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Chapter TwoI came up with the name “Pigs” while they were escorting me. Apparently, the Pigs had the ability to walk through walls.
I realized that was what was off about them. It was the slight, but obvious, trait of looking like a guinea pig. The other reason I called them Pigs is because they smelled like horse manure and mud, what I imagined a barnyard pig would smell like (I wouldn’t know, seeing as I have lived in Boston my entire life.)
God, I could be so stupid sometimes. I mean, sharing my hard earned beer with these animals? Never going to happen.
Up close and personal, I could spot some more details about them. They were all masculine-looking, except for one smaller, not at all hairy one. They all had some kind of purplish streaks in their hair, including the lone female one. They all had weapons, a variety of whips, daggers, guns, and knives.
At least I’ll die like Daniel Craig, I thought.
I didn’t get time to. Because right then, the only female pig deci
Chapter OneI can't really tell you what exactly the end of the world was like, mainly because it was three A.M. pacific time when the Pigs broke free.
If they were going to attack obliterate humankind, couldn't they have at least picked a time when I was at least somewhat alert, so I could have run to my mother's house and cower behind her?
Well, I'm alive right now, so I guess it doesn't matter.
The main point is, civilization was totally wiped out in a matter of mere hours and I was in my apartment, snoring my ass off.
Well, of course the Pigs found me sooner or later. They took down the door while I was zipping up my best pants (reserved for job interviews and the off chance I had to go to a really fancy date).
"Hey," I yelled out. "Whoever did that will have to pay for it!"
I'm kind of ashamed to say that I was still unaware to the destruction going on.
So when I walked into the living room to inspect the damage, I got a shock.
I hadn't gotten a good glimpse at who had broke in. All I remembe
Four Tips on Being a Quality WriterTips on Being a Quality Writer
Hello! I'm here today with a few tips on how to be a wonderful, scratch that, a downright fabulous writer! First of course, there is the basic rule-of-thumb:
• Rather than summing things up for your reader, present your ideas and allow them to draw their own conclusions. It makes it a lot more fun, seeing their shocked expressions when they realize that their predictions was totally wrong.
And now onto the tips and tricks.
~ Numero Uno: Complex words and syntax are a hindrance to clarity. Ha-ha-ha, just kidding. Basically, difficult words and terrible grammar with ruin your otherwise great story.
o Example: Although I have never been to the races before, I was very excited to behold them, yet also somewhat nervous, because of the type of people who go there.
Ugh. That was almost painful to write. How about this:
o Improved: I'd never been to a horse race. I was excited to go, but also a little nervous, since I wasn't sure about the people at the track
"Nah, too short."
"That defeats the whole purpose."
"Hmmm…I got it!"
"I doubt it."
"Shut up. The perfect nickname is…"
"You were stretching out the is, so I decided to say the implied drumroll."
"Well, that was seven seconds of my life that I'll never get back. Now you made me lose my train of thought."
"Why train? Why not something faster, like a jet of thought?"
"Shut up, I'm trying to remember my perfect nickname for you. Oh, yeah! It was Al!"
"Well?! Do ya love it of do ya love it?"
"That has to be the stupidest nickname of all time. I'm leaving."
"Wait, don't leave! You're supposed to pay the bill!"
Start AgainThe joy of running almost overwhelms him.
The air whizzes by.
Everything else becomes a blur.
Nothing else matters to him.
She's running. But not away.
All roads lead to home anyway. No use
Running just because you can. Just for
She didn't see him comingShe didn't hear his
When they crashed, it was a tremendous noise.
That startled the entire neighborhood.
But everything kept quiet. Maybe in
Because they knew it was a
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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