Write the start of a novel...

JoeBrat

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I LOVE Easter weekend. A RAINBOW colored CAT walked into the living room. My poor BABY girl thought it was CHOCOLATE and tried to take a big bit out of it. You can only imagine how the cat responded.

I messed up. Let's try this again.

I watched a partridge pick a berry from the bush only a couple feet from my house. I had a good view of my surroundings. I could see everything through my cupola window on my storm shelter. I quickly put my boots on and ran outside. Finally, we were in luck. The radiation had cleared enough to support life again. Another week and my family would have starved to death.

chapterhouse
silver
hour
amputation
drip

That's better.
 
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Nymtoc

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Ronnie was in trouble—big trouble. As a new member of Kappa Phi Omega, he should have known better than to get drunk again, rampage through the chapterhouse and knock over the fraternity’s guiding spirit, a semi-clothed, silver-painted statue of the god Priapus, causing Priapus to lose a hand. The amputation could have been much worse, Ronnie thought with a chuckle, but the drip-drip-drip of his stupid actions merited more than a chuckle. He was nearing the hour of his expulsion from the fraternity.


gauge
plimsoll
deduce
cerise
discombobulate
 

Mary Mitchell

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Gerry waved off the offer of another beer. "No more draft for me, B'y. Me plimsoll line's been breached tree rounds ago."

Gerry was from Newfoundland, and his speech patterns could discombobulate anyone not from "Da Rock". Experience led me to deduce that Gerry figured he'd had enough to drink, although if the cerise hue that had overtaken his nose was any gauge, he'd reached that stage a lot more than three beers ago. Still, he held it well.

"Welp..." The old man struggled to his feet. "...best be gettin' home 'fore da missus get vexed wit me. Morra?"

"Yep, tomorrow", I agreed. I watched his short, barrel body teeter its way between the tables and out the door.

He turned right, out of sight, and a moment later a car squealed past the bar's window, heading the same direction as Gerry. There was loud "Bang!", and the bar patrons froze as one, as though someone had hit the Pause button, all probably thinking the same as I was: A backfire? But it sure sounded like a gunshot.

petulant
scorcher
transfuse
little
bask
 

Nymtoc

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He couldn’t understand it. It was still April, but this was a scorcher. The temperature had reached 100 degrees F (38 degrees C). He went outside and looked up at the sun. It was almost red. He could settle into a lawn chair and bask in the unexpected warmth, but he thought it might be more than a little dangerous. Once, in Iraq, a fellow soldier had been so badly wounded they had to transfuse what looked like gallons of blood to save him, and the sun—which looked just as red as this—made everything especially horrific. He didn’t want to be petulant about it, but he suspected something was wrong with the planet.


podiatrist
squirrel
presume
machination
olive
 

Mary Mitchell

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podiatrist
squirrel
presume
machination
olive

I was window-drooling at shoes, covetously eyeing a pair of olive suede boots, estimating how many more pairs of four-inch spike heels I could indulge in before my feet needed professional help. I couldn't presume to understand what sort of mental machination would eventually lead someone to become a podiatrist. Why was it "podiatrist" but "pedicure"? Shouldn't pediatrics involve feet instead of children? My mind was wandering. Squirrel.

effigy
nucleus
trod
post
scar
 

Nymtoc

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effigy
nucleus
trod
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scar

She would serve as the nucleus of his plan. Her body—an effigy of Aphrodite—would be mounted on this post, the first of many who would line this wax museum where ignorant fools trod, not knowing of his greatness, thinking they were seeing a sculptor’s statues, not suspecting what actually lay beneath the perfect surface, for his work was so brilliant he would leave no flaw, no scar to show how lovingly he had treated his beautiful victims.
:sword

reevaluate
punk
deflate
primal
tuba
 
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Tobias54

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reevaluate*
punk
deflate
primal
tuba

I'm afraid I'm going to deflate if not reevaluate my primal urge to play punk music on my tuba.

credence
spectacular
reminiscent
melodrama
natal
 

Mary Mitchell

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credence
spectacular
reminiscent
melodrama
natal

The costume director needed something "spectacular". Apparently what Ruby had produced the first time around didn't simply fall short, it was "horrendous". When Ruby Macbeth had become involved in the theater, she'd wanted drama, not melodrama. She wasn't one to swear, but the extremist personalities she had to cope with every day were reminiscent of the openings at the termini of a natal clefts. Screw it, just say it--they were assholes.

The director had summoned her five minutes ago, issuing a shrill "Macbeth!" that Ruby had heard three rooms away. Panting from rushing, Ruby pushed backwards through the costume room door, cradling the newly designed dress she hoped would get the director off her case.

But the director obviously wasn't going to be on anyone's case anymore. There had apparently been someone who hated the woman even more than Ruby did, because the director sat slumped in her desk chair, the front of her sweater saturated in blood from the gaping slash across her neck. Guess the old bat should have given more credence to the superstition that you should never say "Macbeth" in a theater.

sandwich
color
rudimentary
gloating
faint
 

Nymtoc

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sandwich
color
rudimentary
gloating
faint

After climbing for three hours, he was beginning to feel faint. He reached into his rucksack and pulled out what he thought was a tuna sandwich. But it wasn’t tuna. It was a hideous purplish color. Who had packed this rucksack, anyway? It must have been the gremlins. They had begun to torment him weeks ago. Why? The most rudimentary reasoning told him that he had done nothing to offend the gremlins, yet they kept beleaguering him. Why? If he had eaten the hideous sandwich, they would be gloating now. He threw it down a ravine. Even without food, he would make it to the top of the mountain by tonight.

gargantuan
flaccid
dollop
arabesque
slam
 
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Mary Mitchell

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gargantuan
flaccid
dollop
arabesque
slam

Sarah's friends--eight of them, because it was her eighth birthday--were getting out of hand. Margaret decided to rein them in by announcing cake time. She plopped a gargantuan dollop of whipped cream onto the top layer of Angel Food, but the cake was still warm. The voluptuous mound of cream began to slump, flaccid swags drooping slowly over the cake's sides.

Margaret hurriedly sliced portions and served them onto plates before the originally fluffy topping dissolved into liquid. She palmed two plates and pivoted away from the table toward the crowd of little girls, who were engaged in a pretend ballet production involving little choreography and much freestyle leaping, spinning and bumping into each other.

The foot at the end of an overly-enthusiastic arabesque shot up from behind Margaret to slam into her right elbow, flipping the plate from her right hand onto the floor. Barkster, who had been waiting hopefully under the table, leaped to his feet and scarfed up half the mess, then ran into the living room with a paper plate dripping whipped cream. Margaret started to dash after him when the doorbell rang. Through the window she could see Alan, the handsome single father of one of the guests, a man in whom Margaret had an intense interest. Oh, god, why now?

persuasion
alimony
quell
pursuit
flaunt
 

Tobias54

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persuasion
alimony
quell
pursuit
flaunt

Increasing her alimony was not enough persuasion to quell her pursuit to flaunt her ability to make me poor.

regurgitate
eminence
peccadillo
enstrange
quagmire
 

Mary Mitchell

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regurgitate
eminence
peccadillo
enstrange
quagmire

She didn't want to waste the evening listening to some speaker of supposed eminence regurgitate other people's research. She had probably already read the original works. But it was a peccadillo of her husband that she accompany him to any university-related function. The wife was part of the image.

However, it wasn't such petty annoyances that had come to estrange her from the quagmire her marriage had become. There were larger issues, like female grad students. An image of a wife was all she was, now.

particulate
envoy
realism
practical
suspicion
 
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Nymtoc

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“This will be a highly unusual assignment,” Monahan said. “You are to pose as—“

“Pose!” Chu Hua winced. “The last time I posed as somebody, I was shot!”

Monahan cocked an eyebrow. “Because of an unfortunate computer error in Cheongju. Now, we need absolute realism. You must appear to know nothing about government, be interested only in your practical household chores. You need to be totally above suspicion—and without any hint of sex appeal.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

His other eyebrow flexed. “It’s only a role. You will be assigned as the maid of the Botsuanan envoy to Pyongyang, and all you need to--”

“Do I have to sleep with anybody?”

“I told you—no sex appeal. The envoy is known to receive official documents every morning at nine. He reads them and shreds them. Next Monday, he will receive a document from the secret service of Kiribati. Before he is able to shred it, you will substitute something I will give you. We must have every bit of the original document. You cannot allow the tiniest particulate to reach the shredder. You leave tomorrow.”

“And if I refuse?”

Monahan smiled. “I assume you’re joking.”


illustrious
destitute
nasal
blab
Rorschach
 
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Thekherham

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"You've had a fine illustrious career," said Will's friend, Charley, speaking in that irritating nasal voice. "I can't understand why you're destitute now. Didn't you save your money?"

"I thought I did," Will said. "It's my accountants fault. Bob Rorschach took my money and hightailed it to Europe somewhere... Italy, I think. Please don't blab to your friends about this. I'll straighten everything out."


winter
dragon
essential
umbrella
violin
 

Mary Mitchell

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winter
dragon
essential
umbrella
violin

The dragon statue in front of the Wulong Restaurant hissed a dramatic cloud of vapor into the Vancouver winter air. Slushy precipitation--half rain, half snow--was collecting along the untraveled edges of the sidewalk. Shiela ritually stamped the wet from her boots, furled her yellow umbrella and stepped inside. The essential scent of incense greeted her. She wondered idly why the aroma was never that of food. To background strains of incongruous but pleasantly soothing violin music she searched the tables for Victor. Apparently, he was uncharacteristically late.

pelvic
balloon
ingratiate
random
calculate
 

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Never having been on a spacecraft before, she didn’t know whether she should try to obey directions or somehow ingratiate herself with the weird beings. One was applying a device to her head at random places. Another, frighteningly, was approaching her pelvic region. She could not calculate how long she had been on this craft. When she first caught sight of it in the sky, she thought it was some kind of balloon. But within an instant, it landed, and four gray-green, four-armed beings took her aboard.


garble
grant
gazelle
gimmick
glow
 
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Tobias54

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garble
grant
gazelle
gimmick
glow

Through the glow of the garble of falling leaves, he would grant anyone the gazelle was no gimick.

coin
caboose
crib
cantaloupe
casaba
 

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coin
caboose
crib
cantaloupe
casaba


He hadn’t been on a train in years, and feeling adventurous, he made his way through the cars till he reached the caboose. But he couldn’t open its door, and after a moment, a sleepy-looking man opened it and said, “Whatcha want?”

“I just wanted to see the caboose.”

“No passengers allowed back here. This is our crib.”

“Crib?”

“Where the crew sleeps. Go back where you belong.”

“Suppose I offer you a coin or two.”

“You tryin’ to bribe me?”

“If I can’t do it with money, how about...let's see...I could give you a casaba.”

“Not even a cantaloupe,” the man said, and shut the door.


Drain
Meddle
Cantankerous
Hallowed
Zip
 
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Mary Mitchell

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Drain
Meddle
Cantankerous
Hallowed
Zip

The university might be referred to as the "hallowed halls" by some, but to Carl in Maintenance, it was just f**g old. He was well aware of his reputation as cantankerous, and he'd be the last to disagree. Hell, this job would try the patience of a saint. The shit these students got up to. Why they thought it was so hilarious to meddle with the plumbing he had no idea. Now, here he was, with a damn fifty pound toilet sitting in a puddle beside him, armpit length plastic gloves--the ones vets wear for reaching inside the back end of a cow--zip tied around his biceps, reaching down into the main drain for whatever ridiculous obstruction had caused the toilet to overflow this time. He could feel it, but it was a tight fit closing his hand around it. He finally managed to grab an end and haul it out.

Holy shit--no pun intended. It was a goddamn severed ear.

troubadour
presence
drift
lobbed
sequential
 

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troubadour
presence
drift
lobbed
sequential

"Oi!"

The tomato landed right on the troubadour's face with a comic splat. Laughter erupted. Titters, giggles, belly laughs; they pierced the air and the victim's ears. The fruit had been lobbed by a young woman, wearing a pleased smirk that transformed into grins at her friends' praise of her accuracy.

"What should we do, Tom?" Mouse's voice alerted the troubadour to the boy's presence. The boy looked worried.

"Don't fret, Mouse," said Tom as he wiped the tomato's juice off his face with his now formerly pristine handkerchief. "Let's take a short break. I'm sure you're hungry by now."

He heard the mocking voices of the young woman and her comrades drift after them as they picked up their meagre earnings and made their way down the busy street. Mouse took two steps to Tom's one as the older man went through the sequential steps that had lead to the morning's poor performance in his mind. His stomach let out a growl. Mouse's echoed it. He grimaced. The first mistake had been missing breakfast.

"Hurry up, Mouse! Don't want to arrive to find Madam Julie's fine bread all gone, do we?"



¤ warden
¤ exercise
¤ jollied
¤ flesh
¤ vine
 

Tobias54

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warden
¤ exercise
¤ jollied
¤ flesh
¤ vine

The warden jollied in the exercise of his flesh, as he swung on the vine.

Pompus
polite
police
polices
poultice
 

Nymtoc

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pompus (I’m assuming this should be “pompous.” If I’m wrong, sue me)
polite
police
polices
poultice


When approaching the King, who was known to be the most pompous person in the world, Dr. Biddlebottom had to be on his very best behavior. He must be unceasingly polite, and when he applied a poultice to the infected royal foot, he must not show annoyance if the King yelled at him. It was said that one of Dr. Biddlebottom’s predecessors yelled back at His Serene Majesty one day and was promptly escorted from the royal palace by the royal police to the royal place of execution. A good doctor polices himself, he kept telling himself, but as he entered the royal bedchamber, he could see that His Serene Majesty’s face was already livid with anger.


schism
barley
nonsequitur
scheme
carpet
 
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Mary Mitchell

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schism
barley
nonsequitur
scheme
carpet

"Don't you just love it?" Brenda asked enthusiastically.

Gloria didn't really want to open a schism in their friendship, but one definitely existed in their ideas on decor. To Gloria, the barley colored carpet did little for the turquoise and white color scheme of the rest of the room. Barley was more suited for... What was it suited for, anyway? Didn't they make beer from barley? Or maybe it was whiskey. Either one had more taste than this room.

"Want to go for a drink?" Gloria asked.

Brenda frowned at the nonsequitur. Oh, well, it was better than having her frowning at Gloria's opinion of the carpet.

platitude
corny
tempest
lollipop
ruddy
 

Nymtoc

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Of all the corny names! Mercedes Froolington saw no reason not to use her own name, but her agent insisted on changing it to Tempest Lollipop! It was ridiculous!

Of course, being an exotic dancer, she had to accept some of the raunchy jibes that came her way. Even so, she was considering changing agents. Benny, the ruddy bastard, had managed to get her a few good gigs, but now that she was becoming successful, she could get work on her own.

But, damn it, Benny—who never lacked for a cliché or a platitude--had given her the unforgettable name in the first place. Oh, well…


ardent
needlework
mannerism
birch
simulacrum
 
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Zoe R

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ardent
needlework
mannerism
birch
simulacrum

A simulacrum of a birch tree began to appear in her needlework. The only mannerism evident was her ardent nature for the task, but there was something sinister beneath the image.


bloviate
scrumptious
pickle
slippers
crisis