|Writing in 20 minutes
Author: Megabyte PM
A couple stories based off of prompts that were written in a 20 minute time limitRated: Fiction K - English - Humor - Words: 954 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 1 - Published: 03-12-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2332545
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I wrote these in 5 to 20 minutes. The first one was 5, and the second 20. I read a book on writing that gave you prompts and a time limit or something you needed to accomplish in you writing. The first one is supposed to be a story about someone you dislike turned into an animal. You can tell the antagonism I put out towards him. Scott, you'll know who I'm talking about. The second one gave me a sentence to start out with, and I completed the story in twenty minutes. They both aren't very good, but I thought it'd be interesting to see what people thought about them. Have fun!
5 to 20 minutes of writing
Kyle-the-mouse ran for cover, but he was too fat. He didn't make it. The hawk swooped in and grabbed him, carrying him off.
If only I'd been turned into a fish! Kyle thought longingly.
For Kyle hadn't always been a fat mouse. No, he used to be a fat human. But one day as he was fishing, his favorite pastime, something his him in the back of the head and he woke up in a rainy field like this.
It was funny. Kyle had always heard that you see your life flash before your eyes just before you die. That wasn't what he was seeing now.
Instead he saw the terror of the past few days in his mind. Miserable, rainy, cold, wet days.
Not having the brightest of minds, he didn't think that if he'd been a fish, he'd be living in water.
The hawk circled lower and lower in the sky, toward its nest of younglings. He struggled, to no avail. He was dropped into the nest.
There was nothing. Only a floating sensation. Kyle opened his eyes, which he had closed just before being dropped.
He was surprised to see he was suspended in midair, a boy again, as the baby hawks devoured his mouse's body. He smiled with malicious pleasure and used the rest of his existence haunting people. He haunted people with pleasure until one girl named Samantha, who could see him with one eye, locked him in a bottle.
He never escaped.
I have two eyes. That's the normal part. One is green and the other blue. The green eye sees what there is to see, but the blue eye sees much, much more.
I didn't discover my unusual talent until I was a junior in high school. I guess it was because there was nothing—shall we say special—going on around me until then.
It happened one day as I was eating my lunch. I was sitting down, minding my own business off in my corner of the cafeteria, when a little man walked in the building.
He was a funny little man. Short, skinny, with pointy ears and what looked like a tail protruding from the top of his pants. That struck me as odd, so I looked at him with both eyes rather than just my right.
And I discovered it.
I could see him with one eye, but not the other. Now this was very odd, and I probably looked like a freak to everybody, staring at a little man with a tail and rapidly closing one eye, then the other.
Nobody took notice of the little man with a tail. He just strolled through the crowd. It took me a while before I realized that no one could see him but me. Or, more accurately, my right eye.
He walked over to my table and sat down at the other end of it, taking no notice of me or anybody else. I stared at him with my left eye closed. When he realized I was staring at him like this, he became discomfited and began to fidget. Finally, he'd had enough. He stood up abruptly and moved across the table from me.
"You can see me?" he asked.
"With one eye. You're like a sun spot that won't go away," I said.
"You know, you look funny when you do that," he informed me, referring to my closed eye.
"Sorry." I opened it.
He stared. "Are you aware that one of your eyes is green?" he asked.
"Are you aware that one of yours is brown?" Of course, both of his were, but one of them was too.
"I'm sorry. That was rude. My name is Nathan."
"Mine is Samantha. Why do you have a tail?"
"Birth defect. Why do you have two different colored eyes?" he retorted.
"Birth advantage. After all, I can see you."
"I see. And do you know what I am?" he asked.
I smiled. "No idea. You seem nice enough."
He smiled back. People were giving me weird looks as they passed my table. Since that had happened most of my life, I didn't mind."
"I'm a ghost," he said. "I died here. I usually wander the halls. Do you know, I used to sit here at this table? People would make fun of me and my tail, so I sat alone here."
"That's like me."
We smiled at each other again, unlikely friends.
Nathan was the first ghost I ever met. There were others, not all of them so friendly as Nathan. I eventually graduated and went to college, becoming a "ghost buster." Nathan helped me, and as he did so, I fell more and more in love with him. When I died a year after graduating, we got married, and we lived—er, died—happily ever after.