Yes, someone has died. Okay, I just didn't want to create a disproportionate response.
'Shindig'
The Great Write Way, Act Three: Where's the gun?
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
I would think it would garner a little more attention if someone died. There would be lots of internet buzz, but a death would at least make the AP wire, you know?
The medium prompt is now closed.
The new prompt, courtesy of Amy, is bars.
Hey, it's Sunday.
I guess that means the bars prompt is now closed.
How about a photo drabble?
Photos One through Five are taken from the Library of Congress' photostream on Flickr.
Photos Six through Ten are taken from the Look at me site.
Crap! I am so dense.
Crap! I am so dense.
What?
I forgot to do the drabble.
Me, too. Not that I had one. Which is probably why I forgot.
Me too. Crazy, busy week.
Okay, so I don't miss it again, here's photo five:
Fate
"...beam snaps, the wheel buckles and collapses. Those people get trapped and crushed."
I listened with macabre amusement, while wondering how many goddamn cycles were left. That should teach me to ride with a stranger.
"This side will bend closer to the ground.” She turned to look at me, wide-eyed. Her tone was now pleading. Urgent. “That’s when you must jump. You'll fracture your ankle, but roll to safety."
"And you?" I couldn't resist.
Her voice resumed its eerie calmness. "I die."
You know the rest. I’ll still never understand one thing. Why did she get on the ride?