View Full Version : Show Dont tell...

10-21-2007, 05:48 AM
OK, I have been trying my damndest to practice the show dont tell thing. its hard when you are used to doing it the WRONG way. Anyway, I thought we could make up a subject and SHOW it instead of telling the sentence.

Ill start and we should keep on topic of the "tell" sentence. Once you take the "next tell" sentence and show it, then you get to make up a tell sentence for the next writer.

Here we go!

Tell: John was sick.

Show: As John rolled over, he couldnt get the sensation of the spinning room out of his thoughts. He closed his eyes to get away from it, but could still feel the spinning motion. As he opened his eyes and saw the ceiling turning, he felt the urge to give back that case of beer that he drank earlier.

Next tell: The shirt she was wearing was hideous.

10-21-2007, 06:30 AM
Black pants was the only item in her closet that would go with her chartruse shirt decorated with red sequined cardinals. The shirt was a gift from her ex-boyfriend's mother.

Next tell: A man in love.

11-20-2007, 07:25 AM
The very sight of her was enough to turn his heart to mush. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed at one of his dumb jokes, the way her hair curled around her fingers when she was nervous, the way she had to hit "snooze" at least three times before getting up; how had he lived before he knew her?

Next tell: The train left.

11-20-2007, 05:23 PM
The silver El sat chugging on the elevated track, doors open, the stench of diesel heavy in the gray air. The conductor popped his head out of the engine's window. He turned, looking up and down the long platform.

"Wait!" I yelled, racing up the stairway with a sense of doom as the doors banged shut and the train began to inch away.

The house was by a lake.

11-20-2007, 05:51 PM
Rusted leaves floated on the surface, bobbing up and down like tiny sail boats on wind-blown waves. I watched them from the front porch, wondering how cold the water felt on her porcelain skin as she sank for the last time and whether the dying leaves remembered.

Next: Spring sprang.

11-20-2007, 06:14 PM
Like an iguana, he lounged in the midday sun, allowing his body temperature to approach a livable level. Winter just couldn't do that.

Next: The coffee tasted terrible.

11-21-2007, 04:05 AM
Bitter dregs were all that were left in the pot by the time he rousted himself from bed and dragged himself into the kitchen. She'd left without saying goodbye again. He added cream to his cup, hoping it would cut the taste, but after two agonizing mouthfuls he poured the cup out into the sink and headed for the shower.

Nextel:Gail was attractive.

11-21-2007, 04:34 AM
When the tall redhead walked into the room, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Apparently, I wasn't alone. Bill, who sat next to me down at the end, was damn near drooling and Vick, behind the bar, was in danger of wearing a hole in the glass he was drying. By the time she reached the middle of the bar, the song on the jukebox ended and the place was silent as a tomb. All eyes watched the redhead, even the women, and I could tell their appreciation wasn't just for her outfit.

She stopped by the bar-maid's station and put both hands on the bar. "Hi," she said. "I'm Gail."

"Gail." Vick wasn't one for many words but I knew he had been affected worse than any of the rest of us. He put down the glass, missed the bar and he didn't even flinch when it shattered on the floor. "Can I have you--ah, help you?"

Gail grinned, flashing a set of teeth that cosmetic dentists only dreamed about creating. "I'm looking for a guy named Herb. Seen him?"

Vick just stared. After a minute, Bill came to his rescue. "Nobody by that name been in here in a long time," he said, trying really hard to keep his eyes locked with hers--and failing. "We don't get much but regulars in here. Hardly ever, except--well, ah, no. No Herb."

Gail's eyes twinkled. "Except--?"

"Except what?" Bill had no idea what she meant. Vick came to.

"He means except you, Miss Gail. Sorry. Don't know anyone by the name of Herb."

Gail thanked him, flashed a smile at the rest of us, and went out. That was a month ago and none of us has seen her again. But we still talk about how her hips swayed when she walked, the sound of her laughter, the depth of her green eyes. And I swear, when we do, Bill still drools.

Next: It was raining and almost as dark as night when the troop of five girl scouts got out of the van to sell cookies to the retirement village.

11-21-2007, 04:59 AM
"OK, girls, does everyone have a carton? Tie your hood, Jackie, it's still coming down." Barbara herded her daughter Jenny's Girl Scout troop out of her Town & Country and into the evening's nasty drizzle at Shelton Estates. Whose idea was this, anyway? These people were on fixed incomes, they had no money for cookies. But Jackie's mom's parents lived here, and she swore they'd buy a dozen boxes. So here they were, five undersized salespersons, ready to hock their wares to people who had picked this place to live on purpose to get away from kids. With a sigh, Barbara led the girls towards the first of the identical residences in the Estates, trying not to trip over a Jazzy in the dark, and trying not to think of the irony of selling cookies in cookie-cutter houses.

Next: I saw a small dog.

11-21-2007, 11:08 AM
I was seated on my customary park bench enjoying the daily paper when something attached itself to my pants leg. I looked down and found myself confronting a horrible little mongrel, barely six inches from muddy paw to slavering jaw and growling hideously through a mouthful of fiine wool. Its matted fur might have been white once, and it had a patch of brown around one eye, giving it the look of a small and determined bandit. Fearing it had less than savoury intentions towards my leg, I rolled up the paper and swatted at the little demon, whereupon it sat down meekly and cocked its head.

11-21-2007, 12:15 PM
lfraser? How about something "telly" for us to work on?

11-22-2007, 03:18 AM
I'll give another: The bottle was empty.

11-22-2007, 07:31 AM
lfraser? How about something "telly" for us to work on?

Oops! I forgot.:tongue I was already half asleep when I posted last night.

It was dark.

11-22-2007, 08:36 AM
She came back to herself out of a red, sticky darkness. Her eyes didn't want to obey her; she felt pressure on them, like someone had closed them with pennies already. As she crept slowly to full awareness, she became acquainted with the pain that skyrocketed through every sinew in her body. She moaned, and a voice commanded silence, enforcing its law with a sharp blow. She found it easy to slip back into the safety of the darkness.

Next: The bottle was empty.

11-22-2007, 02:26 PM
Draining her glass, she sighed. Which one of his lovers was he with right now? The German blonde who could have been his daughter, or the green-yed brunette who was just after his money? Or maybe that other one, who remained faceless. Holding back the tears that threatened to undermine the equanimity she was determined to cultivate, she reached for a refill but was brought up with a shock on realising that, yet again, she'd drunk an entire bottle over the evening.
Throwing the empty bottle in the pile on top of the others, she walked slowly to her bedroom, where she curled up in bed, alone, the tears her only companion.


The sun was shining.

11-23-2007, 06:56 AM

Nothing but unrelenting sun. It seared his eyes and his flesh until he wanted to claw himself to shreds. All around him was nothing, nothing but the sun reflecting off the endless universe of sand.

Next: My cat is pretty.

11-26-2007, 11:05 PM
Accompanying herself with melodic purring, Kitty preens herself with meticulous care. She knows she is stunning, white fur contrasting with black spotches, giving the world the impression that she spent her time cavorting with careless but famous artists.

The food was good.

11-29-2007, 02:36 AM
He inhaled deeply, savouring the scents that hung around him. "How could I have put myself through this torture".

He paid the blonde behind the counter and with a cheery "Thanks!" walked swiftly out into the frosty night air. He was eager but still he reverently peeled open the paper package.

"Next time", he said to anyone who would listen "Fish and chips are included in the diet."

Next: The clock struck one

11-29-2007, 03:54 AM
Jake flinched at the sound of a gong, just once, then the chilly hall was again filled by the almost silence of the pendulum's hollow tock, tock, tock. He cursed the old grandfather clock. In the dark, if he hadn't heard the clock chime midnight, he could never tell what time it was. The gong sounded just once on the half-hour too. To know for sure, Jake would have to turn on the light and that might awaken Helen. But he had to know. He flicked the light on briefly. The minute hand was just about to cover the hour hand.

"Jake?" Helen's voice, sleepy. "Is that you?"


It was so cold that the river froze.

11-29-2007, 07:44 PM
His nose was frost-bitten, of that he was sure. The frigid wind howled, threatening to kill even more pieces of his body. If only he could find shelter.

There...across that clearing...a light. Maybe a cabin. Maybe a fire. But it had to be warmth! On painful feet, he left whatever shelter the trees had been giving. Fifty yards across the barren expanse, he clearly heard a crack. The ground beneath him shuddered.

Next: She said, "Hi, Bill"

11-30-2007, 06:43 PM
There was a slight lift of one eyebrow, then her eyes moved languorously over Bill's body, his welcoming grin, well-defined pecks and six-pack abs, arms he could not help but flex. Then with slow deliberation, she continued on below the belt.

Bill stood before her feeling every bit as naked as the day he was born.

"Helllo, Bill," she said.

Next: The new day has begun.

04-01-2008, 07:45 PM
The alarm clock buzzed. Robert opened his eyes, and turned away from the bright sunlight reflected from his bedroom window. He pushed his blanket off of him and sat up, slowly rubbing his eyes. He checked his clock, 7:14 am. After placing on his blue mouse slippers, he sauntered out the bedroom door, looking forward to yet another typical day at work.

04-02-2008, 11:14 AM
I walked over to get a better look. Years ago, the stone carving had stood high on the cathedral, looking over the thriving town. The town was now a village and the cathedral now a ruin, drawing fewer tourists every year. Instead of the town it once protected, the stone angel's eye saw only weeds and moss.

Next: The mouse was unafraid.

04-02-2008, 11:26 AM
Sweat poured off my nose in salty drops as the gray, hideous rodent bared it's needle-sharp teeth. I stamped my right foot on the floor hoping the thing would back down. The mouse answered with a loud hiss, arching it's back until it seemed the spine would snap into a thousand bony shards. I was cornered and trembling from the heat and the hellish creature's threatenings. With little sustenance to be had, the situation was coming down to one thing- it was going to be either him or me.

Next: Joe blew up a balloon

04-02-2008, 12:06 PM
The boy's face reddened as he attempted to push his lungs to expel the last of his air. He held on tightly to the little rubber neck of the balloon, and watched his father over the red horizon that seemed to only be doing anything but growing.

"Attaboy," his father cheered him on. "You can do it. I got faith in you, boy." However, even for all of the faith, Joey did not seem to be doing so well.

"Joey, do you need some help with that?" His mother leaned forward to take the task over.

"No, Magg," Joey's father said. "It's his birthday! He wants to prove that he's a man, right, Joe? You're a big man now, right?"

Joey tried to nod, sucking air in through his nose, but less each time. In any case, it still seemed utterly useless. His mind was fuzzy, and his legs were wobbly.

"George, I think maybe we could just, even...stretch it out a bit for him. Ya know, loosen the rubber? Even a big man needs a little help some time."

"Maggie, listen to me," said George. "I know what I'm talking about." George turned to face his wife. He needed to have a talk with her, but it just wasn't right to do it here in front of the kid. The kid, however, was turned slightly away with his eyes barely open.

"Maggs, I remember when I was his age. I had the mouth of a shark, and the lungs of a bull. The first thing that I did on my tenth birthday was prove that I could blow balloons up just like a big man." He leaned in closer to his wife, almost lovingly. "Trust me, this is what's right."

They both turned around. Looked down. "Ooh, you know..." George said, eyeing his red-faced son as he rolled slightly on the ground. "Maybe we should get him some help."



The glass was half full.


04-02-2008, 11:39 PM
There was an olive in the glass – green and stuffed with something or other – floating in the mixture of melted ice and diluted tequila Bloody Mary. She reached down, trying to grab it with her fingers, but she couldn't reach. She didn't want to finish the rest of the half-drunk cocktail, but she still wanted the olive. Too bad. The spoons were all in the dishwasher, covered with detergent and hot water. She's be in hot water, soon, she was sure.

Karen Duvall
04-03-2008, 01:04 AM
The amber liquid filled the glass midway, just to where the frosted etching of flowers marched in circles around the crystal. Petals touched stems, which touched leaves, then on to petals again. A reflection of flowers floated on the whiskey's surface like a wreath.
The cat lay by the fire.

04-17-2008, 01:37 PM
Purring in contentment, the tabby rolled over just enough to let the warmth of the pine-fed flames soak into his tummy. He stretched, opening one eye, a silly grin under his russet nose made him the epitome of self-indulgence.

The mouse sniffed the air.

04-22-2008, 08:18 AM
The tiny grey rodent walked slowly across the floor of the kitchen. In this house, he’d learned which animals to fear and which were harmless. There was the sleepy dog watching with disinterest and the yellow cat. Nose up, the mouse caught the scent of something dangerous – then he ran.

The lightning hit something nearby.

Moon Wolf
04-23-2008, 01:23 AM
Rose twisted the blanket in her hand and looked out the window again. It was getting bad. Real bad. The rain was pelting the window much harder than it had a few minutes before, she was sure of it. It'd been like this for over an hour and a half -- when was it going to let up?

The sky lit up yet again, throwing shadows all over the room before disappearing in thin air. Rose pushed back the heavier blanket and put the tips of one foot on the floor. Thunder crashed. It was getting bad.

Her stomach suddenly wasn't agreeing with the soup she'd had for dinner anymore. Her eyes were glued to the window, seeking out the familiar shapes behind the pane in the yard below. Nothing looked familiar anymore. It was bad. Not even Ancient, who'd weathered every storm she could remember since she was a child, had any control over the whipping of its branches.

A huge bolt of lightning lit through the sky, and Rose knew before she heard it something had happened. There was the sound of an explosion, of objects crashing to the ground. One hand flew to her mouth while the other crushed itself to her ear. She sprinted to the window. It took a moment to undo the latch, and when she finally got it the wind threw it open. Burning tree limbs littered the ground.

Ancient was gone.

Next: The boy spots his lost dog.

04-23-2008, 10:21 PM
Charles had been searching for hours. He had ventured further from the safety of his culdesac than he ever had on his own. "Chopstick! Here boy. Chopstick!" Charles called out with all of his voice. He walked until the paved streets became gravel and the gravel roads became dirt. The sun had gone down hours ago and Charles found himself cold, hungry, and lost. He let out one last cry before he laid down. "CHOPSTICK!". He reached into his pocket and pulled out a big blue collar with a tag on it that read Chopstick. Charles cried himself to sleep that cold night. When the morning came, the ground was blanketed in snow. Charles body lie motionless beneath the snow.
The wind twirled and formed a vortex over Charles body. Charles' soul was sucked up in the vortex and carried to the great beyond. The great beyond actually looked and smelled a lot like a Chucky Cheese fyi. Charles thought to himself that the name was quite an overstatement. He dove head first into the ball pit and bumped into something furry. Charles pushed the balls out of the way and realized it was Chopstick. "Chopstick! I knew I would find you!" Charles said. "Look a##^ole, I peed on an electric outlet to get away from you. My name is RoofeepRooofroof now! Either address me as that or stay the hell out of my ball pit!" responded Chopstick/Roofeeproofroof

Next: The son of a great and wealthy man denies his fortune and opts to live on the streets

04-24-2008, 12:21 AM
Mark stared at the check his father had written him. Ten thousand dollars. He shook his head and looked up at the dark sky, hoping for some answers. When all he saw were the tops of the skyscrapers, he dropped his eyes and started down the city street. Back and forth, back and forth, the check meanwhile burning the skin of his fingers.

He passed a homeless man who was shivering in the cold, standing beside a metal garbage can rubbing his hands over a dying fire. Again, Mark shook his head. There were real people out there that could use this money, but instead his father threw it around like it was as common as the weeds he paid his gardener to dispose of.

Mark stopped walking and realized he didn't have anywhere to go. The only place he could go was his father's mansion in the Hampton's, but there was no way he was going there.

He cringed under the stare of the homeless man and knew that he must look like one of them in his expensive leather shoes and three peice suite.

He looked at his check again, and an idea began to form in his mind. He didn't know what would happen, but he knew whatever did would be better than what awaited him in the Hampton's.

Slowly, he stepped toward the homeless man. The man jumped back, and his eyes widened.

"Please, don't be scared." Mark held out the check. "This is for you."

The homeless man eyed the piece of paper in Mark's hand, then looked back at him, his eyebrows raised.

"It's a check. Ten thousand dollars. And it's yours on one condition."

The man said nothing.

Mark took a deep breath. Better do this now before he lost his nerve. "This money is yours if you switch places with me."

Next one: The security guard senses an intruder.

Mr Flibble
04-24-2008, 01:17 AM
Bob started awake and wiped the drool from his chin. He turned a bleary eye at the clock. 3am. Jeez. He settled more comfortably in his chair and lay the magazine back over his eyes.


What was that? Bleep. He dragged the magazine off and looked round. Maybe that was what had woken him, that muted little bleep. What in the hell was it? Bleep bleep. A little red light was winking at him conspiritorially, one he'd never noticed before. Wink wink. Bleep bleep. Under the light was a handwritten label. Back door. Oh crap.

next one: A devout [insert religion here], he had a crisis of faith that made him question his whole life

04-24-2008, 01:51 AM
The rosary clutched in her cold dead fingers, a plastic pose if ever there was one, could not have been redeemed by chains of gold or diamonds.


Got a match?

04-24-2008, 01:31 PM
The last little flicker had gone out, taking the visions of hope with it. The little girl dropped the burnt out lucifer and slumped against the wall, the box was empty, the night and cold was all she had left.
(nods to H.C. Andersen)

The net caught on something.

04-24-2008, 04:15 PM
Dark clouds were moving in quickly across the horizen. The wind had picked up and was tossing the small boat precariously against the growing swells of ocean.

Anxious to get back to shore before he was caught in the storm, George tugged on the net, but it was stuck. He peered over the side of the boat but could see nothing through the dark waters. Frustrated, he pulled again, this time harder. Still, the net wouldn't budge.

The sound of thunder clapped so loud George felt it vibrate through his veins followed by a bold of lightening that streaked across the sky, casting an eerie green light across the grey expanse of sky.

Heart racing, he pulled as hard as he could on the net, finally pulling it free. He yanked it up over the side of the boat, out of breath and sweating despite the chill in the air. He fell backwards with the effort it took to pull the net aboard, and his heart stopped altogether when he saw what he'd scavaged from the depths of the sea.

A large treasure chest had spilled open into his boat, revealing gold that sparkled even in the growing darkness.

And buried with the gold was a large, bloody hand, severed at the wrist.

NEXT: A young mother stops to smell the roses.

04-29-2008, 11:29 PM
NEXT: A young mother stops to smell the roses.

For a long time Sarah watched her child sleeping. The sunlight made a square that filled half the bed. Sarah's arms were crossed. She uncrossed them and touched the edge of the sunlit square with one hand while the other extended downward, completely relaxed.

Next: A small man has a very bad idea

04-30-2008, 12:18 AM
OOooh! can I play?

Next: A small man has a very bad idea
Lil Mike's best friend Bob was an idiot. Being a midget wasn't a bad thing. No not at all, Mike thought. He glanced down the aisle of the showgirl convention.

Maybe he could pass himself off as Mini Mee's handsomer cousin. Yeah...that was a good one, 'usually worked. He strutted up to a group of gals decked in sequins and feathers and didn't halt until his breath brushed one of the supple tan thighs.

He looked up with an innocent smile aware his chin was only centimeters from heaven. "Where's the line for Mike Meyer's extras?"

Next: Mark drank his coffee.

08-10-2009, 05:12 AM
Mark drank his coffee.

The noise level had escalated. The city was letting out for lunch now and the little cafe bustled. Waitresses in white shirts and black aprons moved swiftly between small, tables pushed close together and patrons that were slow to move and bumbling. The jazz music, soft through the speakers was lost now to most. Not to Mark. He sat at the counter along the glass at the front of the cafe and listened through the noise. He sat with other loners, paperback readers, some who wrote in notebooks.
One of his favorites was playing. Stardust. Glenn Millers version. Smooth as silk, he thought. He wasn't someone to sit and listen to music at home. He preferred it like this. He preferred the serendipity of hearing something he liked when he wasn't expecting it. And he liked the background noise. The clanging of knives and forks on plates, the waitresses calling back to the kitchen asking where they're orders were, all of it. It brought the music alive he thought. Made it more a part of ones life.
"More coffee?"
"Thank you, yes." He liked his waitress. She was sweet and sincere.
Stardust faded out, then Take Five by Dave Brubeck. "Beautiful."
With half closed eyes he listened, tapping a light finger on the counter. He listened for almost the entire song. All around him people went on with their lunch, their socializing, their reading.
He looked at his watch. He clasped his hands on the counter, took in an easy breath and held it.
An explosion - a fireball at the building across from the cafe propelled a shower of glass and small brick rubble into the street. The sound Shocked. It terrified. Thick smoke poured out the storefront and climbed up the building. It was the little jewelry store, Menkins. People in the street screamed and ran hunched over, covering their ears and the faces of their kids. In the cafe, people gasped and screamed and stumbled for cover and huddled at their tables and craned their necks to look out. At the counter, people leapt back away from the glass. Not him.

Next: Helen went straight at him.

08-11-2009, 07:00 AM
Helen went straight at him.

Most of the women in the whorehouse were too drunk to exercise much discretion. Beer goggles on, they'd embrace the first male who happened into their meandering paths. Helen, on the other hand, was a teetotaller. She made no apologies for the type of man she sought. He had to have money and lots of it. Her nose for cash rivaled those of the finest perfumeries and when she spotted her mark that night, she closed the gap between them with laser beam accuracy.

Next: He was the silliest person she'd ever met.

08-25-2009, 10:14 AM
Next: He was the silliest person she'd ever met.

She wasn't looking for trouble.

They'd warned her when she left the house that if the principal called them, there would be hell to pay, and she believed them. A lifetime of making up stories about falling down the stairs or bumping into doors (or, in a rare burst of creativity, slipping on People magazine and toppling into the basement) had taught her that they spoke only in the most literal terms.

Still, the boy in the seat ahead of her was trying hard to make her laugh. He kept passing back notes;

Man, would you look at the nose on Mrs. Whitefield.

Do you like me ( ) Yes ( ) No

Looks like Steve's Mom dressed him again. I don't think I need to tell you which one's Steve.

Or little drawings of the teacher as a stick figure with an enormous nose. For a seventeen-year-old, the boy was certainly immature.

Still, she was terrified she would laugh any minute, and when Mrs. Whitefield sent her to the principal's office, it would no longer be funny.

Next: He had bipolar disorder.

08-25-2009, 08:50 PM
The sky was gorgeous and birds were singing, but even though everything was right with the world, Jack was quickly spiraling into a suicidal tirade. He couldn't figure out exactly what he did that ruined his life that day, but he vaguely remembered it starting out wonderfully. He woke up with such energy and vigor, and even made it to work early that day. The sun on his face on the drive in to work was absolutely stimulating and every person he said "hello!" to on the way into the building seemed to beam back at him. Now all he wanted to do was hide under his desk and cry until night fell and that wonderful deep, deep sleep took over his weary body. He thought "Sleep, O those little slices of death how they... oh I'm so lame I can't even remember a stupid quote about depressive sleep!" As he trolled over his day planner and looked at the list of appointments ahead of him, the tears welled up in his eyes... his life was so horrible now that he couldn't even cancel his afternoon appointments, because he suddenly remembered what it was that ruined his beautiful day. His favorite pen broke.

09-22-2009, 12:18 AM
Crap! I killed it!!! I killed the thread!!! ARRRRGH!

Ok. Sorry. I didn't post a 'next'. Here it is:

Next: She went to the dressing room to try on her potential prom dress.

10-20-2009, 06:45 AM
Rayn gawked at the purple ball gown. Her mother couldn’t be serious, she just couldn’t be! No way could Rayn wear that to prom, it was entirely too...Barneyish.

“Rayn, go on now. Go try it on.” Her mother shoved the atrocity into Rayn’s unwilling hands.

“But, mom-”

“No buts, Rayn. Go try it on right now.” Pursed lips indicated the subject was closed to all further discussion.

Dejected, Rayn plodded into the dressing room, dragging the potential humiliation on the floor behind her.

Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad, she tried to convince herself. After all, the thing was a step up from the Big Birdish get-up her mother had first forced her into trying.

Next: The paint on the door was peeling

11-28-2009, 08:07 AM
She slammed the door behind her, turned the lock and backed away. She saw the futility of locking the door. The panic rose up in her and she struggled to stay calm. She flipped open her phone "Low Battery". She knew it was low before she went to bed and now she admonished herself for not plugging it in. Lazy.

She dialed 911. The phone beeped just as she hit send. "Oh please, please, please, please." Silence. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." What started it? How did it happen so fast. "911, please hold." "Yes, I'm at - No! No you can't! Don't do this!" Now panic rushed up through her, tightening her throat and flooding her eyes. "No, no, no." Silence on the phone. She fought hard to calm herself. She coughed. Her eyes back to the lock, it hit her "They won't be able to get me." She turned the lock back open. Her hand jerked back away and she cried out in pain. So fast. She couldn't believe how fast.

The phone beeped again. "Answer the damn phone! Please!" It was getting hard to breath. She took the phone away from her ear and looked at it. She laid it on the edge of the tub, soaked a towel in the sink and scrunched it up against the door. Instantly it hissed and whistled. Then it registered - a faint voice. "Hello. Hello, is there anyone there?" "I'm here," she yelled. "I'm here, don't hang up." She leapt back at the phone. "911, what is you emergency?" "I'm at 1815 South Burke Street-" The lights went out and she started. "Oh no. The lights just went out -"She coughed and coughed. When she stopped the phone was silent, inanimate and she new before she looked at it that the battery was dead.

She cried quietly into her hand then went to the bath tub, the amber glow through the sides of the door showing her the way through thick, swirling smoke. Only now did it occur to her it was not raining outside; what she was hearing was the crackling of flames devouring her house.

She turned on the cold water, put in the stopper and climbed in. She shivered in the cold water as sweat dripped down her face and tasted of bitter smoke on her lips. She stared at the silhouette cats on her shower curtain. She got out, pulled the hand towel from the rack then crouched back into the filling tub, wringing the towel with both hands. Did they hear her? Are they sending help? She focussed on the cat closest to her. "It's okay, it's okay"

The sound out there was a roar now. The roar of an angry beast ripping apart the world to find her and annihilate her. She wasn't sure if she could hear sirens or was it a trick of the beast. She tried not to look at the door. It swelled in and out. The beast had sniffed her out and was now breathing heavy at it. She tried to quiet her coughing. The roar suddenly got louder, faster, more ferocious and she new it was attacking at the door to get to her. The water rippled over the edge of the tub and ran towards the door as a last defense, hissing and turning to steam. The paint on the door now finally began to give in and she new it fought as long as it could and she did not blame it.

NEXT: He new better but he went anyway.

08-14-2010, 10:00 PM
Looking back - what a terrible prompt to kill a good thread. How about I try this again.

Next: Derek swung as hard as he could.