Sentence Starter #7 (200 words)

[VerseD]

I miss Doctor Setebos' flash fiction challenges, the last of which is a month old. In lieu of that, here's some freestyle work for whoever wants to play. I write the first sentence, you write 200 or so words that follow about whatever you want. As Setebos says, "It's just flash fiction. Make it interesting. Make it compelling. Make it yours."

A man and a woman entered a room.

[Doctor Setebos]

I miss Doctor Setebos' flash fiction challenges, the last of which is a month old. In lieu of that, here's some freestyle work for whoever wants to play. I write the first sentence, you write 200 or so words that follow about whatever you want. As Setebos says, "It's just flash fiction. Make it interesting. Make it compelling. Make it yours."Aw, I feel loved. :D

We held off in November while (nearly) everyone was busy with NaNoWriMo. I gave everyone a couple weeks after that to take a bit of a breather, and then, well, I've been busy and just haven't thought about it. I was planning to start fresh after the first of the year.

That said, I have no problem with someone else taking over for a while if they feel the itch to write. Let's go ahead and make this the official Sentence Starter #7. No reason not to.

I'll post a contribution later today.

[Lint of Death]

I had fun posting in #6 anyway, before I realized how old the thread was. Going on vacation soon so I can't contribute to this one yet :p

[Hellbug]

A man and a woman entered a room. They were in love at the threshold. If emotions made a sound there would have been a gunshot as the light switch was flipped. The feelings of love disappeared in that moment in both of them just as they realized their folly of feelings. Every time this simple entrance was made in the past it was full of passion that would leave them in a darkened room together in a full embrace. This time there was none of that. They stood at the entrance of the hotel room and the man scratched his head and sighed.

“I am sorry, but I don’t think this is right anymore.” The man did not know what had changed within himself but saw that something within him had disappeared. He no longer needed this outlet and needed to return to his family. “We should not see each other anymore.”

Even with several drinks downed by both of them, the woman recognized that this had nothing to do with their intoxication because there was none. The man brushed the blond hair from the woman’s cheek and kissed it softly. He backed away from her and out of the room and let the door shut behind him. She did not feel the tears fall and mingle with the lingering feeling of the man’s kiss. She felt nothing.

[Kojak]

God dammit, its over the word limit but I can't help it. This is the first thing I have written since primary school so improvement is needed. Feel free to be as brutally honest as you like. I already feel I'm at the bottom so any criticism is only going to make me better (hopefully).


A man and a woman entered a room. It was the small home studio of their next door neighbor and friend Karen. Both the man and woman had been in that room only a few seconds ago but retreated when Andrew had accidentally dropped something. Now the room was no longer a home studio. It was a room of fear and anguish.

Karen was still standing next to what only moments ago had been a terrific work of art. The clay statue that had once stood before them now lay smashed on the ground. Small pieces of it were strewn across the floor. It was the most horrific site that Andrew had ever witnessed in his entire life. Somewhere behind him he heard his wife screaming in terror.

The statue had been for their daughters funeral. She went missing nearly two years ago. The concept of having a funeral for his own daughter was tearing him apart. He hadn’t given up on her yet, not completely anyway. This funeral was for his wife’s sake. His wife who sat up late at night, staring out of the window. He suspected that she was staying up for their daughter, hoping to see her walk up the driveway to greet them both hello and share what happened at school. She never came. It was time to give his wife closure.

Karen was an old friend of theirs and had agreed make something special for the funeral. A life like sculpture of their daughter. Karen knew them well enough and promised that she would not let them down. All of their daughters beauty would be captured in this sculpture.

Andrew's legs gave up from under him, falling to his knees. The debris on the floor seemed to bite at him as he crashed to the ground. The statue had caught their daughters image so well and faithfully that he was almost sickened by it. There in front of him had been his daughter.

Now the stature was nothing more than rotted chunks of clay. While trying to move it Andrew had slipped causing the sculpture to fall, erupting into a sea of clay when it hit the ground. Karen let out a disappointed sigh.

Andrew did not notice. His mind was too far gone to notice. Even his wifes shrill screams did not reach his deaf mind. All he could see was her. His daughter. What was left of her.

Amongst the clay debris, was the corpse of his daughter. Horribly decomposed and impacted with clay but undeniably his daughter.
'Such a shame' Karen said with slight disappointment in her voice. 'It was so beautiful'

[Khrymsyn]

Kojak, the word limit is a "guideline" to form your ideas and prose around. If you go over I don't think anyone's going to take your head off over it. The more you do these, the easier it gets trying to fit words and stories together within the guidelines.
Very twisted story BTW. Very dark. I always have a hard time making things quite that dark.


Here's my 200 :
A man and a woman entered a room. They were not remarkable, nor was the room. They wore plain clothes, faces worn in with a plain, almost absent expression, and walked to the center of the room with its plainly painted taupe walls. Neither old, nor young, neither fat, nor skinny, the man and woman held hands and knelt down, raising their faces to the sky.

What was remarkable was any movement within this building at all. A week ago, warning klaxons went off, and the sky was filled with a blindingly bright light. Not the light of love, or faith, or hope, but the light of fire, brimstone, hatred and cruelty. Somehow, Mark and Danita were alive. They knew not how, nor why, but only that they could still feel wind on their face, and ground under their feet. The fact that they could still draw breath was an unexplainable scientific anomaly.

They didn’t care. As they knelt, the first signs of an emotion since the scorching flames occurred. Mark’s eyes teared as he began to cry, his mind finally recovering from the shock of still being alive, to the horror of knowing they may be the only ones.

[roboninja]

Karak, the word limit is a "guideline" to form your ideas and prose around.

Karak? I think you meant Kojak :p

Might make an entry after lunch.

[Khrymsyn]

Karak? I think you meant Kojak :p
Might make an entry after lunch.

What? huh? looks right to me?

thanks robo =) haha

[pronounconnoun]

For constructive criticism, do I private message the writer? Or is there a separate thread where we can give them the good stuff?

[Doctor Setebos]

For constructive criticism, do I private message the writer? Or is there a separate thread where we can give them the good stuff?We kind of have an unspoken rule where we generally publicly accept constructive criticism. If a writer doesn't want critiques posted publicly, they can opt out by telling people to PM comments.

[Thanasimos]

A man and a woman entered a room. Maybe that’s not so uncommon. But the way they went in might have deviated from the norm. First off, they were both walking fast like they were late for something. And the way the carried themselves was so stiff that Barbie and Ken would have been proud. Even stranger, though, was the order: usually, the man will maneuver to the front and open the door to hold it for whatever woman he is with, but when this man and woman went in the man opened the door and ducked through, followed by the woman. Adding to that, the woman didn't wait for him to clear the doorway before she had her hand on the jam and pulled herself through. So that’s how this man and woman entered a room – just a touch odd. They must have been quite close, to move so well together, so it was even stranger when they immediately headed for opposing walls.

Needless to say, every red flag the teller could summon was draped over that man and woman. Sure enough, that man and woman brought guns. Bang.

[pronounconnoun]

A man and a woman entered a room. They had both forgotten each others name and often referred to one another by pronouns. But that didn't matter since it was a one night stand and the less emotional attachments the better.

They awkwardly walked to the bed and began to remove their clothes starting with their shoes and socks and moving on to the larger articles until they sat next to each other only wearing their underwear. They stood in front of each other, inspecting their bodies. She looked at his love handles and the trail of hair that disappeared into the elastic of his underpants. He looked at her appendix scar and the freckles that covered her entire body. Neither of them felt that the other was unattractive; the excitement fueled their desires for one another.

They crawled into bed; first her, then him on top of her. He began to kiss her, but she tightened her lips; to him it felt that he was kissing her teeth, an unattractive thought that caused him to shrink back. “Sorry,” she said. “Just a little nervous.” She pulled him forward and kissed him deeply and the awkward sensations that they both felt melted away.

They both thought of this as a pleasant experience, one that in any other circumstance could have turned into something more. The man suddenly became overwhelmed by the fear of not knowing the woman’s name. “What if during sex she said, ‘Say my name?” he thought. “Then what would I say?” The louder her exhales became the more nervous he felt. “What if we run into each other and I can’t remember her name?” He struggled with the thought of having anonymous sex and couldn’t reconcile it in his mind. The anxiety was too great.

She began to remove her bra and threw it away as if she were in a striptease. Normally he would be at the peak of his excitement, but at that moment all of his blood was redirected to his over analytical brain. “I can’t do this,” he said. He collected his clothes and exited.

The woman sat there and examined the size of her breasts and her hips and the excess skin on her sides. She cringed and was to the point of tears. She covered every portion of her body and curled up with her face in the pillow. Nameless and alone.

[TheFlyingOrc]

They have hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot sex.

[Hellbug]

They have hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot hot sex.

5/5 stars. Bravo!

[alienmastermind]

"A man and a woman entered a room." Clotho said, staring at the screen.

In the past eight and a half hours, keeping an eye on the hallway in the Themis Hotel seemed to be the most tedious thing in the world to Lachesis, but the way Clothos continued to note all the comings and goings of the patrons made this job almost unbearable. Measure and cut, weaving lives, all of that nonsense about keeping balance was just an easier way of explaining why the Moirae killed people, and Clothos was created to observe and keep watch.

Their room was encroached by monitors, high definition screens of every conceivable angle of the Themis Hotel, showing all of the people who came and went each day, each week, each year. All of the men, women, and children were nothing but targets. Each a silver thread winding into the grand tapestry of life, each a target for the shears of Atropos.

Once a target was identified, Lachesis made the executive decision to draw the lot or let the person continue spinning their lives. Long and short, Lachesis knew the exact moment of each person's ending.

The room grew colder.

"Sister, you've arrived early." Clotho said. Clotho's voice was flat, reedy, like a cough in an empty room. Nothing Clotho said was interesting. Lachesis was the only one with a voice, a muse, a way of speaking that Man could appreciate.

If they could hear her. But, now Atropos stood with them, her robes black ash flowing around her marble skin. Her eyes were silver discs, permanently marked with the fare for Charon, and under those robes, a pair of chrome shears that could sever air.

"Lachesis called me, Sister." Atropos said, "The man and woman are about to make love, and begin a new thread. A thread that must be cut before its beginning."

The words fill the air with portents of potential sadness. Lachesis swallowed, knowing that it is neither the man nor the woman who will be severed tonight. It is Lachesis' to know and measure. It is Clotho to identify.

It is Atropos' to sever.

"It may have been a great man or woman. It is not mine to judge." Atropos said. "It is yours--"

"THIS I KNOW, Sister." Lachesis said, and could feel the anger rising. Omniscience was useless if you couldn't act on what you know. Because each thing Lachesis could do to prevent this unturning, would create thousands of other possibilities for casting out that would be equally unjust. Knowledge that paralyzed. Knowing and powerless to affect the outcome. Even Hades could not conceive of such a torment for his lost souls. Zeus created the Sisters as the final control for his creation. Zeus' time was over, and now the One God Who Is Three ruled the world. But still, the Sisters worked, and Lachesis sat knowing all of this, miserable.

"I know, Atropos. You tell me every time. You tell me every time the shears must come out. What is this obsession of yours of reminding me that severing these lives is unfair? That my choices are somehow wicked?"

"You and I Lachesis, we act as we must. In all of these years Sister, I say what must be said to you, to keep you acting in the best interest of the Pattern. Clotho watches, Lachesis measures, Atropos cuts. Even in these days, where the light is created by bottled lightning instead of torches, our divine roles must be carried out."

"Of course. I know." Lachesis said. "I always know."

A man and woman entered a room. And in another room, the Sisters intended to make sure a man and a woman exited the room.

And no one else.

[astranoir]

@alienmastermind I really like your take on the sentence starter :)

[bean]

alienmastermind - That was enthralling and worthy of publish. It is as good or better than most of the stories I've read in collections of short short fiction.

[alienmastermind]

Hey, thanks. Check out the thread about needing an ending. It's me trying my hand at 'Lovecraftian' horror.

[bean]

Hey, thanks. Check out the thread about needing an ending. It's me trying my hand at 'Lovecraftian' horror.

I've read it, but I've also decided that I'm no longer giving feedback to people who don't return the favor. Because they are assholes.

Asshole.

[alienmastermind]

Wait what?

[bean]

I was joking. :)

[Hotcod]

So i felt like giving this a go, i had fun reading every one else's and felt a little inspired. Most of you will know me for my poor writing skills in forum posts so it might seem a bit odd that i do in fact like to write. The truth is that i like to tell stories and i do have a talent for words at times... but there's a reason i prefer writing lyrics over stories and that is that i'm not all that happy with the mechanic of writing.

So what does that mean? well firstly this is a first draft and secondly if this was something i planed to submit anywhere other than a forum i would likely grab a friend who can write well to at most co author something based on it or at lest heavily edit it and clean it up in structure. In this case i feel the narrative mode is all over the damned place... mainly because i wasn't sure where i was really going with the thing. In terms of the story i hope it's not too derivative... the "cult" stuff would need some major reworking in this case.

That said i hope you enjoy it and feed back and comment are welcome. Well other than pointing out i can't spell or i got words wrong... spell checking can only do so much for me :D

I also went overboard, i wanted to have it be short but once i started writing i had to finish it up.

A man and women enter a room with quick quite steps masked by leafs tussling in the wind out side the window. Dressed in an odd mix of dark greys there outlines where broken in the dark half shadows cast by the falling moon making them skip and flow across the room, near imposable to see unless you knew they where there. The canopied bed rested at the end of the long room bright skills drawn against the slight warm breeze from the arches of open balconies that ran along it's three sides, where the sleeping platform expanded outwards overlooking the gardens and the city.

The figures stop dead at the edges of the room proper pressing backs against flanking walls. The man slowly looks outwards studding the balconies. Hands moving quickly he marks the two guards hidden from the rooms on either the balconies for his counter part. There was no way to bed with out being seen and the alarm being raised. There where powers here they did not want to face. Nodding the women drew a small blade from the many at her belt and readied her self. The darkness seemed to pull in around her as she closed her eyes and the world stopped time balanced on a knifes edge.

Time snapped as she opened her eyes, stepping backwards she vanishes in to the darkens with nothing but an in rush of air. The man starts forward towards the bed as shadows explode in silences next to the first guard the women stepping out. Passing with a cut cut throat back in to the darkness she steps through to the second guard killing him before the first hits the floor. The man reaches the bed knowing they have little time, the ripples of what they had just done would not take long to reach those who could snuff them out with out a thought.

Cutting down the silks with the draw of his slender sword he finds his mark the final truth of what he had agreed to do unfolding in front of him and his eyes grew wide. The target was always hidden from those who where to end it and forgotten after. It was the way of the cult, it is enough to live knowing you have killed until your time was done. To prevent stuffing and worse, enjoyment, that would compromise those born to this life. But this, this he could never do. A stunningly beautiful women lay on the bed but he ignored her for the small bundle of cloth she cradled around. “A child?” He asked him self “A baby?” The women on the bed looked up and screamed.

The other assassin was running to his side noticing his hesitation as he turned. The look in her eyes was hard and unflinching as they passed over the child and he knew she would not stop, would not hesitate. His grip tighten on his sword and he shouted to her.

“This will not happen!” She said nothing but drew her own sword in reply. He jumped forward sticking first and fast but she had expected it and jump aside. She was around him and almost to the bed before he could turn, she was good, she always had been. He knew that they had killed before, likely innocent people who had the bad luck to be caught up in the affairs of those who had the power to call on the cults services, yet this was wrong. The cult would never agree to kill a child let alone a bade or so he had thought. It was against the covenant. To risk the ire of a God meant something big was at stake something more at play than he was used to. And with that he knew why he had been sent. More he knew why she was sent. He had seen her as she before she was about to make a kill and he knew if he could remember those moment he would see a look of joy and pleasure on her face. He had been sent to die, she had always been better than him.

He shadow stepped forward and appeared in front of her and slashed out under her guard. His sword cut through turbulent air where he stomach should have been. He had caught her off guard but she was quick, he stepped after her. They fought in a series of frantic jumps across the platform and around the terrified women. Shadows exploding and cut as they battled in a dance near imposable to follow. A pain shot out in his shoulder, he last step had been to slow and she had caught him. Spinning around almost falling as he fell out from the shadows at the edge of the balcony looking over the city he raised his sword just in time. She stepped out of the dark in front of him sword already arcing down batting his own and sending it from his grip.

“I was always better than you” she said looking at him. Plunging forward she ran him through the chest saying only “goodbye” as she kicked him from the ledge. He saw her step back in shadows towards the bed and he hoped only that he had done enough. He knew she would beat him but time, if only he had held her for enough time there was a chance she could be stopped.

He could feel the ground rushing up behind him as his vision faded towards black. He last thoughts where of the flashing light above and hope.

[Generation ABXY]

I was joking. :)

Oh, good. I was lost, too, but I just assumed it was something between the two of you. :D