Sep 3, 2014

TWS Wednesday Writing Challenge 9.3.2014

 Set your timer to 10 minutes and start writing. Your opening sentence should be 

"She tore the sheet off her desk calendar, the year had rolled around again to September with all of it's complicated memories... " 

Remember you can write in any style or format. When you are finished cut and paste your 10 min piece in the comment thread below OR put a link to your own blog or area where you write online.

2 comments:

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  2. Hey, it’s not it’s, it’s its, she realized. She cut short the thought, and with it its complicated memories. E¥she'd been try ing to cut down on her bitching for months now, with little success. She had to she knew; her friends, what few of them were left, averted their eyes, with a rolling motion like a diseased heifer giving birth to a watermelon. Not that she’d know. Indeed she didn’t even know what in the hell a heifer was, but the word fit in the sentence like a … oh hell, she thought again, cut with the stupid metaphors, you dumb broad. Nobody wants to hear … there she went again.

    Bitching like a boring shlemiel with hemorrhoids and a low-fiber diet groaning on a fleabag’s toilet, with a toilet tank that took on the dreams of the poor and the sick of heart, the losers, the junkies, the sops, the post-abortion runaways, the low-rent whores, the homos on the down-low. It stank of diesel and the air tasted of cheap bourbon and ruined lives. An ancient charbroil-mildew stain advanced up the wall opposite the biffy door. The room’s only light, a fluorescent tube struggling for the last dregs life, flickered like a morse code message spelling out the barely legible epitaph on a broken headstone in some god-forsaken churchyard in a …

    What was she thinking about again? She tried to trace her thoughts back to their origins, and absently tore a sheet of her desk calendar. She used it to rolled a splif, a September one, cool and mellow, redolent of the burning leaves and crackling footsteps and complicated memories of autumn.

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