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Creative Writing and Books This area is for members' stories and poetry. Also a forum for book reviews and discussion. |
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#1 | |||
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SIGH
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We had arrived. Finally.
The smell of fish drifted to me on the air. It filled my nose and I shuddered back the urge to vomit. I knew from the moment our boat docked we wouldn't be welcome, it was just a feeling I felt in the pit of my stomach. The sun reflected our red hair and made our whiter than snow skin shine more so. Marc had told me to wear a hat to shield myself from the taunts we knew must come, but I refused. We had left his hat in the shack when the villagers had found our used bottles of brown hair dye, there was no time to pack essentials. Our cat Poodles had to fend for herself now. I hoped she would find something to eat or that one of the village children would take her in. Given the villagers creed and thirst for purity, the cat was probably slaughtered in the Town Square with the entire community as witness. We unpacked our belongings and made our way down the damp pier towards land. Our story was simple. If anybody asked we were here on an overdue holiday. "Annie", Marc whispered as we walked, ..."we'll be fine, you know that don't you?'' "Will we?" I shot back at him. I regretted it immediately. It wasn't his fault we had to leave. It was my foolish mistake to disregard the empty bottle of hairdye, my mistake that Mrs Sprogate could be trusted with our secret, my foolish idea to move into a well populated village. We set our feets on new land. A fisherman was just over the way tending to something on his docked boat. As we drew a little closer I could make out the name painted on the side, COPPERNUTS As we approached, his eyes found us and moved directly to our orange hair, whipping wildly in the sea breeze. We stopped as he hobbled off his boat and slowly ambled towards us. My heart was hammering against my ribs and Marc's hand was sweaty in mine. As the man came within ten feet of them, he retrieved a gun from inside his shabby jacket, he cocked it and lifted it to our eye level. "You two aren't from around here", he said, with another glance to our hair, "...what do you want?" I began to sob earnestly.
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![]() When your opinions include depriving people of rights, freedoms, movement and opportunity they are no longer opinions. They’re threats. ………….
Last edited by Glenn.; 18-05-2013 at 02:36 AM. |
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#2 | |||
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Z
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#3 | |||
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Like a fine whiskey
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It's never too late to be who you once could have been... Spoiler: |
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#4 | |||
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Z
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I hope you will be updating this when you're back from Florida, Glenn
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