"Carrying the heavy burden of the dead on our backs", we return to our families with a weighty burden on our minds.
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"Carrying the heavy burden of the dead on our backs", we return to our families with a weighty burden on our minds.
A dove flies over head.
"A dove flies overhead", its wing badly mangled and smeared with blood.
" "A dove flies overhead", its wing badly mangled and smeared with blood "of the men that will never be able to return home with us anymore.
*most welcome, Fool*
eh, sorry, always had a weakness for long sentences :o
And those who never were ment to be.
*abandons the idea of writing a story with people who can't even write complete sentences*
<rolling eyes and biting tongue> :p
*can't be bothered reading whole thread*
cont...
A dove flies overhead, it's wing badly bleeding and mangled, a reminder of the death and pain inflicted by the loss of peace.
*not 100% sure what's going on*
Comforting those who are dying, watching them slowly dying and left utterly helpless. Wish I'd paid attention during First Aid classes.
But most of my attention was directed to the beutifle red head three chairs back.
ok, confused again...
I'm sorry Fool. (?)
I think we fell off the storey again, sorry fool for my bad grammer.
Anyone think this is kinda sinking,
agrees with stan, and quickly runs to signal an SOS, while the others prepare the life boats.
ok, going to try and make a sentence (or two) out of the stuff written earlier... :o kinda ignoring Faye's first post, kinda... and maybe got what Fool meant... Stan, Fool uses to "complete" your sentences... maybe that was it Fool?... ok, got another idea... watch ;):
The rain soothed my aching soul and soaked my wounded mind. The sound of thunder always calmed me, no matter how upset I was. The painful echoes of destruction lingered behind me. The respite of the future, down the road. The sweet taste of victory was raging against the bitter bile of death. All the warriors who survived were on their way home. Our emotions drained, our friends dead, and the territory won, we headed back to our cottages and farms. Carrying the heavy burden of the dead on our backs, we return to our families with a weighty burden on our minds. A dove flies overhead, its wing badly mangled - a reminder of the death and pain inflicted by the loss of peace - and smeared with blood of the men that will never be able to return home with us anymore and of those who were never meant to be (able to write complete sentences ;)). Comforting those who are dying, watching them slowly dying and left utterly helpless, I wish I'd paid attention during First Aid classes.
I didn't include Sloegin's line, if you want it in, just add it, I can't make myself. So, wanna continue??? Please, do, I like the story still. Den, that includes you as well, no giggling, write ;).
And if anyone wants to kill me, join the line, you might be just the next...
Uhh... Sorry to nitpick again, but why would the dove's mangled wing be smeared with blook of the men that will never be able t oreturn home...? And if it's wing is mangled, how is it flying? And what about Stan's line? I thought that was the best one so far. The one about the redhead? Killer Stan, just killer!
??? redhead? I missed something? And Kik, use some fantasy lad, enjoy, join ;)... whatever...
going to annoy you a little more dear Kik, just posted my 600th post ;) right now, right here
Quote:
Originally posted by Stanislaw
But most of my attention was directed to the beutifle red head three chairs back.
oh, thanks, and sorry, gotta look for it...
found it... so if you all gonna excuse my dullness, once again...
The rain soothed my aching soul and soaked my wounded mind. The sound of thunder always calmed me, no matter how upset I was. The painful echoes of destruction lingered behind me. The respite of the future, down the road. The sweet taste of victory was raging against the bitter bile of death. All the warriors who survived were on their way home. Our emotions drained, our friends dead, and the territory won, we headed back to our cottages and farms. Carrying the heavy burden of the dead on our backs, we return to our families with a weighty burden on our minds. A dove flies overhead, its wing badly mangled - a reminder of the death and pain inflicted by the loss of peace - and smeared with blood of the men that will never be able to return home with us anymore and of those who were never meant to be (able to write complete sentences ). Comforting those who are dying, watching them slowly dying and left utterly helpless, I wish I'd paid attention during First Aid classes. But most of my attention was directed to the beutifle red head three chairs back.
ok, can do Kik? ;) really, thanks, I DIDN'T notice...
that's what I'm here for ;)
Always could use someone to KIK me in the right directions ;)
Exhausted by the march, the lack of food and water, and with the pungent smell of death in my nostrils, i dreamt of twining my fingers through the redhead's locks. The mangled dove sang to me while the butterflies played holy instruments. I struggled to wake up, wondering if i had succumbed to death as well, and startled, found myself on the ground. I must have fallen. i had been left for dead, along with the body i had piggybacked for over 10 miles (x kilometers, take your pick). Horrified, i picked him up and tried to run, still half-asleep, my boots squelching in the gloppy earth. I had to return to his family. He could not arrive later than his friends. His loved ones would be worried - I started to cry. Presently my tears abated, but the weeping continued; I stopped. Burdened in body and heart, I listened, so tired: the weeping issued from a gully to my right. It was not so much a cry as a wail, a bansidhe, but I knew it to be human -
Nnnniiiiiicccceeee, how the hell I'm supposed to continue this? Can't you guys write something not so good :o?
jay that was crap and you know it
:)
Huh? 'scuse me? If you think it was crap, I sure as hell don't, I like it a lot actually.
grazie; that's really nice of you. prose gives me fits. ok, your turn:
That was when I noticed it was him, he regained consciousness. I knelt beside him and tried to soothe the scared friend I almost lost today, and I still can if I don't do something, quickly. I took his battered hand in mine and gently squeezed it. I felt him responding to my touch, he was aware that someone was there with him. In panick I looked around, searching someone to help. There was no one. All the others were way ahead of us, not worried that they left someone behind. What was I supposed to do now? I was exhausted, my mind telling me to keep going, my body to take a rest. I decided to do both, to go a little further(farther?) and then sit for a while.
to avoid interrupting the story, I am commenting on something azmuse wrote in this forum in a new thread called Everlasting story comments.
Well, Fool, you gonna join? Or you don't like this all "not one sentence" thingy?
people! the story awaits!
Well Az, have a go ;). Fool? C'mon guys, drop a line... I'm not going to continue my part, anyone wants to join? ANYONE?
I sat on my a**, vaguely grateful that the rip in my backside hadn't invited any red ant colonies, and my head dropped. My friend was well, and standing over me. "We have to get to The Spring," he was saying to a tall man in a maroon robe. "We are as purple turkeys and dodo birds here, and there is no understanding availed to us."
"Hunh?" I asked him, turning my head, but he slept on, and I realized I'd dozed, but that we had to continue. But where we could possibly be safe now? It started to rain, and i heard growls, wild animals calling to each other. I shuddered as I envisioned buzzards joining them on the morrow.
I decided to see if any of the trees in the grove nearby could shelter us. I made my way over; they were unlike any I'd ever seen, even in California. Their trunks were easily twelve yards across, and rather than the "goose pen" burnt out middle, each contained a room; there were kitchens with desserts in the oven, breakfasts, dinners and suppers on the stovetops and tables. Some kitchens had breakfast bars, others looked like country homes or national park lodges. Copper pots hung suspended midair, and skylights here and there brightened the countertops and tables. There were bedrooms with feather quilts, king-sized beds, bunk beds, brightly lit rooms, carpeted rooms, some with computers and stereos and others with canopy beds and queen anne furniture. There were waterfalls (thanks Abdo!) in some trees, and backyard ponds in others, full of carp. One housed a solarium full of tropical plants. I ran back the way i'd come,
let's pretend that i never put in that last bit, and leave off where Jay did.
Writewritewrite!!! I will shut up! (want to see this continue).
That was when I noticed it was him, he regained consciousness. I knelt beside him and tried to soothe the scared friend I almost lost today, and I still can if I don't do something, quickly. I took his battered hand in mine and gently squeezed it. I felt him responding to my touch, he was aware that someone was there with him. In panick I looked around, searching someone to help. There was no one. All the others were way ahead of us, not worried that they left someone behind. What was I supposed to do now? I was exhausted, my mind telling me to keep going, my body to take a rest. I decided to do both, to go a little further(farther?) and then sit for a while.