Post the first two sentences of whatever you're working on

To my annoyance, a pretty woman was trying to talk to me. She insisted I must have some good stories, a strapping space engineer such as myself.

"Look, I'm married," I lied.

"Oh! Sorry..." She returned to her seat, shooting me curious glances throughout the bus ride.

Become existence and non-existence.
Exist and don't exist.

This works entirely as a piece of flash fiction too.

I like it.

The Race War began five years ago and with that the world was plunged into chaos. It started in Europe then eventually found its way into North America.

Thanks

Kissy kissy, schmoopsy poo – a one-and-atwo-anda-I-love-you! I had an erection.

P., der jung war, war kein Musiker. Jedenfalls nicht im Sinne einer Berufsbeschreibung, sehr wohl aber in dem einer von ihm für sich vorhergesehenen Bestimmung.

A voice, I give you

Come to life
And follow me

>Deus Vult 2

“Oh just one more…” he stammered as he rested against the bar, figures whirling around him as he looked up at the bartender.
“You’ve had enough, Frank.”

He walked down the street and spotted a tortilla and squatted beside it and spat and picked it up and ate it and stood and noticed a man staring at him and said ye that happened. He spat and walked on

Title: Quest of the Illiterate Spitting Tortilla Spotter

As soon as I thought I was out, they pull me back in.

Something I wrote recently.

"The English occultist Aleister Crowley (1875-1947) is responsible for a very large body of literature. He is also responsible for a very small series of surviving spoken word recordings, which are thought to have been recorded from 1910-1914, although some sources in some cases suggest later recording dates, perhaps circa 1920, or even 1942."

He kept the door to his apartment tightly locked. A flee would have trouble finding its way inside.

Simon has been presented many times with passionate monologues, and each time he has listened quietly and excitedly. His unusually sharp degree of interest is easily recognized, and always taken by the speaker as proof that their words are especially valuable.

jeez that's bad

A spill of conversation pours in from the outside through the walls. The hum of the fan isn't loud enough to drown all out their voices. He reaches for the pillow beside his head and places it over his ear. He perceives it's a symbolic but futile gesture. The ringing of the fan's motor begins to pick-up. It's all he can hear now. The voices dissipate under its siren. The drone becomes ambient. The motor cries for attention. Alone with his thoughts, the silence is maddening. Just one clean break is all he needs. He'll call for a new hook-up in the morning and overdose the night following. He was a joker, a smoker, a midnight toker. He got his loving on the run. Woo-oo-oo--ooo-ooo-ooo Woo-ooo-oo-oo-ooo

and then he raeps them?

yse

thot su

...

"Call me Ishamael."

"Oh... harder Ishmael, fuck me harder!"

breddy guddd

Write verse in metric feet

I really want this to be real, but then at the same time I would cringe too badly if it were.

Either shitty foreshadowing or we don't need to hear about the theoretical flee.

writingsentencesatallnotjustusingcontinoustextliketheancientsfuckingplebmaybeiwillthrowyouadothereortherebetweenmywordslatersoyoucanpossiblyunderstandalittlebitofthem

WRITINGSENTENCESATALLNOTJUSTUSINGCONTINOUSTEXTLIKETHEANCIENTSFUCKINGPLEBMAYBEIWILLTHROWYOUADOTHEREORTHEREBETWEENMYWORDSLATERSOYOUCANPOSSIBLYUNDERSTANDALITTLEBITOFTHEMSORRYFORGOTTOPUTEVERYTHINGALSOINCAPITALS

Waking up to a loud crash rarely means something good is happening. It’s never “CRASH! Mom made pancakes!” or “CRASH! We decided to adopt a Golden Retriever!”

Jona thought that all she had to do was reach out, and someone would take her hand. However, at the ripe old age of twelve, she got to learn that that was not the case at all. This long lesson began during an unusually cold spring, when Jona mustered the courage to sneak out of her home.

jej

I've been having a lot of trouble keeping food down recently. Every bite I take abates my hunger a little, but each bite hurts me in the pit of my stomach, too.

Sleets in the afternoon came down while Martin drove home. Twenty minutes there, and twenty minutes back at the end of the day.

Harpoon me, Ishmael.

Pls b8, pls

It's a book that is right now going through review with Amazon. Whether the entire book would be cringeworthy or not is up to you I guess. The main character is KIND of a beta, but he does prove himself to be a pretty good fellow.

*record scratch*
*freeze frame*
So that's me, the President of the United States

Are you writing a roadtrip?

You fucking spelled flea wrong, you fucking idiot.

Eat Da Poopoo. He said

Man these are bad and pretentious.

"Fuck me with that big fucking nigger dick!" My wife screamed.
Tyrone's balls slapping against her ass gave a percussive beat to my rhythmic weeping.

Feel free to contribute. I'm sure you're working on a masterpiece.

No I didn't. This guy did. Those two posts came from two different people. My two sentences are...
These.

not that it made a difference. i just don't like having the inside of my nose touched.

You start a sentence with capital letters.

"It was all a dream, Salt-n-Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine."

Filthy capitalist...

you don't make my rules and stylistic choices

"Line up my adversaries, blast on sight. And fuck your boyfriend bitch, I want some ass tonight."

It's not the posts that bind the clotheslines being too far apart, so they dip in angry countenance to the curvature of the Earth. It's not that feeling of malaise too impotent to complain about but potent enough to know it's there.

who cares? The fact that you took time to point this out is even more retarded than the typo.

A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare to it now.

Is English not your first language?

His teachers always regarded him as special, brilliant even and praised him often. However, these laurels and compliments made our hero satisfied and content. In other words, he wad told so often he showed great potential it stopped him from ever tapping into it.

"wad"

I like "wad" better.

Sez you

The sun was high in the sky and only a small breeze carried some welcome freshness to the passengers of the ships. The Trinity was reaching its destination and Thrista could barely suppress a wide smile at the the thought of finally coming home.

Go fuck yourselves. Fuck your mother, fuck your grandmother and fuck your sisters.

Whose voice should I read this in? If you don't specify, I'll assume Iron Sheik's.

She's an ageing theatre star.

...

Now THIS is an interesting first two sentences

E-d-g-y.

Night. Clear sky above.

He hit ctrl-x, closed the chat window and turned to his faithful machines. "We are totally, royally fucked this time, my friends."

"Call me Ishmael" - Now that would be completely dishonest and a plagiarising way to start.

Now only one enemy remained. Two, if you counted god.

Lucky loser, the comical top hat man cried, touching his belt as I wept raising my hands, sifting the air like the prophets did, in search of an open sky soul, misery beneath. Lube up your butt, boy, I'm going in hard.

Joyce looked at herself in the mirror, her butt looked full and pleasantly plump in her new pantsuit. She was the baddest bitch in the law firm, and now had the ass to prove it.

For years I've had this recurring dream where I'm four years old and walking down the Coney Island boardwalk, which is totally empty except for me, but it sounds as busy as it always has been. The Ferris Wheel's going strong, kids are screaming... all the happy, fun shit you'd expect just with no-one actually around.

Sounds interesting. But did you need to add "shit"? Comes off as needlessly aggressive and edgy.

I hate the sounds of footsteps in the house, there seem to be too many, I know the distance from the end of the hall to the door to my room and it is not so far and I feel there are moments similarly in my childhood that i have missed, that have slipped past my notice and are now divorced from myself and thought.

Holy.... i want more....

Just part of the character.

Just write 'but it sounds as busy as always'. I'd also do something to emphasise that the sounds are disembodied, as in, objects of their own:

'but there are still the sounds, as if the boardwalk were as busy as always.'

Something like that, not quite that.

I was standing on the balcony of an old opera house, hollowed out to make room for angry music and angrier sex.

There's an anxiety staccato heartbeat of electronic music sweeping at a crowd of people, young and drunk and screaming into the void, begging someone will hear and answer with their lips.

Sunset found her squatting in the grass, defecating. "Twilight Sparkle, what in the world are you doing," Sunset Shimmer said.

Wouldn't it work better as " Sunset Shimmer asked" or "Sunset Shimmer demanded"?

No, it's a surreal daydream about inspiration. That opening line is just a kind of dull opener, to give you a sense that the real scenario of the main character's doings are boring and worth going off into a daydream for.

Don't dignify that shit with a response.

Also,
malcolm-wood.com/Saidisms.html

Borges why are you lurking Veeky Forums/lit/?

"I'm coming too," he ejaculated.

If God is so Forgiving...

Why is Satan still in Hell

law of obligations: definitions and clauses
a valid contract requires a consensus by all parties involved. The consensus needs to be of at least two parties(...)

Because only one enemy remained. Two, if you count God.

>Ghjeti, native born; holding up the corpse of a Southman by his hair, wailed at the others. They dashed her son against the rocks.

He is not my hero.

Death cab?