.___. Any writer who is going to doubt themselves here from this point on, will be disqualified immediately.
chop! Mom's knife cut a a thick carrot. It snapped half and Mom stopped to wipe off her sweat on her forehead. I was on the back porch steps with Hanalyn, looking, and trying to draw our house in my drawing book. The knife screeched as it was being scratched through carrot after carrot, slicing until there was nothing left but a knife on top of the table. One minute I heard Mom whining about some things. "Does she have to do it?" Hanalyn said into the foggy air. My sister's hands landed on her knees, trying to ignore the whining. The two of us had been hearing our mom complaining about things. We made up a spy club where we held our meetings. ........... It's a little bit short.
every Sunday I go to MIT, where they do this program where you take a few different classes run by staff/students at MIT. One of them is a writing class… and it's helping
Thank you very much Deminic, looks interesting! I will be looking over all the stories and deciding my writing partners.
Good. I have decided. Mind you, this killed me and was extremely difficult. I picked two groups of four. I apologize for the ones I couldn't pick, I promise there will be a next time. You all are amazing writers. There is a very good reason why you were put with the people you were put with. this will be great! Group I: Me, Amanda, Angela, Flubber Group 2: Me, Royale, Adam, and Toxic.
Slash! War. Slash! It's inevitable. It causes the way life constructs just both, but gives us the bloodlust to conquer the greatest challenges. Devon Ports, 1877 My mind concealed at the sight of the ports and the docks of the ocean. They drift, restless, as the busy mumbling people of the docks crawled into the ships and sailed off. Being a treasure hunter didn't mean anything, I just wanted to prevent it. War.