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3/29/12
Title: Clash of the Clichés
Marissa typed furiously on her laptop, determined to make
the scene really pop. She had deleted and re-written the same scene so many
times, it was like Groundhog Day in the bedroom of her book.
She tried picturing the scene in her head like a movie. She
tried reading the scene out loud. She even tried posing herself in her own bed
to see if the positions she was describing were even possible (they were).
Yet, Marissa was at a loss.
With a frustrated sigh, she pushed her computer away from
her and turned on the TV. She flipped through several channels before giving up
and shutting the TV off again.
Opening her laptop back up, she queued up the scene and read
aloud.
“Lindsey, the innocent and virginal blushing bride,
trembled before her new husband nervous and unsure. Her husband wasn’t nearly
as shy or nervous. He waltzed brazenly around their chamber, as nude as the day
he was born. His manly sword stood out and swung in all its glory as he moved.
She couldn’t keep her eyes away from it. Oh yeah, it was
that big. Lindsey wasn’t sure exactly where Harold had planned on putting it;
at least not where she thought it was supposed to go.”
“Ugh! Curse you
clichés!” Marissa yelled, deleting not only the section but the entire story.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for bodice rippers. Time to try science fiction.”
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5/31/12
Title: Broken Promises
(#WIP500)
The maelstrom was deafening. Alana huddled in her living
room and watched in horror as the black apparitions swirled around the house.
As much as she hoped David would return soon, she was worried what would happen
to him if he tried to get through what had surrounded her house.
The howling became louder as the house began to creak, the
high-pitched noises of straining wood pierced through everything else.
Alana nervously looked at the door and window frames where
the Ward family seal was engraved. David promised her that the destroyers
couldn’t get past the seal. It certainly seemed like the destroyers were trying
their best to prove him wrong.
She clutched her and her grandmother’s pendants as she
backed up against the wall farthest from the windows. The shrieks coming from
the wood became snaps. Hairline cracks started to form along the window frames.
Suddenly, the noise stopped and the room was still. In
disbelief, Alana pushed away from the wall and took a tentative step towards
the windows. Surely the destroyers hadn’t given up so quickly.
Alana was blown back against the wall as the destroyers
rebounded. The windows shattered, pelting her with shards of glass. The protective family seals were pulverized.
She heard maniacal laughter as crushed brown fragments blew
away on the breeze and the apparitions rushed inside.
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6/7/12
Title: The Final Countdown
(#WIP500)
They raced towards the town hall, the wind whipping along at
their feet and blowing debris into their faces. Alana and David didn’t know
what to expect once they got there, only that it would be the final
confrontation. They had prepared all they could for this moment, now it was
time to see if it was enough.
Before they stepped across the threshold that was littered
with broken glass, David grabbed Alana’s hand and pulled her gently towards
him.
“No matter what happens, you know I love you, right?”
Alana’s face softened and she cupped his face with her free
hand. “I know. Let’s get this over with, okay? Before the destroyers decimate
any more of the town?”
She squeezed his hand before letting go and carefully
stepping over the bits of glass and wood strewn across the ground.
As soon as they were in the building, it was like they were
in another world. Noise from the outside disappeared and the overwhelming
silence was deafening. The overhead florescent lights were out and only the
backup emergency lights were glowing. The shadows managed to hide most of the
damage but it was apparent even under the low light that someone or something
had already been there ... and was waiting for them.
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Thank you for reading!
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