Dance (an acrostic poem)

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Deep bass notes punctuated the melody

Announcing it was time to get up

Nascent instincts awaken and bodies begins to move

Creating a kinetic ephemeral work of art

Even though some of the pieces need some tweaking

Dual Wielding (an acrostic poem)

Double the trouble was not what Marcus wanted

Usually, he tried to avoid fighting when time traveling

As it didn’t really prove anything in his world

Looking at the two thugs with their swords drawn he knew he didn’t have a choice

 

Watching his foes split apart, he hesitated drawing his weapons

If he played his hand too quickly he would lose his only surprise

Everything would come down to timing

Lazily he took a small step back

Daring his attackers to press their perceived advantage

It must have been too good a temptation

Now they charged him.  He pulled out twin pistols from where they were hidden

Going to be tough to explain the bodies, but better them than him

 

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Framed In (a 150 word story)

Framing the new wall in his basement, Marcus was finally content with its positioning.  It wasn’t his best work, but because of the urgency to get it done, he was happy with it.

He would have been even happier if Dave hadn’t messed up the old wall, making Marcus do this fix.  If the man could have just controlled himself.  But no, he had to keep one-upping Marcus.  Marcus had warned him there would be consequences, but Dave didn’t care and kept pushing.  Now he was gone and left Marcus to fix the problem.

Marcus picked up the first piece of drywall.  He tried to wedge it into place, but Dave’s fingers were in the way.  “Who knew dead bodies would be so uncooperative.”  He chopped off the offending digits, hung the drywall, and chucked the fingers behind it.  Good thing he had drained the body.

“Rest in pieces.”

 

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Darlings (a 50 word story)

A lot of writing advice connotes I should be willing to kill my darlings.  Okay, they were right.  It made my writing more gritty and realistic.  The problem now isn’t how to make what I put on the page more lifelike, but where am I going to bury the bodies?

 

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Problems (a 100 word story)

It was one of those days.  Really it was one of those days, on steroids.  Still, Peter tried to keep a smile on his face.  It wouldn’t help to complain.  Everyone would just blow up if he did.

His friends would probably tell him he had “first world problems”.  He hated that phrase.  His problems were big enough to make him feel swamped, so in his mind they were still problems.

Peter had cut himself at work, there was blood all over his clothes, and now he had to dispose of not one, but two bodies.  Life just wasn’t fair!

 

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Lost Soul (an acrostic poem)

Looking over the remains of the party

Oscar shrugged his sore shoulders

So much carnage strewn across the living room

Too many people had been in too small a space

 

Still he had better start cleaning up

Olivia would be coming back in a couple of days and she would be pissed

Unless he started soon, she would see the mess he made

Lifting up his shovel he began disposing the bodies

 

Image:

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