Bi-daily 6&7 - Exposition Through Dialogue | 590 words

“You’re not coming?” I asked, “Why- I- Why? Why wouldn’t you come? We’ve been planning this for months.”
“I know, but there are some things I need to do, I’m sorry.” she said. Pure excuses. “I swear next time I’ll be there, and it’s just a trip, we’ll have many more.”

“That’s fine.” Was what I was supposed to say, that’s what I said all the time. Or at least the past ten times we had a plan to do something. Not this time though.

“Really, Steph? That’s what you said last time, and last time was just a spa day. This is a trip. We said we’d do this ages ago! It’s always been our dream trip, and you’re backing out the week before out of nowhere? What is going on?!” My voice got higher the more I talked. I was * at Stephanie, and I was not in the mood for fake smiles and okays. “You’ve been backing out of everything, and you never even give us an explanation. You can not just not go now.”
“Bella, I know, and I’m sorry, okay? I really can’t go. I need you to understand it.” She was acting like this was just another “let’s go out” day, and she couldn’t make it. It wasn’t, and even if it was, I’d be mad at her.
“We no longer go out together! Anywhere! We barely hang out anymore, what is happening? When did you become the friend that canceled at the last minute! You were the one who said we wouldn’t drift apart after school. And guess what? I miss you, and I want my best friend with me on this trip!”

Hurt. That’s what I could see in Steph's eyes. How was that? I was the one hurt. Though her expression quickly transformed into that sweet smile of hers. While this shook me, what I said was taking over my mind. It was too much. I was mad at her, and she needed to know that. I couldn’t let any other feelings get in the way of Steph realizing what she was doing. I really missed her though.

“I miss you too. It’s just- well, it’s hard. There is something going on, and I need to fix it. I know how important this trip is for you, for us, but I can’t go. Please understand.” Steph said, she held my hands in hers and looked at me with those “it’ll be okay” eyes. However, it did not seem okay.
“You can tell me, you know? I may be * at you, and it’s not only that I want to know the reason for you ditching us, but I care for you and you know that. I’m always here to listen to you. If you kill someone, I’ll be here. You didn’t kill someone, right?”
“No, I did not kill someone, well technically not” Steph murmured, her frown didn’t make me feel any better, “Bella, I don’t really know where I should start with this. It’s- well, it’s really hard.”
“Steph, what is it?”
“I don’t want to bring you down, and not before this trip. And that’s just an excuse, because I’ve been delaying telling you for at least two months. I-” Her voice was breaking; first signal of Steph about to cry. I was worried now, what could she possibly have done?! “Steph, you’re worrying me. Please just tell me.”
“I’m dying Bella!”

No. She was healthy. Her cancer had gone away. No. Not crying was not an option.

“Steph…”

Daily 8 - Conversation Between Past, Present & Future Self | 455 words

The light was completely blinding; my senses were numbed, useless. As the shimmering minimalized, two shapes formed in front of me.

“Where am I?” An acute voice came from one of the figures; an oddly familiar voice.
“The f***?” Now that voice I knew, it was my own voice. “Who’s there?”

My eyes were completely adjusted. Standing in my eyes was myself; two of me actually. Younger and older, past and future.

“You, or me? Us.” I said, “I’m both of you, or I think both of you’re me. Past me,” I pointed towards the little girl, “Future me,” The woman on my right, “And well, me.”

It was a weird situation? Yes. Did I know how to handle it? Not even close. Was I curious about these versions of me? Totally.

“Soo, how old are the both of you?” I asked. My future self looked old, but not that much. My younger self was totally less than 10 years old.
“Twenty-four.” Older me said, “I take it you’re fourteen or fifteen?”
“How-” I questioned, people always mistake my age.
“Your hair. It’s short, but your waves are messy and not defined.”
“Oh. So my hair is somehow wavy. Good to know.” I really wanted to see how it looked wavy, “And you, mini me?”
“I’m seven.” She said, I had forgotten how different my voice used to be.
“Ooh, Rebeca stage.” I chuckled, “You’ll get used to being the odd third one, but remember you are still a priority. Talk to mom and dad when you’re feeling ignored or whatever. And try to ignore the “second mom” reflex. I know it’s hard, but if you ignore it, things will be easier.”
“Thanks?” She was confused, but soon she’d understand.

It took me a second to realize whatever advice I gave, she’d still become me. Well, maybe there was some sort of way for it to change for her. I didn’t really know how this worked.

“What’s my future like? Are you a professional dancer? Are the girls still your best friends? Where do you live? What’s 2033 like? Is México good? How do you live, alone or with someone? Do you have a boyfriend? What is-” My many impulsive questions were quickly interrupted by future me.
“I can’t answer a lot of that for your own good. I’ll just tell you this. I’m still best friends with the girls, and I live a fulfilling life. That is all you need to know. Keep going.”

The blinding light came again. Before I could say anything, my other selves were fading. Guess I’ll have to keep living to know what happens next, and I’ll have to remember what I’d tell younger me, and follow that advice.

Weekly 1 - Characters | 1631 words

Part 1 - Character Development Through Songs | 222 words
Song: The Archer by Taylor Swift
“I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost
The room is on fire, invisible smoke
And all of my heroes die all alone
Help me hold onto you”

The streets are practically desert, there is no one soul outside, except for her. She paces along the dark night, just like she does whenever she’s troubled.

“Nightmares again?” Elison doesn’t need to turn to know who’s asked, “Yeah.”

Elison walked towards the General. He was the only one who knew about her nightmares. It was the main reason she walked at night, to clear her mind.

“When was the last time you ate something, Lis?” the General asked, “You look like a ghost, and I know you’ve been training all day.”
“Food’s scarce, and I don’t need it.”

Elison kept walking, they’ve had that talk a thousand times, and she didn’t want it again. As they arrived at the center of town, Elison stopped at a house, or the remains of it.

“How did you find me that night?” she whispered. She could still picture the fire rising around her, trapping her in. Smoke was everywhere, and she, just a little girl, was paralyzed with fear.
“As soon as I saw the fire, I ran into the palace. I couldn’t find your parents, but I followed the tune from your music box to your room.” he sighed as he looked at the house, “You were a young girl, losing everything to that fire, but that day I gained something. A daughter.”

Part 2 - Character Sheet | 119 words
Name: Elison Whitlock
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 21
Parents: Past king and queen of Xantis
Role: second main character, morally grey character, love interest
Job: assassin, rebellion leader
Physical description: blonde hair, light skin, green eyes, sharp and smooth cheekbones. Black leather clothes.
Strengths: strong leader, dedicated, doesn’t give up (sometimes it overlaps with stubbornness and becomes a weakness), physically strong, empathetic.
Weaknesses: Stubborn, impatient, impulsive.
Past: Elison’s parents were the king and queen of Xantis, until they died in a mysterious fire at the palace. Elison was taken in by the General, who took care of her as if she was his own daughter. They were kicked out and had to move into the poor area of town.

Part 3 - Character Motives | 602 words

Scenario 1 (basic need) - Elison is in a life or death situation, her first kill. She started wanting to get food and later had to save her life. | 248 words

Elison walked along the dark streets, lighted up only by the moon’s light. Her black hood covered her blonde hair, way too attractive to help her pass without notice. If she encountered a guard, she’d have more to worry about than finding something to eat. Her stomach growled as she slid in the shadows. Food was scarce in the kingdom, and the lower town was taking it the hardest. As she headed for the market area, she re-checked her coat. The dagger was still there.

“Young lady, what are you doing here?” Elison freezed. Why was there a guard all the way there? They only patrolled the market area “Turn around and lower your hood.”

Elison’s hold on her dagger intensified. Her feet were glued to the pavement, meanwhile her breathing was getting shaky. Breathe, Elison. Just breathe. You are capable of defending yourself. Do something, don’t stay still. While her mind wandered, the guard got closer to her. Her senses were numbed, but the guard’s heavy feet gave her a warning. Do something!

Facing the guard, she slipped her dagger out and stabbed it on his side. A gasping sound escaped him, taking Elison out of her trance.

“Oh my god…” her pulse was high, and her eyes were glued to the guard’s body. She had killed someone. “I, no. It was self-defense. Oh god.”

She hid her dagger inside her coat and ran.

People normally remember their first, and this was a first Elison wouldn’t forget.

Scenario 2 (psychological need) - Elison’s making her plan to get the kingdom back, the whole situation happens because she wants to feel like she avenged her parents. | 151 words

“Are you sure about this?” The General asked, he seemed doubtful “It’s not simple, and kid, you’re sacrificing a lot.”
“I’m sure.” Elison looked over her plans. She was doing something risky, and definitely illegal, but it wasn’t the first time. “I’m able to take the risk.”
“I’m not talking about getting caught. What you’re doing, you know it’s not right.” The General said, “Even if it is for the right reasons.”

Elison sighed. He was right, she was doing something far from right, but she had a good reason. She needed to avenge her parents, and most importantly she had to help her people. She wasn’t doing the worst thing on earth, and it wasn’t like she was actually killing the prince.

“Don’t worry about it. I know what I’m doing, and I’m doing it for them. Whatever happens, it’s worth it. Besides, we’re helping the kingdom by doing this.”

Scenario 3 (psychological need) - Elison is fighting with Conrad. She’s trying to defend herself and prove she’s not a bad person (both to Conrad and herself) | 203 words

“I am not a bad person, Conrad!” Elison yelled, “What else do I have to do to prove that to you? I help others, I’m leading this rebellion, I care for people, I care for you.”
“Doing good things doesn’t mean you’re not a bad person.” Conrad said, “That’s something I learned with my father. He does one good thing for the kingdom, but many bad ones.”
“Are you comparing me to your father?” Elison scoffed, “I can’t believe this. How can you compare me to him?! He is a bad person. He killed my parents and has no remorse about it. He manipulates you all the time. He’s willing to put your sister on the line. I am nothing like him!”
“You’re not? You kill people as well, you’ve manipulated me, and you’ve even put me on the line.”

Elison’s words got stuck on her tongue, how was she supposed to answer? Was Conrad right? No, he couldn’t be right, she was a good person. She took a deep breath, but it came out heavy.

“I am not bad. Everything I’ve done is for this rebellion, and to help my people. Even those bad things. I’m sorry if you can’t understand that.”

Part 4 - Expanded Scenario | 688 words (new ones)

Elison walked along the dark streets, lighted up only by the moon’s light. Her black hood covered her blonde hair, way too attractive to help her pass without notice. If she encountered a guard, she’d have more to worry about than finding something to eat. Her stomach growled as she slid in the shadows. Food was scarce in the kingdom, and the lower town was taking it the hardest. As she headed for the market area, she re-checked her coat. The dagger was still there.

“Young lady, what are you doing here?” Elison freezed. Why was there a guard all the way there? They only patrolled the market area “Turn around and lower your hood.”

Elison’s hold on her dagger intensified. Her feet were glued to the pavement, meanwhile her breathing was getting shaky. Breathe, Elison. Just breathe. You are capable of defending yourself. Do something, don’t stay still. While her mind wandered, the guard got closer to her. Her senses were numbed, but the guard’s heavy feet gave her a warning. Do something!

Facing the guard, she slipped her dagger out and stabbed it on his side. A gasping sound escaped him, taking Elison out of her trance.

“Oh my god…” her pulse was high, and her eyes were glued to the guard’s body. She’d seen dead bodies before, but none had caused a reaction like this one. “I- no. Oh god.”

She hid her dagger inside her coat and ran. She needed to get home; she needed The General. Her surroundings were blurred, and her heart was pounding to the point where it could explode. Her fingers were numbed, but sweat droplets fell from her face. Elison tried running, but her feet weren’t responding.

If her disorientation hadn’t gained her attention, her hair definitely had. She’d felt like the heat was asphyxiating her, making her breathing hard, so she ripped off her hood trying to get some air. People were staring, but thankfully there weren't any guards on sight.

“Oh god…” Elison’s heart was beating wildly. People would know, they’d know she was their daughter. Someone would snitch. The guards would come for her.

Elison headed for the nearest empty street. The shock had led her to the market, and it had been pure luck there were no guards in it. Rule number 1 Elison, never let strangers see your hair. Great job breaking it. She followed the path to her house, but stopped halfway. How would she explain what had just happened? What would The General think of her? She had done something unspeakable. It was self defense. What else was I supposed to do? They’d get us if I had done nothing. It was an instinct. Oh my god.

Without having to think about it, she took the long way home, avoiding the busy streets where anyone might recognize her. The General had friends all over town, she couldn’t risk encountering one of them. They were experts at extracting secrets, especially those you wanted to hide forever. She opened the main door, trying not to make any noise. There was a candle lit in the next room, The General had probably forgotten to blow it out.

“El?” The General walked into the main room, “Why did you take so long? I sent you to the market to get some food for the week, not to take a midnight walk.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” she murmured.
“What’s going on?” He asked. “You never apologize when you could fight me back.”
“I’m fine, don’t worry. The walk got me tired.”
“Okay, then where’s the food?” He knew she was lying. “You’re not a really good liar, kid. We should probably work on that. Now, what happened?”
“I- Well, I got into a tough situation, but I handled it.” She said, the images played back on her head. The guard’s dead body, her dagger stabbing him. Her dagger. It still had the guard’s blood on it. Her stomach tightened up, but she couldn’t vomit the food she hadn’t eaten. “I swear I didn’t want to do it. I’d never do that, you know I wouldn’t.”
“El, what did you do? You’re acting like you just killed someone.” Elison sighed at that. “Oh.”

Elison raised her head to look at him. He wouldn’t look at her, he wouldn’t say anything. What could he be thinking of her?

“He caught me alone, and I swear I wanted to run, but he got close to me and-” She couldn’t say anything else.
“Did someone see you? Was there anyone else? Elison, answer me!”
“No. I don’t think so. There was no one.” She answered. She realized why he was asking and felt another knot on her stomach. “What would they do to me?”
“I’m not sure, kid. You’re a special case.” He murmured. He had to do something about her. If someone saw it was her, death wouldn’t be her punishment. The king wasn’t that kind.
“I’m not a bad person for this. Or do you think I am?”
“Of course not. I killed people in my days as well. Do you think I’m a bad person?” He smiled at her. “Though I must say fifteen is a young age for your first kill, I don’t think you’ve even had a first kiss”

Elison laughed at that. He was right though. She was in the age of firsts, but she never considered killing someone would be one of them.

Daily 10 - Historical Time Period Featuring a Flower | 542 words

People used to say the UK was the best place ever. At least those who lived here did. The ones who lived a good life of course. I was one of them; the high class of London. That was all before the wars. World War 1 left England in the roughest of situations. The poor had no food, and us, the rich, were introduced to a struggle we had never seen before.

There were a few years of supposed peace, I thought there was actually peace. I can still remember the first day I was able to go to the market again; the flower market was the best. While I was forced to stay home, flowers were the one thing I missed the most. When ‘normal’ was a thing again, flowers instantly jumped back into my life. I came back home with a bouquet of my favorite flowers.

“Welcome home ma’am.” Our maid said, I passed her my coat and entered the hallway. We were lucky to have a maid, most people had lost them in the war. Our maid, Sophia, was like family. “I see you’ve brought poppies, Miss Eudoria. Would you like me to put them in your room?”
“Yes, thank you.” I passed the poppies along to her and entered the drawing room.
“Dear, join us for tea, won’t you?” My mother offered me a seat in front of her and my father. “Where were you off to this morning?”
“The market, mother. Flowers are blooming again, and they had some beautiful poppies.” I answered, “I could fetch some flowers for you tomorrow if you wish.”
“Flowers aren’t your mother’s thing, dear. You on the other hand. Your vase is never empty.” My father chuckled.

This was normal. It had been even with the war. It would always be.

Four Years Later

“You can not set me up for marriage, mother! This is atrocious!” I exclaimed, “I’m 21 years old, I think I’m of a fair age to make my own decisions.”
“You are so exaggerated, Eudoria. I’m just asking you to meet him, and you being 21 gives me even more reason. So please just-” The loud doorbell rang, “Answer the door.”

On the other side of the door, was a man, holding a bouquet of-

“Carnations!” I exclaimed, “I’m sorry, welcome to our lovely abode.”
“Miss Eudoria.” He took my hand and gave it a kiss, “There weren’t any poppies, but I thought you’d like this.”
“They’re gorgeous, but if it’s not unpolite, how did you know I like poppies?” I questioned, “Did my mother tell you? She’s been too intense about this.”
“No, I’ve actually seen you in the flower market. You’ve got a wonderful taste if I may say so.”

Oh. He knew about flowers, he was somehow good looking, and he knew how to compliment. Maybe arranged marriage wasn’t so bad after all.

1943

I held the poppies close to my heart. I needed to feel him one last time before I said goodbye.

“Today, we stand here to recognize John Baker, who fought valiantly for our country.”

I walked over to the coffin, and layed the poppies next to the love of my life.

He gave me flowers, every time we saw each other he gave me flowers now I’m giving them back

Critique for @-kreatif | 303 words

Overall the piece is great, but it feels a bit dry, I know the main character is feeling anger, but I'm not feeling or sensing it myself. Using adjectives of course gives it more description, but try showing all these feelings instead of telling us about them.

I spun around, my gaze puncturing the unknown woman. I pursed my lips and said, “Leaving.” She didn't need to know anything, no one needed to.

People normally don't detect or can explain expressions like pursing their lips. It sounds weird when you're writing in first person. I'd take out ‘I pursed my lips and said,’ and just leave ‘I’m leaving'. It's less descriptive, yes, but you are conveying the emotion throughout the whole text, these little things are what add dryness.

“What is wrong with you?” | yelled in her face, fighting her with my eyes.

The “in her face” is unecessary. We already know she is in front the character as she is slamming them agaisnt a wall.

Why would you leave paradise?”

I feel like for some reason this dialogue doesn't match with the emotion of what's happening. The woman is angry, out of her mind mad, and the dialogue feels soft. You could add an exclamation mark after the question mark, or you could try changing it up to match the anger on the woman.

And you know it's forbidden, so don't even try“

punctuation mistake here <3 you're missing the quotation marks before the dialogue.

Her tone was snide, very well even challenging me.

You learn new things everyday haha. What's snide?? I've never heard the word before. Also, the “very well even challenging me” sounds a bit off, I think it could be the ‘even’.

Next thing you know I'm falling and I have about 30,000 feet until I hit the ground.

The “you” changes the pov a little. You're writing in first person, and I'm pretty sure you're not using second person as well. If you are then this is fine, if not you could switch the ‘you’ for ‘I’.

As a general thing, I'd recommend paragraph breaks. They'll give your writing a different perspective to the eye and makes it easier to read.

Remember all of these are just suggestions which you can choose to leave or take <3

CRITIQUE FOR SWC NOV 23
Overall, I really liked it. You had a steady pace with the repetition and how the story went on, giving us more details to what could have happened. I am a little confused, but I am sure there is more of a story to this for what could explain happened between the two lovers. The repetition was good, because it put emphasis on the fact the passing pained the other so deeply. I think that you could cut out the second time the character says “ The altar was the place of crossing, it was a pathway.” because you said that earlier, and I do not think that needs to be repeated, even if you want to put emphasis. It is simply not necessary. Instead I think you could put it into one sentence like "The alter was a one way pathway: You crossed it but you can't cross it back.” There is lots of telling, instead of showing, but I think it is appropriate since the character is talking/telling their grief. Also this sentence “On one side of it, we entered our love. On the other, you were teared away from it, and me from you. The altar gives, but it took from me. It took you from me.” Don’t you think those sound similar? Even though they are worded differently, they are pretty simpler. So you could cut one out or “On one side of it, we entered our love. On the other, you were teared away from it, it took us from each other.” To just summarize the idea in one sentence without repetition. If you want to show, not tell more you can throw in some figures of speech. Hm for example, “The alter is a tunnel, separating the living and deceased.” I think that’s a metaphor, also I’m assuming the alter is like the bridge between the living and not living? Anyways, really awesome write. Keep it up!!

Daily 13 | 370 words

“So… are you in?

What would mother do?

“This is your only chance to choose Amelie, don’t make the wrong choice.” Elisa warned her, “You don’t want to end up like your mother, do you?”

What?

“Like my mother?” Amelie looked at Elisa with eyes drowning in indignation, “What does that mean, grandma?”
“Dear, don’t take it badly. Alice was a great mother, but she failed this society. She ended up all alone, even your father left her right after you were born. I don’t want you to end up that way.” Elisa said, “Her place in this society is now yours. Are you taking it or not?”

Amelie took a step away from her grandmother. Her mother had spent her whole life trying to keep her away from that, she needed to respect that even with her gone. Her grandmother was a schemer, a crazy woman who cared for no one but herself, she couldn’t become someone like that. However, she knew her mother’s death had something to do with the society. If she was inside it, it would be easier to figure it out.

“I’m in,” Amelie walked to the board’s table, “On one condition.”
“What do you want, my dear?” Elisa asked, things were going just like she wanted.
“My mother’s place on the board.” Or were they not.
“I’m sorry?”
“I know my mother had a place on the board of this society, that until you kicked her out. I also know no one is occupying it. I want it.” Amelie smiled innocently at Elisa, that was definitely not what her grandmother expected.

The board members gathered around Elisa. They had a vote, but in the end she was the one making the decisions. She wanted Amelie in the society for some reason. Whatever it was, Amelie would use it in her favor.

“So?” Amelie asked as the members dispersed through the room.
“I am not making you a board member instantly, but if by the end of the month you prove yourself worthy of it, you’ll have your mother’s chair.” Elisa pointed over to the empty chair next to her own. “Do you accept my terms, dear?”

You’re doing it for her.

“Yes, I accept.”

Daily 14 - Persuasive Essay For Daily Team | 446 words

The Daily Team is on strike, leaving Scratch Writing Camp without their mastermind activity creators. What will be of SWC without dailies, weeklies, and all the other activities which make it the amazing experience it is. The Daily Team is an essential part of SWC, and we need them. In the name of all SWC-ers I come here to convince this strike to end, and the dailies to continue.

I know the thought running through all the Daily Team members' heads is, “Why should we continue?”. There are thousands of reasons for you guys to continue, so many we could make a gigantic list, but I’ll just mention the most important ones. First, the dailies build us up as writers! Most of my writing skills have come from doing dailies and weeklies in SWC. School doesn’t teach me a lot about creative writing, and as someone who loves to write, SWC and its activities have been of huge help to me. I know a lot of us have learned a lot from dailies. We’ve learned writing skills, to manage our time, and to find our writing styles by writing these short pieces everyday.

Certain dailies and weeklies have transformed into what I think are some of my best pieces. The prompts take us out of our comfort zone and make our writing have a different element each time. I’ve developed the way I write thanks to these dailies. You can see how my style is alike, but how I’ve been able to create a wide range of things. The prompts the dailies give us, helps us boost our creativity if we don’t have an idea of what to write. When I have writer’s block, the dailies normally help a lot.

Lastly, SWC as a camp and community certainly wouldn’t be the same without the dailies and weeklies. There won’t be the satisfying pressure of having to finish a piece in 24 hours, there won’t be many pieces to critique in the critiquitaire, and we won’t have our biggest source of points. How will the competition in SWC be the same without the dailies and weeklies? It won’t. Things could never be as great as they are without dailies and weeklies, because whether we want it or not they are one of the biggest components of SWC.

Hopefully, the Daily Team will be convinced of ending their strike and not taking dailies and weeklies away from us. We are so grateful for everything they do for SWC, and we hope they’ll be able to see our love for them and everything they do. Dailies and weeklies are so important to our camp, we’d do anything for them.

Daily 15 - Free Character Writing | 438 words

Rea walked behind Millie as fast as she could. Millie wasn’t a fast walker, but when she set her mind to something, her feet moved at double the speed.

“Wait up!” Re yelled, “He won’t leave if you walk ten steps slower!”
“You don’t know that! This is our last day here before break, I need to see him!” Millie yelled back. She was determined to get to that coffee shop, “Hurry up!”

Rea grabbed her backpack tighter and began sprinting. If Millie entered that coffee shop alone, her delusion could win over her and make her do some stupidity. She finally caught up with Millie at the coffee shop’s door.

“Thanks for being so patient, you delulu dummy.” Rea caught her breath before opening the door.

Millie entered the place while scanning it entirely. Her eyes stopped on the last table, the one on the corner next to the window. She let out a small smile and guided Rea through the tables. They sat on one close enough to him for her to watch him unsuspiciously.

“His usual table.” Millie whispered, “Can’t believe this is the last day I’m seeing my husband.”
“We’ll be back after break, I doubt he’ll be gone. He’s a student after all.” Rea said, “However, if he is gone for some reason, I know you’ll find another husband soon enough. You can’t go a week without finding a new crush.”
“You’re right. I’m a woman with options.”

Millie looked at Rea and they both broke out laughing. This was Millie’s third crush in one semester, which was surprisingly not her record. Each morning they walked to the same coffee shop so she could see him before classes. Today, they were heading home for the holidays, but made their usual stop before heading to the airport.

“Can’t believe it’s been six months since we came here.” Rea said, “I can’t even believe we’re actually here, studying abroad together.”
“I know, it seemed like nothing when it was just an idea. A very delulu if I say so myself.” Millie chuckled, “This just proves it, delulu is the solulu.”
“Your long life theme.” Rea laughed, “I’ll go get our coffees.”
“Thanks, pretty.”

Rea walked to the counter and ordered their usual order. It was hard to believe they’ve been doing the same thing almost every morning for months. She’d miss it when they were back at home, but she was glad to go back for a while. Studying with Millie was everything she wished for two years ago, and it was definitely living up to the idea, but eating tamales sounded just as good.

Weekly 1 - Humour | 1417 words

Part 1 - Skit | 430 words

RE (re-reading the script): I think we’re all set for this chapter. Please try not to get it wrong.
SAM (taking a sip of her starbucks): I’m sorry if me being a dyslexic frog is annoying to you.
RE (moving the stuffed animals): You’re never annoying. Except when you are, in that case don’t even get close to me.
SAM (gasping and moving hand to her chest): I feel insulted! You know what, Miss I’m Annoyed, let’s get this done in one take so you can shut your mouth.
RE: Fine by me. I’ll start, okay?
SAM: Yep
RE: (pressing record): Now we’ll be talking about the hormones involved. FSH, LH, estrogen, and, uhm- ugh what was it?
SAM: (looking at script): Progesterone
RE: (stopping recording): Sorry. It was my fault now, I always forget progesterone!
SAM: What do you have against progesterone? While we were practicing you also forgot it! Stop being mean to my best friend progesterone, I mean, what’s the need to be rude? Progesterone is a great hormone, and you shouldn’t underestimate it! It’s really powerful, and guess what, it’s my best friend. Yes, it’s a better friend than you!
RE (throwing SAM a stuffed animal): You are absolutely crazy. There’s no way your new bestie progesterone is a better friend than me. No one is a better friend. Who else will stand your hyperactive butt? I don’t think progesterone will, and I don’t think progesterone will let you abuse them with your bites.
SAM: (exaggeratingly gasping) My bites are a sign of love. You’re lucky to receive them!
RE (looking at the clock): Oh my god. Dude, we’ve been recording this thing for four hours, and we’re not done yet. We really need to speed it up. We have to listen to it to check it’s right, my voice is getting dry, and my stomach is howling like a wolf.
SAM: Your stomach is always howling so shut up, but yes we can go a bit quicker if we stop these pauses. Though these pauses and weird interruptions are what are making it so enjoyable! We’ll remember this project not by the actual work, but by the awesome time we had while recording it. Hey, you can even write a skit about it in the future!
RE (laying on the floor): Yeah, I guess you’re right. We do need to make the best out of each moment now. Let’s take a break and just lie on the floor for a minute please.
SAM (jumping next to the stop where RE is): I love the idea

Part 2 - Song Parody | 286 words
Song: Chillin’ Like a Villain

Let me tell you something you can really trust
Everybody’s hungry all the time
I know people think food can be a bit too much
But when you love it the limit is the sky

You need to choose your meal
You need to pick dessert
You need to sit back
Pick which soda
You need to not care (if you’ve already eaten today)
You need to start eating food
When your stomach says I’m hungry

You wanna love food?
Let me show you how
Are you hungry soon?
I guess you can know how
And once you know the feeling, once you know the feeling
Your stomach will be howling, howling, oh

Your stomach will be howling (for food)
Your stomach is growling (it wants food)
Your stomach will be howling (for food)
Your stomach is-, your stomach is (hey), growling

Once you’re hungry it won’t go away,
You’ll have cravings 24/7
You look like you could have some great appetite
I’ll show you the way to the fullest fridge.

You need to choose one drink
You need to eat it up
You need to sneak food in
Don’t let them see
And if you want it, take it
And if you can take it, eat it
If you care about your health (seriously, who cares about diets?)

You wanna love food?
Let me show you how
Are you hungry soon?
I guess you can know how
And once you know the feeling, once you know the feeling
Your stomach will be howling, howling, oh

Your stomach will be howling (for food)
Your stomach is growling (it wants food)
Your stomach will be howling (for food)
Your stomach is-, your stomach is (hey), growling

Part 3 - SWC Fanfiction | 701 words

“Re, should we be doing this?” Ris asked, “I’ve had my share of experience breaking rules and this looks a bit like it.”
“I agree with Ris, raiding the Main Cabin’s cupboard does sound rule break-ish.” May added, “I know we were hungry, but I don’t feel that hungry anymore.”
“Guys! Where’s the initiative? Also, we’re not entering illegally or anything, I have keys.” Re said, trying to calm Ris and May down, “We’ll just take some quick snacks and head back to the cabin. Everyone will be so happy about it, you know?”
“Fine, but let’s be quick.” Ris murmured, she gave Re a nod and followed her towards the Main Cabin’s back door.

Re stumbled through the many keys until she found the correct one. Being a co had its perks, and while she normally didn’t do things like this, food was awaiting them. Re handed the keys over to May and opened the door. She pushed it slowly, trying to avoid its usual creaking sound. May and Ris entered behind her, following her every step.

The cupboard was just known by co’s and leaders, and while they were able to take things from it, curfew existed. Trying to avoid midnight snacks, the hosts had decided to close off the cupboard one hour before midnight. They hadn’t considered the crazy stuff people could do for food, especially when that time of the month cravings were involved. Re guided Ris and May through the leader’s area of the Main Cabin, until they arrived at a small door. “The Mango Shelf”

“The Mango Shelf?” May questioned.
“Inside joke,” Ris chuckled, “It’s funnier than having a sign saying ‘Cupboard’, that screams boring. The Mango Shelf on the other hand; it just irradiates SWC vibes.”
“It surely does. May, keys please.” May handed Re the set of keys. One of them opened the cupboard’s doors, setting all the snacks free and giving their tummies just what they needed, “Got it! Ladies, welcome to heaven.”

The cupboard’s doors opened as soon as Re turned the key. Light irradiated out of it, temporarily blinding the three intruders. May’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped, she was the only one who’d never see the SWC cupboard.

“What is this place?” She murmured as she took in the sight. The shelves were filled with snacks of all types, but May’s hands fell on the first shelf, “There is an actual mango shelf- the whole shelf has mangoes.”
“All types of mangoes.” Re said, showcasing the shelf. She opened a box and handed both girls a chocolate covered mango, “Try them, they’re really good and my favorite.”
“Anything chocolate related will be your favorite.” Ris laughed, “Let’s stock up and hurry out of here. The last thing we need is someone catching us here, especially a host.”

The three girls ran through the shelves, taking everything that could fit into their hands. Most shelves were full, making it impossible to notice anything was missing. Re stopped in front of the chips hall. She could swear there had been a bag of Flamin Hot Lays when she first passed the shelf.

“Did any of you take a bag of Flamin Hot Lays?” Re asked when they reunited back at the entrance.
“No?” Both girls answered. May checked the stuff they all had and added, “I also saw some stuff moved around after I passed the mango section again. And none of us took any mangoes.”
Ris voiced what they all were thinking, “There’s someone else in here.”

The girls were interrupted by a startling noise two shelves away. Ris held the stuff Re was holding and Re advanced towards the hall. She peeked her head between two chocolate boxes and-

“Moss?!” Re exclaimed.
“Re? What are you doing here?” Moss was standing in the other hall with a bag full of mangoes and the bag of chips.
“I’m pretty sure the same thing as you.” she chuckled, “I guess we weren’t the only ones hungry tonight.”
“We?”

Ris and May walked out of their hiding spot and smiled at Moss. She scoffed and then laughed. It looked like even hosts could be hungry and break their own rules sometimes.

Daily 18 - Sidekick Scenario | 323 words
Scenario: sidekick becomes evil | Sidekick: Chewbacca

Han Solo and Chewbacca were walking through the Millennium Falcon. They had made an emergency landing on Tatooine, the last place where Han wanted to be. Han ran through the ship, trying to run the fastest diagnostic possible.

“Move, furrball!” Han yelled, pushing Chewie out of the way.
“Wruahhh!” Chewbacca yelled back at Han.
“Be patient?! Any second now, Jabba will know we’re here, and that’s off with my head.” Han said standing right in front of Chewie, pointing at him while he talked, “If you had done the diagnostic correctly before we left, this wouldn’t be happening!”
“Wruahh ahh” Chewie crossed his arms and stood in between Han and the cockpit.
“This is your fault! And I’m not apologizing, now do something useful!” Han exclaimed exasperated, trying to pass through Chewbacca, “Chewie! Move!”

Chewie stepped away, letting Han into the cockpit. He walked to the back of the Falcon, far enough from Han. He took a com, and sent a beacon signal. He was answered by a voice on the other line of the com.

“Jabba’s people are on their way, they’ll bring your payment with them.” a rusky voice said, “Keep Solo in there.”

Chewbacca turned the communicator off, leaving it behind. He headed for the engineering station, looking for something that would delay Han. It couldn’t be obvious. It needed to be something he wouldn’t notice.

“Chewie! Check the hyperdrive!” Han yelled, “We need to get out of this system now!”
“Wruagh.” Chewie hurried for the hyperdrive. That was it! Even if Han was able to get out of Tatooine, he wouldn’t get too far. “Gruahh.”
“Yes, everything else is done!”

Before Chewie could get to the hyperdrive, an alarm went off. They were here. Small ships started to round the Falcon, leaving it little to no escape.

“Chewie! Screw the hyperdrive, let’s get this thing moving.” Han yelled.

Chewbacca headed for the escape pods, this was Solo’s problem now.

Critique for Crim - 418 words

Overall, I love the piece. My jaw dropped more than two times while reading it! I was a bit confused at first, but as it developed I really understood it. Emotionally it feels a bit grey. I'm not sure if that's what you are intending on projecting. If it is, you've done an incredible job! I can feel indifference from Rome towrards his death. He's indifferent to death, but not to wha he does before it comes.

The first sentences had me a bit confused.

The clock told Rome that his time was almost up. Outside told him the same thing.

I feel like the second sentence is what draws confusion. Though it only happens when you frist read it. I had to read it a few times along with the next paragrpah to get it right.

and the circle of metal on his chest radiated cold.

You talk about this cold metal more than once, yet I'm not sure what you refer to. It could totally be me though.

But Rome hadn’t wanted to check the clock, so they didn’t, not at first

I love how you reference clocks throughout the whole piece. Along with winter, it gives that “time is running out” vibe to the story. How you add it up with the clock the man gives Rome at the end of the book is impressive! You're talking about this metaphor all the time and at the end of the story you have an actual clock, which does give Rome more time, while taking the man's time and life with it. Winter is still linked in here, as you mention it's the one who takes the man. I really love that!

He wondered, like he had many times before, if he could die sooner than the clock said. But his mother had told him that the clocks didn’t lie.

At the moment I don't find a problem in this context, but I'd recommend you not starting sentences with “but”.

He made his way to the penguin exhibit with mittened hands stuck in his pockets.

I like how you're adding to the description throughout the text instead of throwing everything at once! That's surely something I have to work in and you're piece shows it greatly.

The birds huddled together, flapping their wings and crying out in their unearthly voices. Rome liked the birds, but he’d always thought it strange that God had given penguins wings that didn’t work right. It gave him a sort of kinship with them, he supposed. Rome, the boy with the broken lungs. The snow had claimed him, too

This is by far my favorite part! The comparison between the penguins and Rome is something people wouldn't think of at first, so when you say it it gives a hit. I truly thinks it's awesome!

He was stopped by a man, who stood at the doors to the zoo, wearing a zookeeper’s uniform.

I'm pretty sure you don't need the comma after man. I also do this weird pauses sometimes, but your sentence definitely sounds better without it!

I love the connections between the clocks and winter, and Rome and penguins in the end of the story. They really elevate your story! You've got a really great ending! To make the piece better, I'd try to connect emotionally to the reader, unless again, you want a grey feeling in the piece. I hope my critique helps you in any way <3

Bi-daily 19-20 - Figurative Language | 550 words

Self-Portrait
Self-portraits will never look like normal portraits. People will never be able to see you the way you see yourself, or the other way around. When looking at yourself, you have a different lens on; you look at things with a different filter. To draw a self portrait you have to know yourself deeply. It’s not just what you see in the mirror, but what you know about yourself.

People or a mirror might tell you something, but there are things only you know, and there are also things you are blinded to. There will be times when you need to wash in a new view, and outer sources will give you that view. However, there will always be moments when you need to close your eyes to really see yourself. Mixing this stuff is what’ll give you the colors to draw your self portrait. Doing it will take wonderous time. It could take your whole life, because each time you learn something new; a new detail to add to the portrait. As long as you keep living, the portrait will change.

Making your portrait is hard, you have to know yourself to do it, and that’s one of the hardest things in life. Truly knowing yourself is a hell of a challenge. Imagine having to discover every detail about you, all while still living and not over analyzing everything. It’s rocket science hard. In the end it’s something that happens somewhat naturally, but doesn’t come to you naturally. People ask you to give them details about yourself, and you get an artist block. You’re stuck looking at the painting, not knowing what to add to it next or what it’s missing. However, when a wave of inspiration hits you, you draw what comes to you and you create something beautiful.

When doing any work of art, people will always critique it. They’ll tell you “you should do this, you should do that”, and for some reason we listen to them, even if it’s not the best decision. People tell us something about us, and even if we know it’s not true or we shouldn’t accept it, we do. It’s different from letting people show us things we don’t know, and we have the habit of confusing both things. When do you know if it’s true or not? When should you accept it? It depends on who tells you. Why would you take artistic critique from someone who’s never painted in their whole life? They don’t know what they’re talking about. Don’t take any type of critique from someone you wouldn’t take advice from.

Your portrait is also affected by other portraits, just as you affect other people. You’ll take things from them, and they’ll take inspiration from you as well. It’s a give and take situation, everything in life is. Surrounding yourself with people who are alike to you, will give you pieces or details to add to your portrait. You might give them stuff as well, even if you do not notice it or don’t do it intentionally.

Your portrait is your life’s work, it’s what you do stuff for every day. Take care of it, and try looking at it with fresh eyes each day. You don’t know what kind of artistic masterpiece you could make.

Daily 21 - Cabin Inspired Writing | 457 words
Cabin: Fantasy - Where No One Goes

You hurry through the woods. It’s your first week of dragon training and you’ve been late every day. Today, you’re finding your own dragon, the first step into becoming a dragon rider. Pressure is on. Your family is known for having the best dragon riders of all, you can’t be the exception.

As the woods get deeper, voices are murmuring through the trees. You finally arrive at the meeting point, where your two trainers are with all the recruits. There are around twenty recruits, all trying to find their life long companion. Dragons are important to your culture and your people. Ever since the great Hiccup Haddock, dragons have lived with vikings. They are part of everyone’s lives, accompanying vikings through their journeys. Finding your dragon is important, and you hope to be the first one to achieve it.

“Listen up! The dragons which round these woods are not trained at all. It’s your job making a connection with them, and coming out alive.” The first trainer says, “Use what we've teached you. Leave all your weapons behind, and bring a partner.”
“Dealing with wild dragons is no game, and I’m sure your parents expect you back home. We’ll divide you in groups in which you all will have a partner. Never leave them. If you need us, shout and we’ll be there.” The other trainer announces.

You choose a partner among the group and follow one of the trainers. He guides you through a path, giving you instructions and precautions.

“Here is where we divide. Be careful and may you find your dragon.”

As you walk with your partner, you hear something moving through the trees. You signal your partner and follow the noises. They guide you to a gorgeous Deadly Nadder drinking water from the river. You’re amazed by its deadly beauty. Nadders have always been your favorite dragon.

“I’m getting closer.” You tell your partner as you walk towards the Nadder.

You walk swiftly through the grounds, trying your best not to startle it. Having many Nadders in your family, you’re no stranger to them. You approach it from behind, getting close to its tale full of thorns. As soon as it’s in your reach, you begin to caress its tale, giving it a welcome surprise.

“Shhh” You try soothing it as you make your way to its front side, “Good girl. It’s all right.”

The dragon is calm, letting you move near it. You raise your hand and put it close to its head, allowing it to choose whether or not to trust you. This is it, your defining moment.

Please trust me. Please please please.
The Nadder lowers its head, allowing you to touch it.

I did it! I found my dragon!

Daily 22 - Ad for Your Own Creation | 211 words

Hey, you! Yes, you! Indeed, I’m talking to you, you delusional human! Are you one of those people who by just making eye contact know they’ve met the love of their life? Or someone who is sure something will happen just because of a tiny sign? If you are, I bet you go by the famous and mostly right phrases “delulu is the solulu” or “delulu becomes trululu”.
Being delusional is no longer just a phase or something, it’s a lifestyle! Why would you be living by the rules of reason and reality when you can be daydreaming your wedding with the dude from the coffee shop?
I just got a question for you, when is being delulu enough? When is it too much and just an insane level of delusion? No answer? I have one for you. I present the Delulumeter! Five levels of delusion going from “It’s possible, keep going!” to “Are you out of your mind? Go listen to Foolish One by Taylor Swift!” Does it only work for being delusional regarding love? Of course not! Any type of deluluness can be measured with the Delulumeter! Just a click and the next Delulumeter could be yours! Don’t get lost in your delusions, and learn when it’s too much.

Daily 23 - Flower Daily | 819 words
Flowers: carnation (fascination), rose (love), hellebore (madness)

The limo door opened, letting her and her lover out of its confinement. He held his hand for her, allowing her crimson heels to set foot on the pavement. He guided her through the door, showcasing every inch of his home.

“Would you like a glass of wine, my love?” He showed her to the drawing room, where many of his acquisitions were displayed.
“Yes, thank you.” She smiled at him while she looked around the room, “It was not an exaggeration when you said you were a collector.”
“Not at all, I like to have in my possession the finest things in life.” She gestured towards her. She smiled and gave him a small nod of gratitude, “The finest wine for the finest of women.”

He walked towards her, two glasses of wine in hand. He placed the drinks on the small table beside her and pulled a bouquet of flowers with his other hand.

“Roses for the lady of my heart.” He handed them to her, kissing her hand as she took them. She gave a light chuckle before breaking the truth to him, “You are the best, but love, those aren’t roses. They’re carnations.”
“Oh well,” he gulped, trying to find the words to get him out of the small embarrassment, “You could say I’m not an expert on flowers like you are.”
“They’re gorgeous, thank you.” she gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Quick enough for a thanks, but not enough for him to pleasure it, “Would you be so kind and bring me a glass of water?”
“Of course.” He headed out of the room, looking for a servant who could serve his lady water.

She walked around the room, inspecting the artifacts on the walls. They were all so fine, too fine in her opinion. A great number of pieces were worthy of a museum. A piece in particular caught her attention, a necklace with a ruby on the center. Red was certainly her color. She pictured the necklace on her, matching perfectly with the maroon dress she was wearing at the moment; the gold around the ruby contrasted against the deep tone of her dress.

“Ma’am, your water,” a maid entered the room. She handed the glass of water over to her and bowed before leaving.
“Oh the bow is not necessary at all!” She said, it was a bit eccentric in her opinion.
“The lord requests it.” the maid answered, “Anything else I can help you with?”
“Do you by any chance know how he acquires all of these objects, they are magnificent.”
“I’m afraid I can’t answer that question. Instructions from the lord.”
“Well, thank you.” the maid walked out, leaving her with questions about her lover.

She went back to the small couch where her purse was. She took out her phone, finding it flooded with messages. My god. She grabbed her purse and hurried for the entrance. The lord was on the door, talking with two suited men. She clutched her purse, she needed to get out of there and had no time. He kept talking until he noticed her standing there. He dismissed the men and walked to her.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, business called.” He kissed her hand and held it, “Shall we go back?”
“I’m sorry but I have a matter to attend to, I must leave immediately,” she said, “I hope you can forgive me.”
“Leave? You can’t leave.” his face got stern, “I was about to show you my collection.”
“Oh I saw part of it! It’s gorgeous, but I’m afraid this is an urgent matter.”
“Didn’t you hear me? You cannot leave. My collection would be incomplete.” He held her hands tighter.
“I beg your pardon?” she said, and whined at the pressure on her hands. “You’re hurting me.” He didn’t let go. “Please let go of my hands.”

His eyes were expressionless; fixed on her. She tried pulling her hands, but he wouldn’t release them. “Stop!” She pulled harder, this time using all her strength. He let go of her, making her lose her balance and stumbling into a base on her back. The base broke as she landed on her back, scrapping her legs with broken ceramic pieces. Hellerbone. She could recognize almost any flower.

“You’ve got blood on those pretty legs of yours.” he murmured, as he crouched.
“Stay away from me.” She crawled back, trying to keep distance, “I’m fine. I’ll just leave.”
“You’re not leaving.” he said again, “Stand up so someone can clean the blood. Then I’ll show you to your room.”
“My room? You’re crazy if you think I’m staying here!” She exclaimed, “I’m not part of your collection!”
“You are the finest piece of it, and one I’m not letting go any time soon.” He grabbed her hand again, making her stand up.
“You’re insane!”
“I’m a collector. The Collector.”

Daily 27 - Inanimate Object Story | 322 words

It was finally my time to rest. After a day full of the usual crazy I could finally keep my screen off for a while. Today was busy, but I couldn’t complain. I had an average work time each day, around three hours and a half, maximum four. There were unusual days when I reached five, and I remember that one time I worked for eight hours. It’s crazy to think that’s what some of us work each day, it’s too much. Who would need their phone eight hours per day?

Today I was able to take a look into her world, I normally got a daily peek, but today I saw new things. First of all, her. She always takes pictures of herself, quite vain in my opinion. Though that isn’t the worst thing she does, the worst thing is what she’s doing right now.

I am already connected, getting my energy back, and she turns me on again. I was supposed to be resting already! I know I have breaks between hours, but why does she make me work until so late? She turns me on and enters different apps, all making my poor brain work too much for this time of the day. Why would she need to look at videos I took weeks ago right now? I was working hard when I took that video, I don’t need it to replay in my head every day.

After what seems like an eternity–I know it has been ten minutes–she turns me off. She leaves me on my usual spot, face facing down so I can’t wake her up. As if she’s the one who needs rest! Hopefully this is the last time she wakes me up, because I know how capable she is of turning me on in ten minutes. If all is good, I won’t have her holding me until I let that horrible alarm go off tomorrow

Daily 28 - Concluding a Cliffhanger | 404 words

Are you, are you coming to the tree…

Wear necklace of rope side by side with me…

Lucy Gray let the mockingjays carry her song, haunting Coriolanus each step back to District 12. It seemed snakes were really her friends after all. She’d let Coriolanus’s orange scarf fall, covering one of her little friends. She was sure it had bitten him, causing him to yell like that. His rage shooting had made her flee, assuring her he would kill her if the option was given to him. He’d kill Sejanus, she didn’t know how but she was sure of it. Coriolanus wasn’t the boy she met at the Capitol, maybe he had never been. She was better off this way, and it wasn’t like she had an option. She couldn’t get back to 12. Her best shot was fleeing north, hoping she’d find something.

She began walking with no direction or guide, just what she could hope was north. Coriolanus had taken his compass with him, leaving her with no way of knowing her way. Even if there weren’t people living up north, she had to get as far away from the Districts and the Capitol. She knew how to take care of herself, she’d survived the Hunger Games.

“But Coriolanus was there, helping me.” She reminded herself, “He saved my life, but now I’m the only one who can save herself.”

Lucy Gray kept walking, picking up wood sticks as she advanced through the woods. She knew how to build a fire, and it was getting darker. She placed the wood sticks in the shape of a bonfire and began lighting it up. As she brushed two sticks against each other, she started to sing. It was just a whisper, but enough for the mockingjays to follow along.

O’er rough and smooth, she trips along
And never looks behind
And sings a solitary song
That whistles in the wind

She was now just like the girl from the ballad, a mystery going on her own. Everyone would think she was dead, the mayor would make sure of it. There was nothing to prove otherwise. She’d disappeared, and Coriolanus wanted her as good as dead. The Covey, they would grieve her, singing her ballad on their shows. And she? She’d be a mystery never to be found again, just a whisper in the trees.

However, the show’s not over until the mockingjay sings

Weekly 4 - Story Swap | 2335 words

Part 1 - Rare Genres | 1850 words

Cashier Memoir | 232 words
Every Saturday at work is unique, but today was weird in many ways. People go shopping in all types of clothes; pijamas, baggy clothes, tight clothes, semi-formal, and slightly formal, but a floor-length green dress isn’t your normal shopping clothes.

The woman walked to the cashier–I’d seen her walk around the whole Kids section more than once, and she waited in line for a long time–with her three kids. She was completely formal-ed up, makeup, hair and everything. There was a girl in a short black dress next to her, her hair was also done and she was tapping her fingers against her leg.

“We’ll take these,” the lady placed a dress and a shirt on the cashier, “And could you check her? You know, the clothes she’s wearing?”

What- She wanted me to check the clothes while the little girl was wearing them?! I went speechless for a moment, was this lady out of her mind? I tried my best not to break out laughing.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I need her to take them off.” I said
“Really?” she gave an exasperated sigh and hurried the girl to take the clothes off. There, in the register. She was quite good at changing her without her flashing anybody. She quickly handed me the clothes and hurried out of the store.
“Next.” I announced, still processing what had just happened.

Utopian | 226 words

“I just got off the phone with Miss Johnson, she’d like to have a word with you.”
“Thanks Karina, I’ll call her right away.” Mr. Robinson said, “Also, if you bump into Michael could you tell him to bring me my coffee.”
“Sure. I’ll send the new project’s proposals later today.” Karina walked out the door while dialing a number on her phone, “Please send Michael to me when you’ve got an opinion on them.”

Mr. Robinson nodded, his assistant had a lot of work to do. Thankfully, Michael was one of the best out there. Just as he was about to take the phone, an incoming call came. “Amira Johnson, Strall CEO”

“Miss Johnson, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Mr. Robinson said cheerfully through the phone.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but my assistant just told me there is a problem with the Holiday campaign. I’d love to have a more formal meeting over it; she’s trying to schedule it right now.” Miss Johnson said, “This is the first partnering campaign between our companies. I need it to be perfect.”
“And it will be. As soon as Michael comes with my schedule I’ll confirm the meeting.” Mr. Robinson said, and smiled when his assistant came through the door with his coffee, “I’m looking forward to this meeting, have a good day, Amira.”
“Likewise.”

Robinsonade | 272 words
When they asked me, “What would you bring with you to a desert island?” I never expected to be thrown into one. What a way to have my perfect vacations ruined. Lady, would you be up to a challenge? Come come, it’ll be a once in a lifetime experience! Can’t believe I was that naive to accept. If you were thrown into a desert island, what would you bring with you? I took the box of chocolates out of my bag, and popped one into my mouth. At least I wouldn’t be hungry.

I walked through the island, trying to find a source of water. I’d never been trained for this or anything, but I have for sure watched a lot of movies. I needed water, food (done!), a heat source, and a shelter.

“And an S.O.S. sign!” I exclaimed out loud, “I can do this! It’s just twenty-four hours on my own on a deserted island, nothing to worry about.”
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, I could do it and it would be a great anecdote after getting back home.

——-

I couldn’t do it. I had no way to be aware of time, and I had chosen a box of chocolates to bring with me! I could’ve brought my phone, or a book or something else, but I chose a box of chocolates. The worst thing was I had already finished them. Turns out being on your own for a long time brings some stress eating. Twenty-four chocolates down to my belly. Did I know how to find any more food? Did I need more survival skills? Definitely.

Bangsian | 203 words
Ahsoka’s eyes adjusted to the light, allowing her to take a look at the white around her. No matter how much she squinted her eyes, the only thing her vision could make out was white. She began walking, trying to find a path in the maze of light. She didn’t need the Force to know she wouldn’t get anywhere, so she stopped walking. Instead, she sat with her legs crossed and reached out. I’m one with the Force and the Force is with me. Ahsoka took a deep breath, letting in all the energy of the place.

“I’m one with the Force and the Force is with me.” she whispered.

Wherever she was, the Force was all around, and it was strong. She didn’t have to reach out much to feel it. It was a familiar feeling, too familiar..

“Hello Snips,” Ahsoka held her breath as her master appeared in front of her eyes, “It looks like your time finally came.”
“Anakin.” she breathed, “You’re alive?”
“No Ahsoka, you’re one with the Force now. We both are.” Anakin said as he waited for her to realize it.
“I’m dead-” Ahsoka said. Flashbacks came back to her, “I’m dead.”
“You certainly are Snips. Welcome.”

Spy-Fi | 441 words
Joey walked through the dark alley, a black cap and leather outfit making her pass unnoticed. While she made her way to the museum’s back door, Presley was in the van, inspecting all of the cameras and making her way through the museum’s security. She could see Taylor inside the vault, as well as all of the tick marks on the walls. She was really counting on them.

“Try the code now.” Presley said through her communicator, “1-9-8-9”
“Typing the security code right now,” Joey answered.

She typed the code into the lock, which sent an electric touch to her fingers. Presley noticed and began doing her job. In no time she had the door opened for Joey. She stopped as soon as she passed the door. There was a big hallway ahead of her with nothing stopping her from passing, it was too simple. She took a compacted mirror out of her pocket and blew the powder. It revealed purple lasers all over the hallway.

“Well now that complicates things.” Joey chuckled. She was an expert at this, and she wouldn’t let Tay down.

She moved through the lasers, never getting close enough to activate them. When she was out in the museum’s main room, a bunch of display cases lit up. Each of them contained a dress or something symbolic to the world’s Speak Now era. Now they were trapped, just like Tay. Something landed behind Joey, causing an echo throughout the room.

“Quiet!” Joey whispered as she turned around to see Taylor Launter.
“Sorry!” He said

They walked through the glass cases, taking a glance at everything that had been taken from the world by them. A whole historic era ripped out, and today they were there to rescue it. Meanwhile at the van, an alarm blared through Presley’s monitors.

“You’ve got company!” She exclaimed through her comm.

A group of men in black clothes launched at Joey and Taylor. Taylor ran at them, fighting three at a time, while Joey looked for something in the room to take the men out. They used everything they could, leaving the men unconscious. As soon as there were no more obstacles, they hurried through the museum, looking for the vault.

“There!” Joey pointed towards a gigantic vault in the middle of a darkened room, “Pass the explosives.”

Taylor opened the case he had brought with him, revealing three explosives. They placed them on the vault’s door, they irradiated a purple glow after being activated. Joey yelled for Tay to get back and Taylor pressed the detonator. The door exploded into pieces, allowing Tay to come out of her long prision.

Paranormal | 206 words
I flipped through the pages, trying to take a peek into the next few chapters. As soon as I stopped on one page a freezing breeze passed my neck. I trembled and got back to my chapter.

“Sorry.” I said. The ghost who lived in my room hated spoilers. That’s the only reason she didn’t like reading over my shoulder, I always read something from the chapters to come, “I promise I won’t do it again today.”

The marker in front of me began to move over the whiteboard, Thanks. It was the only way for us to communicate with each other, but it had worked for the past months. I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her. That eerie vibe only surrounded my room, the only place in the house where she stayed.

“I’m going downstairs for some snacks,” I said as I bookmarked the page, “I’ll be back.”

The door opened by itself; her way of letting me know it was okay with her and she would wait. I remember the day she didn’t want me going out, the door wouldn’t open at all, no matter what I did.

It was a weird thing for most people, but I was used to her.


Epistolary | 270 words
Journal entry 18/9/22
After months of confusion I think everything is clear. Today was a calm day at school, everything was like it was everyday and I had no extra feelings about it. When I got home things changed a bit. He called me. We talked for hours and hours on the phone, and then he showed up at my house. Everything was perfect.

Journal entry 6/11/22
I was walking at the park today with Layla when I saw him. He was on the other side of the place with his friends. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him. Everything is so awkward I didn’t want to make it worse. I just stood there for a few minutes, looking at him. I’m sure he didn’t notice I was there. Thanks to Layla I didn’t stay too long, she tugged her leash and made me keep walking. I decided to text him when I got home; he hasn't responded yet.

Journal entry 1/1/23
I had so much fun today at the New Year’s party! It’s my first time going to a New Year’s party with my friends and I enjoyed it so much. I wore a black dress I had bought for Christmas sales and wore my hair in a ponytail. We spent a long time at the party. I think we left around three o clock. It’s four am right now and I’m so tired. I thought of him at the party. It’s a New Year and we haven’t talked in weeks. I guess I just have to wait and see what happens.


Part 2 - Swap Story | 485 words
Story for @LUR10934

It’s a wild thought, having women from all the periods together. Modern women, seeing what it was for their ancestors, and past women knowing things have changed for the better. It’s wilder when they talk, when you know what they think and not just what the books tell you.

There was a wide room, and many women from all time periods were there. There were young women wearing jeans, and younger girls wearing long dresses and their hair in a bun. The most interesting part was their conversation, and the realization of things.

“The first writer was a woman?” A XV century girl asked, “Women are not allowed to write, at least not books. We don’t have that type of knowledge.”
“We do now, and I guess she had as well.” A modern woman said, “I died in 2023, and the world is advancing. There’s a woman who wrote books beloved all around the world, and in your time in Mexico there was a writer who is really famous now.”
“That’s amazing, and when did this start?” she asked, “When did women become so important?”

A woman in old military clothing stepped forward, joining the conversation. She was a warrior, from the years 30 to 60 AD. She took a stool and sat next to a Medieval woman.

“We’ve always been important. My people were warriors, and us women were the fiercest of all.” she explained, “My queen fought against the Roman invaders. Women together are pure strength.”
“Not everywhere was like that sadly.” A young woman in Greek clothes stepped in, “We weren’t allowed to vote, we weren’t even considered citizens. We lived to take care of the children and the men.”
“The 50’s were still that,” A woman in a dotted dress said, “We were there to make our men happy. However in the times before, when the wars were going on we were needed. We proved our value by working the jobs men did before they had to leave to fight. They didn’t want to accept our value.”

More women were rounding up the more the conversation advanced. Everyone wanted to know how things had been before and after them.

“We fought to change things,” A woman in the center said, “Our feminist movement was huge. The 60’s and 70’s were our moment to raise our voices. We wanted equal pay for work, no more harassment or violence, higher positions of power, and for our men to help with our children.”
“Even today we keep fighting for that, but things have gotten better. There are women working in top positions, many writers, women voting around the world, girls studying in universities, and women being recognized. The most important thing is we have a choice, we have a voice that gets louder every time.” Many women cheered for that, “There are still things to work for, but we have more equality than before.”

Secret Santa Story Swap for @LUR10934

It’s a wild thought, having women from all the periods together. Modern women, seeing what it was for their ancestors, and past women knowing things have changed for the better. It’s wilder when they talk, when you know what they think and not just what the books tell you.

There was a wide room, and many women from all time periods were there. There were young women wearing jeans, and younger girls wearing long dresses and their hair in a bun. The most interesting part was their conversation, and the realization of things.

“The first writer was a woman?” A XV century girl asked, “Women are not allowed to write, at least not books. We don’t have that type of knowledge.”
“We do now, and I guess she had as well.” A modern woman said, “I died in 2023, and the world is advancing. There’s a woman who wrote books beloved all around the world, and in your time in Mexico there was a writer who is really famous now.”
“That’s amazing, and when did this start?” she asked, “When did women become so important?”

A woman in old military clothing stepped forward, joining the conversation. She was a warrior, from the years 30 to 60 AD. She took a stool and sat next to a Medieval woman.

“We’ve always been important. My people were warriors, and us women were the fiercest of all.” she explained, “My queen fought against the Roman invaders. Women together are pure strength.”
“Not everywhere was like that sadly.” A young woman in Greek clothes stepped in, “We weren’t allowed to vote, we weren’t even considered citizens. We lived to take care of the children and the men.”
“The 50’s were still that,” A woman in a dotted dress said, “We were there to make our men happy. However in the times before, when the wars were going on we were needed. We proved our value by working the jobs men did before they had to leave to fight. They didn’t want to accept our value.”

More women were rounding up the more the conversation advanced. Everyone wanted to know how things had been before and after them.

“We fought to change things,” A woman in the center said, “Our feminist movement was huge. The 60’s and 70’s were our moment to raise our voices. We wanted equal pay for work, no more harassment or violence, higher positions of power, and for our men to help with our children.”
“Even today we keep fighting for that, but things have gotten better. There are women working in top positions, many writers, women voting around the world, girls studying in universities, and women being recognized. The most important thing is we have a choice, we have a voice that gets louder every time.” Many women cheered for that, “There are still things to work for, but we have more equality than before.”