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What follows is not, I say again, NOT, original. I swiped it from the introduction to "English As A Second Fucking Language" by Sterling Johnson. The goal was to show the versatility of the word, FUCK. That it was accomplished in less than fifty words is just lagniappe.
Night At The Opera
Mary, would you like to attend the opera this evening?
Fucking-A! Should I wear my black dress?
Why the fuck not?
Fucked if I know--Oh, fuck! I just remembered. It got fucked up in the wash.
Well, fuck the opera. Let's stay home and fuck.
Good fucking idea.
Rumple Foreskin![]()
Oh, I love this thread. I'll be back later with my contribution.
It's really hard to get to 10 posts when the topic is so specific. I mean, it was a lot easier to come up with something for "water" or "art" or "summer." Just sayin'.
"Oh man, I thought that piton was secure. Hey, where am I?"
"You're dead Mark."
"Dead? No way! Who are you?"
"I am your Guide."
"Guide to where?"
"The Other Side, Mark."
"Where you takin' me?"
"To the light of course."
"Dude! I'm really dead arent' I?"
"Yes."
"One minute I'm climbin' Crag Mountain. Then I'm here."
"Shall we go?"
"Yeah. Hey, this is funny. Talk about a whiter shade of pale. I'm almost transparent."
"We all are. That's one of my favorite songs. There's the Light ahead."
"Wow! This is the ultimate high, too cool!"
"And over we go..."
(100 even)
----------------------------------------
Four FlashFics to go people. #10 chooses the next topic.
Anybody?
She closed her eyes and danced. “A Whiter Shade of Pale” was their song. Her eyes still closed, she raised her arms and placed them around his neck and sighed. The rustle of her gown was the only sound in the room. She swayed gracefully until the music was finished, the dance over.
She opened her eyes as the last few notes faded away. Her hands dropped back onto her pajama-clad lap. Her lover disappeared and the ‘swish, swish’ was no longer taffeta, but the wheels from her chair as she slowly moved across the floor of her lonely room.
(100 words)
I liked that. A lot.
She closed her eyes and danced. “A Whiter Shade of Pale” was their song. Her eyes still closed, she raised her arms and placed them around his neck and sighed. The rustle of her gown was the only sound in the room. She swayed gracefully until the music was finished, the dance over.
She opened her eyes as the last few notes faded away. Her hands dropped back onto her pajama-clad lap. Her lover disappeared and the ‘swish, swish’ was no longer taffeta, but the wheels from her chair as she slowly moved across the floor of her lonely room.
(100 words)
Actually, yours is number 7 and Glynndah's is number 8. Only 2 more to go.
I may be, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. And if anyone else is inspired, feel free to jump in. It's not as scary as it looks.Doggone--you're right.
Who's up for #9?
Doggone--you're right.
Who's up for #9?
Come on. Show us. I'm sure they're all fine.I started a couple but they all sounded dumb.
I started a couple but they all sounded dumb.
They swirled across the dance floor until it was time for a break. Sipping their drinks, they held hands and stared into each other’s eyes. Ruby blushed when Bill winked at her and arched his eyebrow. The lights dimmed as they returned to the dance floor for another song.
“A Whiter Shade of Pale,” Ruby smiled. “Remember the first time we heard this?”
“Of course I do. It was 1967 and we danced to it on our tenth anniversary,” he replied.
“Can you believe we’ve been married fifty years?”
“You’re still beautiful, Ruby,” he whispered as the music played on.
((100 words))
That's beautiful Lynn.
Thanks.
Okay--who's up for #10?
You get to change the topic.
And do the first one if you choose to.
“Dude! What the hell kind of music is that?”
“Shut up, man. My grandparents are staying here for the weekend. This is a classic. A Whiter Shade of Pale.”
“So, you gotta listen to this shit until they leave?”
“Yup. They’re old hippies. They’re totally cool.”
“No shit? Think they brought some ganj with ‘em?”
“Prolly. Why? You wanna go smoke a bowl with the old folks?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Oh, right. They’re my grandparents, man.”
“So? Let’s go ask ‘em.”
“No.”
“Come on, dude. You said they’re cool.”
“They ain’t that cool.”
“I’m gonna ask.”
“No! Wait!”
Next topic: Writing
(Unless we've already done it. I can't remember.)