Wow, Deena. Amazing.
thanks to Aimee, because I was having a horrible time thinking of something to write until I read her drabbles.
No fair making me cry first thing. I'm hormonal!
Mal: You want to tell me how come there's a statue of you here looking at me like I owe him something? Jayne: Wishing I could, Captain.
'Jaynestown'
The Great Write Way
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
Aims - May 07, 2004 6:43:47 am PDT #4441 of 10001
Shit's all sorts of different now.
Deena - May 07, 2004 7:04:01 am PDT #4442 of 10001
How are you me? You need to stop that. Only I can be me. ~Kara
Does it help any if I say I love you? I could even do the hand wave.
And the babies think I've spent enough time playing, dammit.
Aims - May 07, 2004 7:24:03 am PDT #4443 of 10001
Shit's all sorts of different now.
I love you, babe.
Gris - May 07, 2004 2:11:30 pm PDT #4444 of 10001
Hey. New board.
Define drabble, please?
I want to start participating! Writing is too much fun, I'm getting addicted.
erikaj - May 07, 2004 2:16:00 pm PDT #4445 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!
Then, you'll want quantity more than quality. Most junkies do. Sorry, Homicide quote, bad habit. A drabble is a story that can be told in 100 words. ION, I finished a story today.
Connie Neil - May 07, 2004 2:29:02 pm PDT #4446 of 10001
brillig
Teppy's been giving us themes on Monday, and we spend the rest of the week trying to get our thoughts into 100 words.
Gris - May 07, 2004 2:37:52 pm PDT #4447 of 10001
Hey. New board.
Toss. Turn. Roll.
He thinks of her.
Turn, again. Try, again, to sleep.
Why can't he stop these thoughts?
Fluff the pillow, straighten the sheets.
He doesn't like her! She's just a friend! No romantic feelings, really, so move along!
Meditate. Breathe. Relax.
But that was a good conversation, wasn't it? He really enjoys her company, doesn't he? Isn't she a neat person, a good friend, this new girl in his life?
Toss. Turn. Roll, once more.
Maybe he does like her. He doesn't even know. Maybe she's the one.
Maybe he'll know, tomorrow.
Toss. Turn. Finally...sleep.
erikaj - May 07, 2004 2:39:11 pm PDT #4448 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!
btdt. Still sleep alone. Sigh.
deborah grabien - May 07, 2004 3:39:48 pm PDT #4449 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Oh, NICE one, Nova!
One hundred words precisely, on a given theme. BTW, it's a gorgeous way to tease out a problem in longer pieces; at my brilliant husband's suggestion, I've used it to define plot points in my head, and surprised myself in the process.
deborah grabien - May 07, 2004 4:01:18 pm PDT #4450 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Hmmm.
Paris on a Summer Night
Quiescence, the heart of rest.
The long march of hours, from moonrise to the monochromatic grey of first light, has not been silent. Cities are never entirely quiet; in this, the heart of France since the Parisi first settled here, there are footsteps, murmured conversations beneath your hotel window, the muffled sputter of a Vespa, somewhere near Sacre Couer.
As in all cities, sleep here is a gift, to be taken as offered. As you drift from even relaxation to half-consciousness, the night completes its ritual.
Count your own heartbeats, and try to sleep while the City of Light permits.