This week's genre is Western. Your story may be serious or light hearted or as silly as you like just so long as it is 100 words or less
Four horseman, burst straight from the Bible, they rode with no gear, just a vow and a tent.
Four families they left in the East Texas clay in four graves that would never relent.
No more left to lose, one last gamble they took with an oath to their very last breath.
They slept in the saddle, their stock starved for water each river brought both life and death.
Not the beef or the money, four wolves at their backs, a dead hand with the devil they play.
At the railhead they looked down the river of steel, and three started back the same day.
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Comments: 74
No one seems to know that when it's prose, the words conform to standards of grammar and syntax that poetry has license to reject.
. . .and vice versa, Moon lol
three came back~which one was the fortunate one and does fortune evr even apply to such a circumstance~
I like it when literature does that to me, maybe it's because I never finish a book. . . except yours, of course.
You said "go down" roflmnwao
Give you another couple-hundred words?
It's foreign territory for me, using meter and rhyme, but I could go a few more stanzas.
Then there's the question of the surreal... I like that your words conjure viewable imagery, a semi-surreal experience; from author to audience.
We like your work Guy...keep it coming. The Circus
The thing is, I can't draw, I have to make the picture somehow.
Here's mine, if you wish to read:
Revenge
Featured in the Triple Name Club.
. . . and did you get the meter?
I chose the same as Dangerous Dan McGrew, for the western flavor.
u l u u l u u l u u l u u l u u
four horse-men burst straight from the Bi-ble they rode with no gear just a
l u u l
vow and a tent
four horse-men burst straight from the Bi-ble they rode with no gear just a vow and a tent
But it doesn't help that people don't read out loud anymore.
I do the same thing read aloud when its a good read!
Great job on your genre.
"I turned the gas down, I got into bed. I said some words to the close and holy darkness, and then I slept."
You have to read that out loud.
Auntie Hannah, who had got on to the plum wine, stood out in the yard singing like a big-bosomed thrush.
Ghosts whooed like owls in the long nights when I dared not look over my shoulder; animals lurked in the cubbyhole under the stairs and the gas meter ticked.
Well, he found himself a fair maiden...oops, wrong genre :) he opened a bar ??
Ernest Shackleton said when men face extreme hardship at peril of their lives, there are some who will do anything to go right back to it. Several of his men were survivors of Scott's ill-fated expedition. He found ways to raise money for one Antarctic endeavor or another and was finally buried in McMurdo Sound. Amundsen disappeared on an Arctic rescue mission amid rumors that he was bored and looking for a way to die. Maybe the fourth horseman just wasn't that kind.
You are just too clever for me :)