tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post3293753040502075326..comments2024-03-18T09:09:59.625-04:00Comments on Janet Reid, Literary Agent: Scariest Writer Writing ContestJanet Reidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615380335938685231noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-84161829264984087842013-10-27T09:53:50.228-04:002013-10-27T09:53:50.228-04:00She stands on the precipice, seduced by the roar o...She stands on the precipice, seduced by the roar of the ocean below.<br />“The sea awaits,” whispers the voice in her head. “Jump,” it says. “Jump now.”<br /> Her toes curl into the jagged rock. She blinks against the shining sun. It glitters like diamonds on the chop. She falters, remembering.<br />She crafted the note, proclaimed her love. He answered with silence.<br />The waves crash, calling to her. “You are beautiful,” they say. “Come to us.”<br />She teeters, arms outstretched. <br />Finally, she leaps, soaring into the watery embrace of her lover below.<br />HungryGalshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10782755182536422905noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-57186148719033127822013-10-27T09:46:55.305-04:002013-10-27T09:46:55.305-04:00A light shining like a beautiful star had appeared... A light shining like a beautiful star had appeared, but faded into oddity. Left in a strange world of pillars and tiny creatures, she'd tried communication. Touching her relay to these beings didn't convey her compassion or love. They evaporated. Frail bodies.<br /><br /> Other creatures came, perhaps drawn by the sounds of these fleeing beings and loudly spitting painfully at her. Terrified, she tried to craft a connection with these. They too dissolved. Even more came.<br /><br /> If she couldn't communicate, she'd surrender and await mercy. A whistling turned her attention skyward. One creature had laid an egg mid-flight. How very odd.D.X.Loganhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16996933856405252188noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-4547692880370610142013-10-27T09:39:36.962-04:002013-10-27T09:39:36.962-04:00
Her pregnancy test proved negative once again, li...<br />Her pregnancy test proved negative once again, like all the others. Marcy had failed enough.<br /><br />After recess, she awaited her shining first-graders. Their stubby fingers fumbled with animal crackers and glued noodle crafts. Nap time was coming up.<br /><br />Several confused students helped her stack metal desks to barricade the door, and she locked the windows. Bless their little hearts. They loved their favorite teacher, but none were truly hers. And never could be.<br /><br />At lights-off, Marcy opened her lunch thermos. She peppered the walls with gasoline, and hummed the class into a deep, beautiful slumber. Quiet as angels.<br />SciFrachttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12910585583447737151noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-18053320925054594602013-10-27T09:38:32.890-04:002013-10-27T09:38:32.890-04:00Just Two
He was reluctant. He loved her, of cour...Just Two<br /><br /><br />He was reluctant. He loved her, of course. Would die for her, kill for her. But make their duo a trio? That song was uncertain. <br /> Nights, he’d stare at the sky--a million shining questions--thinking.<br /> Months passed. He crafted reasons. She, so beautiful, dispelled them.<br />Finally, he acquiesced. Watched her shape change. Watched the moon change shape, too.<br />Then, it was time. He held her. She screamed. And what followed was a silence so severe he trembled.<br />The long-awaited babe was here. She wasn’t.<br />Not a trio.<br />Him. And the boy.<br />Just two.KONOhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10987731194692666783noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-2713985054556388752013-10-27T09:30:24.109-04:002013-10-27T09:30:24.109-04:00“What did you think this was?”
He looked away. “L...“What did you think this was?”<br /><br />He looked away. “Love.”<br /><br />She knew his eyes were shining with tears. She laughed; this was the moment she had crafted for years. <br /><br />“You don’t remember me?”<br /><br />He blinked and looked up, awaiting an explanation. He struggled against the handcuffs.<br /><br />“Remember?”<br /><br />She pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her burnt and charred stomach branded with his mark. <br /><br />His eyes bulged.<br /><br />“Please.” <br /><br />He couldn’t even find emotion to put in the word.<br /><br />“You destroyed me. I used to be beautiful.”<br /><br />“I’m sorr—“. The first blow shut him up. The next would forever.<br />Prosecutor's Discretionhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16052776388565362412noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-18526631140227357362013-10-27T09:29:16.825-04:002013-10-27T09:29:16.825-04:00It was like a dream, something I’d only fantasized...It was like a dream, something I’d only fantasized about. All those lonely nights, awaiting the chance to tell her how I felt. And now here I was, her beautiful naked form arched beneath me. Before I could pinch myself, I smiled and guided my love craft into her harbor. And in that singular moment of bliss, she opened her mouth. Out came not moans of pleasure, but the roar of a honking truck. Her eyes were shining like headlights, blinding my world. More effective than a pinch, I awoke from my daydream and welcomed the crash. No brakes needed.Steve Fortihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00600586774875484954noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-41607854948596661522013-10-27T09:06:16.605-04:002013-10-27T09:06:16.605-04:00Hey, love! How’s the conference? I miss you too. H...Hey, love! How’s the conference? I miss you too. Hold on. Midnight’s outside yowling. I thought I put him downstairs. <br /><br />So we’re discussing Craft’s account—beautiful. Now he’s doing that human-sounding yowl so you can’t ignore him. I don’t know. How does any cat get out? <br /><br />So Carl’s shining his laser at the board—ugh. He’s getting louder. He’ll wake the Mortinelli’s baby. I’m awaiting <i>that</i> phone call eagerly. Holy smokes, it’s cold outside. Here, Midnight! Snaaaacks! <br /><br />I don’t see him. He must be hiding. I gotta go get the beast. Be right back.<br /> <br />Hee-eere, Midnight! Here, kitty, kitty, kit--<br />Heidihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17237687110595005423noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-30079693293254299342013-10-27T04:53:02.080-04:002013-10-27T04:53:02.080-04:00Sorry if this is a double post. It didn't look...Sorry if this is a double post. It didn't look like my first comment took. If I see it twice I'll remove one. <br /><br />---------------------------------<br />Witch<b>craft</b> is a <b>beautiful</b> thing, however <b>await</b>ing the witching hour is often a labor of <b>love</b>; the interminable pause before you see the moon <b>shining</b> bright in the midnight sky. <br /><br />I look up. The time is close at hand. A thin wisp of cloud obscures the disk hanging in the blackness. My gaze returns to the circle in front of me. Carefully gathered stones glimmer in intricate patterns. <br /><br />Silver light floods the clearing. I cross the threshold, my white gown trailing over the rocks, an ancient dagger in each hand. <br /><br />It's time. My blood will unleash eternal darkness.Phoenixwallerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00896928536500926320noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-26397400523166547662013-10-27T04:26:46.306-04:002013-10-27T04:26:46.306-04:00"It's beautiful." Sunlight shining o..."It's beautiful." Sunlight shining on the water creates dazzling flashes. I shiver as we climb higher on the gridiron almost at the top. We plan to watch the bridge rise above us by jumping backwards, free falling into forever. Traffic is stopped, people are watching. The view from the top is amazing. You lean over and warm me with a last kiss to my cold lips. "I love you, never forget that." It's our last sacrifice to our craft. Even as you grab my hand and squeeze, I await your words, "On the count of three."Crystal R, Martinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06962253520060692561noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-56520897084098334442013-10-27T04:24:35.230-04:002013-10-27T04:24:35.230-04:00[This is the same story I submitted earlier, with ...[This is the same story I submitted earlier, with a small correction. I've deleted my previous entry.]<br /><br />- - -<br /><br /><br />The door was too beautiful. That was the first thing I noticed. Tall, exquisitely crafted, shining with false promises – hope, love, new dawns – as each of us awaited punishment. My turn soon. <br /><br />A man in uniform holding a clipboard approached, pointed his pen at me, and said, “You.” I followed. But he halted beside the engraved silver door so abruptly that I plowed into him. Hard. Enough to knock him over, push him through, slam shut and turn the pretty carved handle.<br /><br />I moved towards freedom. But the silver door had no handle anymore. Not from this side. <br /><br /><br />- - -<br /><br />bonnieshaljean (a) hotmail . com<br />Bonnie Shaljeanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13067442140631504611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-66476772289488931802013-10-27T04:17:07.401-04:002013-10-27T04:17:07.401-04:00Upper East Side apartments, after dark.
Lovely i...Upper East Side apartments, after dark. <br /><br />Lovely inky blackness down here, under stairs that lead from the building’s foyer down into an unlit courtyard. I await her now, a sharkly woman whose fate is mine. She’ll bring down her garbage, unaware of what’s coming. The beautiful bliss she’s had tormenting writers, how can I thank her?<br /><br />Years spent crafting tonight’s assault, days spent plotting, hours waiting. <br />Footsteps on concrete like seconds ticking on a clock.<br /><br />A knife-shaped query shining in my hand. <br /><br />Her words have cut me deep. Bled me dry. Quid pro quo. <br />Josh Johnstunhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15396609127110611210noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-56336861267273959902013-10-27T01:50:59.997-04:002013-10-27T01:50:59.997-04:00She’d been doing it for some time: Await her husba...She’d been doing it for some time: Await her husband’s regular breathing as his head rest upon the pillow. Then prick the back of his neck with a needle. <br /><br />Not hard, of course. Just…enough. Enough to make him stir. Enough to force his beautiful lips into a purse of pained surprise. Enough to make him notice her, even if subconsciously. <br /><br />She spooned against him, palming the slim, shining blade she’d crafted with time, pressure, and wedding gift cookware. Tonight he’d finally know just how much she loved him.<br />Kathy Valentihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17260301193300449184noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-56571690969391223102013-10-27T01:28:06.920-04:002013-10-27T01:28:06.920-04:00The craftsman of Shining Mountain awaited Beautifu...The craftsman of Shining Mountain awaited Beautiful’s return. Last night she chased a scent into the woods and never returned.<br /><br />As the sun rose, his feet blistered from the miles he trudged; his parched lips now only capable of a whisper. “Beautiful, I tried. I’m going home to rest.”<br /><br />Hours later, scratching lured him to the door. When he opened it, Beautiful was wagging her tail. A dead child lay beside her. <br /><br />In the cellar, he dumped the body into a barrel of gin. “Cheers, Love,” he said, then shut the lid. Another child saved.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01403714167201265834noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-25546420720366631632013-10-27T01:23:18.423-04:002013-10-27T01:23:18.423-04:00Moonlight crept through the windows, illuminating ...Moonlight crept through the windows, illuminating the nightmarish yet beautiful creature as it fed from my father’s corpse.<br /><br />I crouched in the corner, frozen.<br />As I awaited my turn, there was no fear, only acceptance. <br /><br />I opened my eyes, with no memory of having closed them. I turned from lights shining down on me. <br /><br />“It’s okay, love, you’re safe now.” <br /><br />I tried to warn my rescuer but was unable to speak. I spotted the creature smiling at me, as blood dripped down its face. <br /><br />“No, Miss Craftwell. Don’t!” the man shouted as I plunged the knife into my chest.<br />HollyD.https://www.blogger.com/profile/17008661025089698378noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-69544815984567179662013-10-27T01:17:46.531-04:002013-10-27T01:17:46.531-04:00“She’s beautiful. Quintessential “Brides of Dracu...“She’s beautiful. Quintessential “Brides of Dracula.” But what happened to her wrists?”<br /><br />“Suicide by box cutter.” <br /> <br />“Heightened realism. Love it. What’s the story with “An American Werewolf in London” over there?”<br /><br />“Brain aneurysm.” <br /><br />“And “The Shining” twins?” <br /> <br />“Drunk driving accident. Entire family annihilated.” <br /><br />“Their dresses. Just like in the movie.”<br /><br />“I sewed them myself.”<br /><br />“Aren’t you the craftsman. Don’t you feel a little strange, though? Using real people.”<br /><br />“I’m returning them first thing tomorrow morning. He’ll be none the wiser.”<br /><br />“Being the son of a mortician has its perks after all. Especially on Halloween.”<br /><br />“Hey, it’s time. Our customers await.” <br />Calorie Bombshellhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18039655088542854847noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-30014383247309756882013-10-27T01:02:04.839-04:002013-10-27T01:02:04.839-04:00I couldn't delete my previous entry, but I'...I couldn't delete my previous entry, but I'd rather you count this slightly revised version. Thanks. <br /><br /><br />“I await your command.”<br /><br />I hear the words and the voice is mine but the words are not mine. My words scream “no” and “help” and “please.” My words die in silence.<br /><br />“Your presence lights my path.”<br /><br />His shining eyes come closer, and they shine like flames that burn without warmth and I run but I do not move and I cannot breathe. <br /><br />“Your love will set me free.”<br /><br />My fingers yearn to stroke his beautiful face, his bones and lips and brow, all crafted to beguile, and I am lost and I cannot cry.<br /><br />He touches me <br /><br />I obey.<br />Cindy Chttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13196306055833459983noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-36845906032728511842013-10-27T00:47:48.580-04:002013-10-27T00:47:48.580-04:00Stuffed inside the crevice under the closet, the l...Stuffed inside the crevice under the closet, the little boy strangled a sob and begged the universe to help him remember something beautiful. <br /><br />“I love you,” he whispered as his younger sister’s reed-thin frame shuddered against his chest. <br /><br />He shielded her eyes with a dirt-stained hand as if he could protect her from the shining light that cracked through the thin, wooden planks that held them prisoner.<br /><br />“I’m done playing Minecraft,” the postman said in a whiny, expectant voice. “I await you, my loves.”<br /><br />The boy dislodged the razor blade carefully hidden under his tongue and prepared for battle.<br />Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14527345676996017558noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-7595578273677015882013-10-27T00:44:14.720-04:002013-10-27T00:44:14.720-04:00Tongues wagged as the newlyweds left the courthous...<br />Tongues wagged as the newlyweds left the courthouse. <br /><br />"That old fool. He must have thirty years on her." <br /><br />"Forty. She's nineteen. Grew up in the County Home after the big fire." <br /><br />"So beautiful. So much love shining in her eyes." <br /><br />"Stacked to the rafters, and them legs go right on up to her neck." <br /><br />"Damn, what a honeymoon awaits him. Bet he wants to get started." <br /><br />They were wrong. The groom could wait. His exquisite bride was totally alone. Always meticulous about his craft, he would go slowly. The taxidermist had waited a lifetime for the perfect trophy wife. <br />Terri Lynn Coophttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07290316565247120848noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-89275623632478080642013-10-27T00:14:13.378-04:002013-10-27T00:14:13.378-04:00He's beautiful, like barbed wire twisted aroun...He's beautiful, like barbed wire twisted around a tree trunk. I whisper my secret to my pillow, and write my whisper on a note I stick in his locker. I hear what I want him to say.<br /><br />We craft a future of trips to Europe, a boy named Aidan and a girl named Lilac. The camera's blinking red light means it's love.<br /><br />The shining light of the monitor as I watch myself on the Internet. Whiskey pressed with water, I await the effects of the pills.Davehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12864927708291814357noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-22227244800500649162013-10-27T00:06:36.133-04:002013-10-27T00:06:36.133-04:00Desperation ain’t beautiful. But who don’t love a ...Desperation ain’t beautiful. But who don’t love a problem to fix?<br /><br />She pounds on my door. Her boyfriend’s ten minutes behind, she says. There’s barely time for introductions before he shows, headlights shining through my window. I craft some bullshit to get rid of him. <br /><br />Watch yourself, he says. You’ll become the next “boyfriend.” He turns and I see the blood.<br /><br />No sooner he’s gone, she’s counting the cash from my bureau. Take it, I say. <br /><br />Too easy, she says. Where’s the fun?<br /> <br />I wanted to help, I say.<br /><br />Her cackle sends chills. She tells me my reward awaits me.<br />Jared Xhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14717555776469970002noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-35746642524095446042013-10-26T23:50:25.917-04:002013-10-26T23:50:25.917-04:00Lisa loved Halloween. It was the most beautiful t...Lisa loved Halloween. It was the most beautiful time of year, and she always impatiently awaited its arrival. Stories of witchcraft and poltergeists made her hair stand on end; changing leaves warmed her soul. This year was different. She had a secret.<br /><br /> She sat outside, shining her witch shoes, waiting for Markus.<br /><br /> “Markus!” She ran to her husband and grabbed his hand. “I have something to tell you.” She led him inside, motioning for him to sit. <br /><br /> “Lisa?”<br /><br /> “The leaves aren’t the only things changing.” <br /><br /> Silence. <br /> <br /> “We’re having a baby.”<br /> <br /> And that year, Halloween really was the best day.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04211116766535162643noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-77307429651638215512013-10-26T23:20:35.220-04:002013-10-26T23:20:35.220-04:00Being second graders, Rick's hands were the sa...Being second graders, Rick's hands were the same size as Ruthie's, but that didn't matter while he choked her in the dirt. <br /><br />Every Monday morning recess, she would await his attack under the beautiful maple tree. She had to fight back or face her own weakness shinning in his conflicted glare. <br /><br />She coughed and Rick loosened his grip. She would ask the question she’d taken hours to craft. <br /><br />“Is it ‘cause you hate me?” <br /><br />He touched where her arm bled after scraping against an exposed tree root. <br /><br />“We hurt what we love, Ruthie. I do it so you stay away.” <br />Vanessahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13572996870672041547noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-55050279474569388552013-10-26T23:18:51.615-04:002013-10-26T23:18:51.615-04:00She was beautiful, of course. Bare shoulders shini...She was beautiful, of course. Bare shoulders shining in the streetlights, slick hair snaking down her back. But she couldn't help putting it right there on her little red car: "Love me, love my craft!"<br /><br />Ha ha.<br /><br />Too arrogant, never dreamed someone might await her in the shadows when she returned with her pretty boy prey in tow. Too slow, when I sink the knife in before she can cast her curse.<br /><br />Her idiot target screams and runs without a word of thanks. I move quickly, grabbing her keys, lifting her cooling body into her trunk...<br /><br />...next to a bag of yarn. A pair of knitting needles sticks out the top.<br /><br />Oh dear.Sarahhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03029615886562584784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-10383723116343327312013-10-26T22:55:28.443-04:002013-10-26T22:55:28.443-04:00“You look beautiful,” she said, her face shining. ...“You look beautiful,” she said, her face shining. She held my hand as we awaited the car, but as usual her love was followed by the proverbial rug being pulled out from under me. <br /><br />“I wish you’d crafted something a little more...”appropriate” to wear, you know it’s an important day.” Right on schedule. The car turned the corner and she tugged at me to start down the stairs. Her foot tangled in my skirt and she tumbled headfirst into the road. Tires screeched, and then there was a thump.<br /><br />What did she know? Black was appropriate, after all.Sarihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01405029949093739126noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-60756206363829438902013-10-26T22:52:58.250-04:002013-10-26T22:52:58.250-04:00I thrashed, my misery evident. "As I await et...I thrashed, my misery evident. "As I await eternal sleep, Doctor, what else must I do?"<br /><br />"Rest, beautiful one, for dawn shall soon be shining. The potion I've crafted should ease the pain," he murmured.<br /><br />"Love," he said, as the shuddering began, "once again has stolen death; and death, love."<br /><br />And my soul released.Jeannehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02206342024283098691noreply@blogger.com