Difference between revisions of "Wikifiction 1"
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| − | The grassy blades ruffled against his grass-like cheek, as Chris lay still in the wild grassy grass as the train passed him and the grass by... he then smoked some grass. He could feel his brain tingling as the devil weed began to influence his thought. It urged him to unspeakable things; it urged him to kill. Then he mowed the grass and thought to himself, "Oh, how wet the morning dew is! How I do love the grass! How it is the one pleasantry in a world of unpleasantries and how the appreciation of grass has been diminished to that of an aesthetic." | + | The grassy blades ruffled against his grass-like cheek, as Chris lay still in the wild grassy grass as the train passed him and the grass by ... he then smoked some grass. He could feel his brain tingling as the devil weed began to influence his thought. It urged him to unspeakable things; it urged him to kill. Then he mowed the grass and thought to himself, "Oh, how wet the morning dew is! How I do love the grass! How it is the one pleasantry in a world of unpleasantries and how the appreciation of grass has been diminished to that of an aesthetic." |
"Oh me, oh my, let thy freshly clipped nails fondle me," he said to the grass and promptly dropped his trousers. At that point a dirt devotee came by and laughed at him, all covered in semen, dew, and freshly cut grass. | "Oh me, oh my, let thy freshly clipped nails fondle me," he said to the grass and promptly dropped his trousers. At that point a dirt devotee came by and laughed at him, all covered in semen, dew, and freshly cut grass. | ||
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"Dost thou see what your heaven has bestowed upon you? Hah!" she said, then let out several more stilted laughs, spaced at intervals of forty-three and a half seconds. She then picked up her broom and flew away into the sunset, while the elements frowned. | "Dost thou see what your heaven has bestowed upon you? Hah!" she said, then let out several more stilted laughs, spaced at intervals of forty-three and a half seconds. She then picked up her broom and flew away into the sunset, while the elements frowned. | ||
| + | Chris looked at his tattooed wrists, crosses under the palms. Under the influence five years earlier, he thought, twenty years. The grass still wrestled in the soft wind. The hair on his wrists fickered over the ink. The ink. | ||
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| + | Grabbing a handful of pink cotton shirt right above his breast, he ripped outwards, the strong tear drowning out the rustle for a second, at least. | ||
[[Category:Wikifiction]] | [[Category:Wikifiction]] | ||
Revision as of 23:58, 27 May 2007
The story below is a work of collaborative fiction started May 27, 2007. Feel free to contribute to the story. You may use the talk page to discuss issues of character and plot development (among other things).
The grassy blades ruffled against his grass-like cheek, as Chris lay still in the wild grassy grass as the train passed him and the grass by ... he then smoked some grass. He could feel his brain tingling as the devil weed began to influence his thought. It urged him to unspeakable things; it urged him to kill. Then he mowed the grass and thought to himself, "Oh, how wet the morning dew is! How I do love the grass! How it is the one pleasantry in a world of unpleasantries and how the appreciation of grass has been diminished to that of an aesthetic."
"Oh me, oh my, let thy freshly clipped nails fondle me," he said to the grass and promptly dropped his trousers. At that point a dirt devotee came by and laughed at him, all covered in semen, dew, and freshly cut grass.
"Dost thou see what your heaven has bestowed upon you? Hah!" she said, then let out several more stilted laughs, spaced at intervals of forty-three and a half seconds. She then picked up her broom and flew away into the sunset, while the elements frowned.
Chris looked at his tattooed wrists, crosses under the palms. Under the influence five years earlier, he thought, twenty years. The grass still wrestled in the soft wind. The hair on his wrists fickered over the ink. The ink.
Grabbing a handful of pink cotton shirt right above his breast, he ripped outwards, the strong tear drowning out the rustle for a second, at least.
