5 in the Jimbo comfort retirement home. Zane, however was no ordinary mail carrier, he or she, whichever, you prefer, was an undercover agent for Simco, unfortunately that is all I know about Zane and must now focus your attention on another species with as much importance.
Mr. Hatchworth, the official owner of the Jimbo retirement home. Mr. Hatchworth was a slim man always found wearing dark and accompanied by a briefcase, his hair was brown and in the shape of a mullet but not as long. Mr. Hatchworth was always gone on business, or so it seemed. There were a few select citizens that knew of his business, I being one of them had special privileges, some may call them secrets but I prefer privileges. There is no doubt that I will one day share this knowledge with you, but for now let me just say this, MR. Hatchworth is an acquaintance of Zane and no matter what actions he might do they are all for the course of evil, never will Mr. Hatchworth do something good. I am familiar with this knowledge because I work for Mr. Hatchworth at the retirement home and have witnessed much.
“Good day Mr. Hatchworth,” Linda the town’s clerk said.
“Good day,” Mr. Hatchworth replied, as he walked across the freshly fallen crisp, white to his retirement home.
“Ahh,” Mr.Hathchworth said while gazing up at his building. The building was made of sandstone and it looked like an ancient castle. There was a rickety sign that was green and it said:
The Jimbo Comfort Retirement home
887-456
He opened the door to reveal a overall mold colored room, filled with old people and smoke. The air smelled of smoke and perfume. Mr. Hatchworth slowly closed the door and walked across the old wood floor to the front desk.
“Excuse me Olga, but has the mail arrived yet?” He asked the receptionist.Olga was an wrinkled old lady imported from Germany, she always wore a look of extensive boredom, and moaned anytime she was asked something.
“OUgh, no I do not tink it as arrived et,” she replied looking angry.
“Okay, thank you,” Mr. Hatchworth said while shuffling away.
“Hey, Mr. Hatchworth, you back so soon,” Ken, a young boy who cleaned the bathrooms, said as Mr. Hatchworth walked by.
“Yep, I had to come back, for Christmas and some mail,” Mr. Hatchworth replied.
Very nice charity, you've get a flare for writing. i wasn't confusing this time
julie your story is very interesting. I like your descriptions. Charity yours is cool too and not so confusing anymore. I like it. Jacob your little tid bit is quite intruging also.
I didn't have any ideas for thomas and the magic valley so I started a new one.
I remember that night like it was yesterday. Rain was tapping against the window. The room was dark, except when the lightning struck, and I was alone. I remember the smell of fire, although, from whence it came, to this day I still am not sure. The thunder pounded outside, sounding very much like a giant stomping through, crushing anything beneath it. I was frightened. As I shivered in my blankets, lightning struck and I remember seeing the silhouette of a man outside my window. I quickly pulled the curtains closed and hid underneath my blanket. A few moments later, I heard the door open and close downstairs. Minutes passed in curiosity and, despite my fears, I went downstairs to investigate.
Minutes passed in curiosity and, despite my fears, I went downstairs to investigate.
Standing in the kitchen, warming themselves in front of the wood stove, was a man and a woman. The man wore a black newsboy cap over his dark hair, which fell over his eyes. His nose was long and pointed and reminded me of a beak. He wore a black coat that went past his knees and muddy black boots. The woman had her blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail and covered by a dark blue beret. On her face was an expression of intense apprehension. Her eyebrows curved downward at the edges and up in the middle, furrowing her brow. Her lips were red, whether from lipstick or from the coldness I am not sure. Her cheeks were rosy from the outside weather, but the rest of her face was white. She wore a knee length coat that matched her hat, and shiny black high-heeled boots. From where I stood at the top of the stairs, they could not see me. But I had a clear view of them and wondered what in the world they were doing there in the middle of the night. I could not see the other side of the room, but soon found out that the three of us were not alone.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Nice descriptions maryann.
Here is a monor setback in our creative novels to make room for some poetry...
the sun beat down like a magma pot,
burning, burning that would never stop, the sky was blue and chissled with clouds, i hears up ahead some thuinderous sounds, i climactically sensed a storm up ahead, and went to burrow down so as not to become dead. THere was no place to hide, no tree a rock, it was obvious now that i appeared locked, locked in a room that was desolate so, with no plants or funiture to comfort my woe,
the storm stuck and i was shattered with drops,
rain poured down like a crime scene to cops,
My head was so soaked and my mind was depressed.
then a fairy came down and offered me rest. I took up her offer and laid down to sleep with the rain and the sun all blurred in a heap,
when i awoke the was no shame to my name, the rain had all vanished, i soon did the same.
Lets have a momment of silence now.
thank you
nice poetry julie. It's a little confusing though.
jacob yours is cool, i like the narration
I like it joacob. Joe I am dissapointed in you very dossapointed, i can understand where your comming from... you just got to believe in yourself and ANYTHING can happen.
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