Devious Journal EntryHopefully will be able to keep this up.
Here's the past three deviations for today:
Playing the Melody
Same Time Next Week
Deep in Thought
Newest
Food“To start I’d like a light garden salad with Honey Mustard dressing.” “Very good. For your main?” “I’d like the Fillet Steak with Peppercorn sauce.” “How would you like that cooked?” “Rare. No, Medium Rare, and a glass of Claret. And finally for dessert, I think I’ll have the Banoffee Pie with Whipped Cream, and some Irish coffee.” The warden nodded deeply. “I’ll go and tell the catering service,” he said through the bars.Food
by ~Nicktroptopolis
SilenceThe girl that walked into the lift behind Gareth looked familiar. Very familiar. Intimately familiar, but he could not for the life of him remember her name. He knew he’d met her at a party some time the previous year, and he knew that she’d made very good pancakes for breakfast, but that was it. He was able to fill in the blanks somewhat, but her actual name was eluding him. What was he supposed to say? “Hi, remember me?” “Hi, how was I?” “Hi, what’ve you been up to?” None of them would work really. He couldn’t ignore her, not in such an enclosed space. You justSilence
by ~Nicktroptopolis
Fetch Me the Moon“Would you fetch me the moon?” she asked, as they lay on the bed, staring out of the window.Fetch Me the Moon
He turned his head to look at her. “For you?” She nodded, “No chance.” She sat up, pulling her fingers out of his grasp and glared at him. He pushed himself up into a semi-upright position, leaning back on his elbows. “What did I say?” “I have to go.” She said through gritted teeth, standing and moving towards the door. Lunging forward, almost falling to the floor, he grabbed her by the wrist. “What’s the matter?” “You! I can’t believe you just sa
by ~Nicktroptopolis
Safety First“Seaman Jones!” the sub-lieutenant barked. The whole desk fell silent, and everyone stopped what they were doing to look at what was going on. With half the men looking at their commanding officer, and the remainder looking curiously at their comrade, trying to see what Jones had done to earn this singling out.Safety First
“Yes sir?” Jones said in a quiet voice, reluctantly making eye contact with the man standing a few metres away from him. “What are you doing?” “I was cleaning this barrel, like the Captain ordered me to” Jones said, gesturing at the cannon standing next to him. “Did
by ~Nicktroptopolis
Random Favourites
The man that lost his watchThe tide lapped against the shore in serene motion before coiling back into the ocean. He walked along the sandy bank, claiming slow and steady strides. Sand grains clung to his trouser legs, and the breeze gently tugged at his mousey-brown locks. Jade eyes rested on his feet. How far would he travel until he would settle? Would rest ever find him?The man that lost his watch
The shallow tide soothed his sore toes as it lapped at his feet like the cool, wet tongue of a treasured childhood pet he couldn't quite seem to remember. Such a memory would be forever fixed in his mind, yes, but would he ever find a face or name to match it?
by ~Remaen
IsobelIsobel is seven.Isobel
She is not graceful enough to be a girl. She had ballet lessons once, but she grew impatient of moving slowly and wearing matching socks. The only good bit was pretending to be a horse, galloping and cantering across the wooden floor.
She’d like a horse. No – a pony, something small and lazy like her. Or something clever, like a fox. Or a tiger, but not one of those orange ones, a big white one, like the one on the postcard that she has pinned up on her bedroom wall.
Isobel picks the scabs on her knees and doesn’t brush her hair every day. She kisses the girls in kiss chase. She watches
by ~curiositykate
Writing Prompts: FirstsKathleen Schapiro Professor Lindore English 101 27 September 2006 Writing Prompt: FirstsWriting Prompts: Firsts
“My name is Kathleen Schapiro, and I am sixteen years old. I think that 16 is the best age to be because it is a perfect square (4x4) and also happens to be the sum of the letters in my first and last names. I live in New York City, in the Bronx. Bronx, New York City also has 16 letters, but the city itself has five boroughs, which I do not like. I share an apartment with my mother, father, older brother Nick, and my cat Nietzsche. He is a mackerel tabby cat, and the spots on his nose are not quite symmetrical. A
by ~maraudersmap5210
Fave News
- 86 Prosers: July is Flash Fiction Month! - Jun 18, 2009
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- 119 Let's Reduce the Headache - Aug 8, 2008
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- 92 The Political Editorial Contest - Jul 23, 2008
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Glasgow
- Favourite poet or writer: Jordan, Kundera, Larkin, Lewycka, Lukyanenko, and Stephenson
- Personal Quote: "Einmal ist Keinmal"
- Tools of the Trade: a black fountain pen, a large moleskine, and a slightly scuffed laptop
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You're a writer? You're going to have to remind me to stop by and check out your work some time.
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Well, if it isn't fat stinking billygoat Billyboy in poison. How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly, thou.
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Friends? Out? With? Some? Let me smell your breath. I thought so! Chips! Where are my chips?! Here I am, worrying myself away into a stick, in the dark, and you're scoffing chips in some tart's lap. Where's my tart?! I want chips and tart!
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Hello, my name is spelling. Please stop raping me. `object2bdestroyd
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One Night Stanzas will change your writing.
Thanks for the watch. And everything else as well
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-n
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