The Legend of the Evil Spork
Characters
Narrator (N)
Spork
Coaster
Spoon
Fork
Dish
(Eerie music playing in the background as Narrator speaks)
N: All over the world there exists a thing that many people have never heard of. This thing is known as the spork. If you are one of these people who doesn't know what a spork is, allow me to describe it for you. A spork is a very special kitchen utensil, rarely found in most homes, despite its usefulness. This tool is used for eating, very much like a spoon and a fork. In fact, that's exactly what it is. A spork contains the rounded shape of a spoon, with the tines, or prongs, of a fork. There
“Yeah so the construction crew’s been trying to tear that crummy house down for a while, but they keep getting threatened by the deviant living in it.”
“Oh really?” You gazed at the supermarket clerk for a moment in surprise, before you looked to the old, dark house across the street.
“Yep. Not kidding around. They’re saying it’s armed with a knife, and that it’s not cooperating with anyone. Not humans. Not androids. Nada. I mean..I wouldn’t mind but customers are scared shitless and think it’s gonna go on a killing spree one day and-”
“Maybe I can try talking to t
Why Didn't Somebody Say Something? by jjtninja, literature
Literature
Why Didn't Somebody Say Something?
Why had no-one said anything before? The question bugged Alan senseless, especially after this morning, and it was all thanks to ice cream.
Ice-cream–everyone screams for it, everyone needs it, everyone loves it! Yet, for some reason, Alan’s parents never bothered to mention how everyone eats it. At some point in his life, they could’ve said, “Hey, Alan, here! Take this spoon” or “Alan, use this cone.” But nooo, they just sat by and smiled.
So, when Alan went to the school café for the first time and bought a small cup of ice-cream, he wondered why all the other kids sta
You're the Writer, Not the Grammarian by jjtninja, literature
Literature
You're the Writer, Not the Grammarian
The Pit
One of the biggest problems beginner writers–and even seasoned ones at that–can have is falling into the Grammar Pit: the place where writers become too focused on the grammar of their piece than on the piece itself. What's worse is that they do not even realize they have fallen into the pit thanks to its benign and subtle-like nature. The slow slide into the pit begins once writers start to ask questions in the middle of their writing; questions which are better left asked after their work is done. Some of the most common are: “Was it supposed to be who or whom?”, “Is that Oxford Comma neede
The Narrow Gauge engines of Sodor are always cared for by their Controller; Mr Percival
One morning, Mr. Percival came to see the engines.
Duke has broken down; he will not be returning for a few days, I have to be taken to the mainland for a Narrow Gauge Engine Rally, Freddie will be taking me there and representing Sodor Island
Who will look after us? asked Skarloey
I have arranged for a nanny to look after you! said Mr Percival
Duncan was indignant
Who needs a nanny? He snorted We can look after ourselves
Later that day, the nanny arrived on a flatbed that was being hauled
The silence felt deafening to Derek. He hadn’t dared move since he fallen, and the only thing he perceived was the rhythmic sound of his labored breathing.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Nothing else filled the soundless void. The upstairs had gone silent. No roar of the raging inferno that almost turned him into a pile of ashes, no rumbles from the dark dragon’s footsteps. Just his own mesmerizing breaths.
The musky scent of damp cedar filled his nostrils every time he drew in a gulp of the cool air. He’d felt like someone who’d taken a tumble down the mountainside when he’d
Today they found Jesus
in all his bloody crucified glory.
They found him in the back of a Pittsburgh woman,
Hands nailed to her shoulder blades
Feet fastened into that soft space between the vertebrate of her spine.
He was gasping for breath
but refusing to complain
About the dark
And the damp
And the smell (Sinners,
They smell, didn't you know?)
Because it would be so unsaintlike of him
to bitch and moan
about his suffering and pain
at the hands of evil Romans and wicked, conniving Pharisees.
Of course they were surprised to find him there
wincing and praying.
The lady had been complaining
for a long time
About the weig
Micropasta: Scratching as she Prays by KomradApex, literature
Literature
Micropasta: Scratching as she Prays
The box had reflective silver wrapping, with some sort of sparkly material infused into the paper, and came complete with a lovely gold ribbon binding the thing together. There were only three things off about this particular present.
For one, the tag read "From Georgia Johnstone". Georgia was a bit of a recluse within the Johnstone family, and neither Jennifer nor Adam Johnstone knew her very well at all. This was the first year she'd sent anything to the household of Jennifer and Adam at all.
For another, a curious scraping could be heard at night, coming from the location of the tree, sometimes accompanied by a stream-of-consciousness mu