ubmerged below tons of dirt and rock S
nder the people scurrying like insects in metallic carcasses U
elievers in mass transit meditated as their bodies gently swayed B
eaving their way through a complex anthill structure W
nd then regurgitated back up to the surface like zombies risen from the dead A
earning for homes instead of brains Y
ashing the drums into a cacophony of percussion B
voking primal emotions from the audience E
ugmenting the movements of the partygoers A
ill all their bodies pulsed together as one to the… T
ancing beneath the huge mirror ball D
ts reflections allows the light to dance among us I
ound escaping from the speakers driving our bodies into S
ontortions of limbs and torsos while C
utside the 70’s became an inferno O
eep bass notes punctuated the melody D
nnouncing it was time to get up A
ascent instincts awaken and bodies begins to move N
reating a kinetic ephemeral work of art C
ven though some of the pieces need some tweaking E
ouble the trouble was not what Marcus wanted D
he tried to avoid fighting when time traveling U sually,
s it didn’t really prove anything in his world A
ooking at the two thugs with their swords drawn he knew he didn’t have a choice L
atching his foes split apart, he hesitated drawing his weapons W
f he played his hand too quickly he would lose his only surprise I
verything would come down to timing E
azily he took a small step back L
aring his attackers to press their perceived advantage D
t must have been too good a temptation I
ow they charged him. He pulled out twin pistols from where they were hidden N
oing to be tough to explain the bodies, but better them than him G
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.”
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?
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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ooking over the remains of the party L
scar shrugged his sore shoulders O
o much carnage strewn across the living room S
oo many people had been in too small a space T
till he had better start cleaning up S
livia would be coming back in a couple of days and she would be pissed O
nless he started soon, she would see the mess he made U
ifting up his shovel he began disposing the bodies L