Brilliant. I’m too tired to come up with a better comment, but I felt I ought to let you know that I thoroughly enjoyed this, and it sounds like the beginning of some awesome series.
This made me chuckle out loud. This is especially fitting, what with this new zombie-fixation in pop culture lately. I wish my cable got the zombie food network…
Sigh. So many times I look at the little kids around my house and feel the same thing (trouble is, I’m only 18, and should still have some imagination). When did we lose our imagination? How come kids can have such vivid ones, but as you get older, it just fades away? I’m so nostalgic now, lol.
At least you took the risk, instead of forever wondering ‘what if?’. Chalk it up to another life experience, grow and learn from it, let it mold you a little. That’s all you can do.
I’m missing you. But it doesn’t change anything. Sorry.
I read this and immediately thought “Twilight”, which then immediately changed the context of the story for me. Not sure if that is what you intended, but it got me thinking in terms of the book. But any way you look at it, it’s a good ficlet. It’s honest and raw, and I like that.
Oh. My. Goodness. This is perhaps the most beautiful thing I’ve read of yours. I love it. I absolutely do. It really feels old and retold a thousand times. And I love the repetition of the actions of between the characters, it really adds something. Sort of like, even though they’re enemies, they all feel the same thing and it ties them together. Beautiful. Bravo!
Oh. My. Goodness. This is perhaps the most beautiful thing I’ve read of yours. I love it. I absolutely do. It really feels old and retold a thousand times. And I love the repetition of the actions of between the characters, it really adds something. Sort of like, even though they’re enemies, they all feel the same thing and it ties them together. Beautiful. Bravo!
Wow, I never thought of that until Mighty-Joe pointed it out… Anyways, I had been expecting the start of some epic series here, with a coded message for saving humanity on the papers or something. But this was funny! Very Hermione-esque.
When I first started this, I thought it might have been from the mother’s POV. I just sensed some motherly-instinctive going on. But I think I like it better being the father taking revenge. All in all a tense, well-portrayed story. I’m really hating this pastor.
Beautiful. I love how compassionate and human you’ve made Death, and I love how you showed his inner struggle and desperation. Especially in the line Oh, why this angel, why this cry, why this night?
One thing in this otherwise through-provoking and deep piece of writing: the first sentence feels like it needs a couple of breaks. Very good point made here though. I think a lot of people ask themselves these questions.
I really liked this. His hope and anxiety for people to get the message. His defeat when they didn’t. It’s very easy to relate to – be you an artist or not – because I think we’ve all been there.
“aluminum alien abomination of apocalyptic alliterations”...Brilliance. The last few lines make me think of a Hulk-ish figure. “GRAAAWR!! KRULLTAR ANGRYYY!”
I like how Death describes people’s souls depending on how much life they have lived. The old woman’s soul was “light and feathery”, while Andre’s in “heavy with days unlived”. I’m really digging how perceptive and introspective you have made Death. It’s very thought-provoking and touching at times.
Clever portrayal of a day in the life of Death (wow, that was ironic). I’m in concurrence with BARomero about the Family Guy version. It just makes in funnier.
Alliteration makes me all giddy inside. And I’m with Stovo in wondering what the heck the plot is anymore. Sweet stuff that I’m in the game now though. I love dancing.
You know, I thought about writing a sequel to my original, but couldn’t quite figure out what to say in it. This…wow…this is pretty much what I was looking for. I actually felt something. Congratulations on that.
Making out, double agents, and guns in churches? Yeah, I’d say it’s pretty corrupt. I like that the lovely Latina woman now has a name. My only critique is that in an earlier ficlet, you had Helena running out into the street, and now the two are back in the cathedral. A minor detail that doesn’t really upset the flow, but it had me a bit confused.
This totally sounds like Kung-Fu Panda. “Skidoosh!” Awesome description of the setup of the prison. I like how the last line almost downplays the reaction of the public, it sounds sort of casual.
Completely hilarious. I just got finished reading most of the following entries, and found myself chuckling quite a bit. I know a lot of these are commonly used, but a few I was surprised to see used by people other than my friends! Now I’m at a loss to know where these originated from.
Yes, a big thank you to penquincaptain18. You bring such wonderful and fresh writing to the site. I know that personally, your ideas and writing have been an inspiration of sorts when I’m stuck with my writing, and I’m sure I’m not alone
Agreed with Ana. Until the end, you can sympathize with the narrator. But there comes a time when you realize that, not only your parents, but all parents tell such lies to their children. But most of the time, is it to give them hope and inspire them to become something. The effort he did not put forth was his own failing, not his parents.
All in all a good read from a very interesting perspective. I do like the dark turn, it’s very real-life.
Love it! Traitorous heart...I like that expression. Perfectly left open for a sequel, too. I’ll have to get to that after IHOP if no one else has by that time. I wonder what is it he wants?
Ah, Krulltar beat me to the bit about Heath Ledger, it reminded me of the same. Apparently, it is possible to get sort of lost in your character. (And Heath was never addicted to heroin, but he was on quite a few prescriptions for the anxiety and insomnia). Anyways, This was a good read. It would be kind of cool to see from his point of view how he started getting stuck “in character” and the things that it did to him.
I didn;t understand what was going on a first, the main character seemed so casual about an intruder. But then I picked up the idea. Very suspenseful, I’m loving it. It would be nice to know everything that went down leading up to this moment.
Excellent. It makes you wonder what is really going on in this facility (i assume a nursing home of some sort). Glad that she decided not to leave him. Nursing homes aren’t so great in my opinion, even if they look like paradise.
A wordless braille, language without meaning. Favorite line. I really liked the way you conveyed how much time has passed by, and the old, yet alive feeling of the building.
Oh yes, that was supposed to be _hi_lighted, not lighted. There must have been some kind of typo or nixing because of character count or something. All fixed now! And I’ve never heard that song before, but I’m going to look it up now. I’m curious.
Amazing that this is the story line you got from the picture. You have a pretty spiffy imagination. And I agree with the others: someone who has more motivation than us should sequel it.
Once again, pens, you manage to blow me away with your writing. I love the feel of this, especially the second paragraph. Perfectly depicted summer moments and thoughts, every phrase precise and meaningful. Absolutely beautiful work. Bravo!
Wow. This definitely hit some emotional chords. Perhaps she did know that the narrator was there for her, but maybe it just wasn’t enough for her. There was just too much for another person to hold together. That’s what I got from this, anyways. Her mother’s tearful sobs attacked me through the receiver. Best line, I think.
I only “stumbled” onto this piece because of your recent ficlet, with the contrary title. Interesting, beautiful, emotional, descriptive…pretty much what we all strive for on this site with each post. Basically, you did a superb job of setting an example for us to follow. I’m pretty grateful that such a beginning, and such a place ever came into existence. Right on, Kev.
It’s 1:23 in the morning, and yes, I did stay up to finish reading this. But it was definitely worth it. My chuckle was steady as a choo-choo throughout. Love it! I’m going to miss these characters. You three ought to get together and collaborate some more, your mental synchronizing was astounding (and quite hilarious). Bravo!
Quicker than Jameson could say, “Don’t tase me, bro!” That reference had me cracking up. Hopefully, Jameson isn’t as big of an ass as that guy. I’m going to have to start reading this series, it looks good.
Ooh, I’m very intrigued. this sort of reminds me of the scene in “Bruce Almighty” when he first meets God in an empty building. Heh, if that’s the case her, this sounds like my kind of God. But in all seriousness, I’m interested to see where this goes. Especially with a warning like the one given previously!
Somehow, I can’t believe I’ve only read 1024 characters. It seems like this says so much more than that. Your descriptions were beautiful, as always, and driving scenes are definitely your thing. I like this line : “Out here between midnight and morning, we are no one and we are everyone.” I love that feeling.
How incredibly true. And you know, you don’t even notice that you don’t notice things most of the time. Like so many other things, approaching death should not be the time when you start to see. Very sad, but very beautiful ficlet.
“I’d bet my foreskin on it.” “Aren’t you a jew?” Brilliance. I found myself having to suppress my laughter in order not to wake the household. Keep it up! I’m eager to see what becomes of the Ficlet community now that it’s every man for himself.
Oh my. I’m definitely going to have to agree with Perkins: you’ve got some cojones, brother. Big ‘uns, for sure, haha. But I doubt she’ll mind. How could you not take this as a compliment? Especially coming from someone fond of leopard print…anything, let alone thongs.
This could make for a wonderful drama, if you intend to keep it going (which I wish you would! We have to see what happens). Anyway, I really like this. You can really feel how torn and hurt she is, whether through her own actions or his, I don’t know.
The title of this piece gave me the impression that perhaps the heartbeats of the different people would be different, but harmonious and synchronized, like an orchestra. But I guess it’s kind of the same thing. I’d like to know how they figure 13 days from the heartbeats. This is a very novel idea. You’ve definitely hooked my interest. Keep going!
I totally agree with everyone. You ought to keep writing something, be it a continuation of this, Edward’s past, or anything. I’ve just recently finished the series for the first time, and I’m suffering the beginnings of the withdrawals. I need more Twilight goodness!
Ha! I didn’t get what was wrong at first, until i reread it a second time. I couldn’t help but to chuckle. I wonder what kind of return policy came with the ring?
Awesome look into the future. You had me thinking it was some desert dune-buggy ride at first. “Only fifty stars.” I thought imperialism had just about ended by the 21st century?
How beautifully tragic that she can no longer recognize her own hands without his. As if they had grown to be so much a part of each other that now, looking at her hands, herself, as being a separate entity, is too strange.
I love how perfectly this poem expresses longing to have someone back. And I love that you addressed the ways in which a person can communicate so much by not saying a word at all, because that, I think, is the main way we communicate ourselves. Bravo.
Far beyond five stars if I could! This was absolutely beautiful. I loved everything about the poem, but especially the second part. I’m not sure I can pick just one fantastically described line in this to be my favorite.
I’ve taken the time to read this series from beginning to end tonight. I must say it was beyond 100 percent worth it, and I loved every minute of it! It’s one of those stories that makes you “in love with love”, so to speak.
How completely let down she must feel after this. To think that her husband was growing in love with her more, and wanting to surprise her with a gift. But it turned out to be for the baby, and not actually her birthday. Which then might mean that her husband is merely in love with his unborn child now, and not any more in love with her than he was.
Thought I’d take a shot at this. Hope you don’t mind! If you do, or if it doesn’t flow with what you guys already have, do feel free to brush it aside and continue what you were doing.
“I am torn asunder by your oblivion.” and “I am set adrift in the sea of your indifference.” are my favorite lines. This was such a heart-wrenching and real description of wanting what you can’t have.
Ah! This is becoming so suspenseful! Such an addictive series. I’d love to join in, but I fear my imagination won’t be able to keep up with yours and kwatz’s.
Wonderful idea. I love how you chose to express emotion through colors. Tell me, is this a series you plan to continue on your own, or is it open to anyone else to continue?
It’s amazing how vividly you described everything, while still sticking to the requirements of the challenge. It really felt like the world was turning an inch a second, and melting into some crazy trip.
A lot of people don’t like their names when they are younger. I think we have to grow into them, like an over sized sweater. Or grow around them in the way trees do to old buildings, until they are a part of us.
I think it’s safe to say this is one of my favorite stories I’ve read on here. I love the nonsensicalness of it. Very creative use of the picture, too.
Why else would I have joined such a site if not for the love of the written word?
I am young, on the razor-thin brink of adulthood, which means I am somewhat inexperienced, immature at times, and completely and hopelessly at a loss for what I want to do with myself.
It is often difficult for me to get around to sitting down and writing something, especially something much beyond 1024 characters, because my thoughts and ideas are so erratic at times that it’s hard to hold them down long enough to pin them to paper. Or computer screen. Or whatever. It’s a shame, because my imagination has the ability to stretch far across the regions of dreaming.
Sometimes, I think I’d be a better painter than a writer, despite the fact that i have never seriously painted in all my life. Must give this a shot one day.
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