A Writing Exercise: Themed Short Stories
- Thread starter TheOriginalWhitehorse
- Start date
w00t! go me! i finally have something. yes, it's true. i actually have two something's because i got on a roll. don't worry, they're less than 500 words each. well, the second one's 517 words but that's nothing. before i post here's something for the original topic. short and sweet.
ok, now to the other topic. that topic being "lost".
first one:
Hailey tapped her pencil against the desk, a frown creasing her forehead as she glared down at the test before her. Pre-Calculus was slowly becoming her demise. Logarithms to be more specific. She sighed and stilled her pencil, gripping it tightly and rereading the question.
11. Suppose that x=logA and that y=logB. Write the following expressions in terms of x and y.
(a) log(AB)
(a) log(A³ * √B)
(c) log(A B)
She lowered her pencil lead to the paper and paused, blinking at the question once more, What? What kind of question is that? Is there even an answer for something like that?
Chewing on the end of her pencil, she glanced around the classroom. The other students were studiously scribbling away on their tests. With a grimace, Hailey pulled the pencil from her mouth and started tapping it against the desk once more as she shifted in the hard plastic chair in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. The clock above the blackboard at the front of the room told her that she had twenty more minutes on the test. Someone near the front of the room coughed quietly. Papers rustled as a few turned the pages on the test. The genius of the class rose to his feet and pencils stilled. All eyes turned towards him but he didnt seem to notice as he walked confidently towards the teachers desk with his test in hand. The class seemed to hold its breath as he slowly placed his test face down on the desk. His fingers left the paper and the students hunched over in their seats, once more scratching furiously at their tests. Hailey rolled her eyes and picked up her tapping again, Its not a race, yall.
The boy next to her leaned across the aisle, whispering, Can you stop tapping your pencil? Its distracting.
Oh, sorry.
The boy grunted and turned back to his test, ignoring her. She looked at the problem that was causing all her anguish. It was mocking her. She could tell. It existed only to cause her frustration and pain. She wanted to wail. She didnt get it. She didnt understand it. It was useless. She was lost. She might as well give up and admit defeat. She let her head fall to the desk, ignoring the other students who had finished and were merrily skipping up to turn it in. It had to be a conspiracy. The world was against her. Mathematicians were out to get her. Tears were stinging at her eyes and she squeezed her eyes shut. She would not cry. It would get her nowhere to shed tears. She had to finish. She wouldnt let the mathematicians have the last left. She took a deep breath, lifted her head, and read the problem once more.
- - - - - - - - -
and the second:
So, here I am. Out in the woods in the middle of nowhere with nothing but my hiking boots, the shorts and t-shirt I have on, and half a canteen of water. Its getting on close to midnight and before you ask, no, Im not camping. What am I doing? Well, the simple answer is that I was hiking. What Im doing now? Thats debatable. I guess you could say Im conserving my energy or that Im star-gazing but its cloudy and I have energy to spare. You could also say that Im Snipe hunting in the forests of northern California. That would be a lie though. Im geographically misplaced right now. In short, Im lost.
Yup, me, a seasoned hiker, is officially lost. I admit it now. I had denied it at first. I mean, who wouldve believed it? I never get lost but here I am, alone in the woods in the middle of the night and completely unprepared. I shouldve learned. I was always told to Be Prepared but Im not. It was not in my plans to get lost today. I didnt ask for it to happen. I didnt ask to take an unmarked trail. I didnt ask to get so lost that I couldnt find my way back. And I certainly didnt ask to fall down a small cliff type thing and break my leg. I didnt ask for a lot of things to happen to me in life but theyve happened and now I have to deal with it.
Its kind of weird to be out here by myself. Gives one a lot of time to think things over. Makes you wish youd done things differently, you know? I know, its only been a couple of hours but when you dont know where you are and youre injured you think a lot. Theres so much I want to do with my life. Normal things. Like, get a pay raise, get married and have a family, and eat more ice cream. I really love ice cream. Especially mint chocolate chip. Thats my favorite.
I can hear things out here. Not weird things, just nature things. I can hear the wind stir even when its not strong enough for me to feel. The leaves rustle with it. Its like the forest is alive. The nightlife is loud. You probably think Im crazy. Everyone says how peaceful and quiet the forest is at night. Its not. Its loud. Crickets, frogs, owls, mice, snakes, wild cats, and wolves all come out of hiding and add their song to the night. Its nerve-wrecking to hear a twig snap nearby but not be able to find the source of the noise. The pain is the worst though. Every time I move my leg its like a thousand little daggers stabbing my flesh. Its indescribable.
Maybe when morning comes Ill drag myself back up that cliff I fell off of. Maybe Ill find my way back to the Rangers Station. Maybe my life will be changed. Maybe Ill eat a whole bowl of mint chocolate chip ice. Maybe
- - - - -
okay, i know they're not the greatest but i wrote them both in the span of about 20 minutes.
ok, now to the other topic. that topic being "lost".
first one:
Hailey tapped her pencil against the desk, a frown creasing her forehead as she glared down at the test before her. Pre-Calculus was slowly becoming her demise. Logarithms to be more specific. She sighed and stilled her pencil, gripping it tightly and rereading the question.
11. Suppose that x=logA and that y=logB. Write the following expressions in terms of x and y.
(a) log(AB)
(a) log(A³ * √B)
(c) log(A B)
She lowered her pencil lead to the paper and paused, blinking at the question once more, What? What kind of question is that? Is there even an answer for something like that?
Chewing on the end of her pencil, she glanced around the classroom. The other students were studiously scribbling away on their tests. With a grimace, Hailey pulled the pencil from her mouth and started tapping it against the desk once more as she shifted in the hard plastic chair in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. The clock above the blackboard at the front of the room told her that she had twenty more minutes on the test. Someone near the front of the room coughed quietly. Papers rustled as a few turned the pages on the test. The genius of the class rose to his feet and pencils stilled. All eyes turned towards him but he didnt seem to notice as he walked confidently towards the teachers desk with his test in hand. The class seemed to hold its breath as he slowly placed his test face down on the desk. His fingers left the paper and the students hunched over in their seats, once more scratching furiously at their tests. Hailey rolled her eyes and picked up her tapping again, Its not a race, yall.
The boy next to her leaned across the aisle, whispering, Can you stop tapping your pencil? Its distracting.
Oh, sorry.
The boy grunted and turned back to his test, ignoring her. She looked at the problem that was causing all her anguish. It was mocking her. She could tell. It existed only to cause her frustration and pain. She wanted to wail. She didnt get it. She didnt understand it. It was useless. She was lost. She might as well give up and admit defeat. She let her head fall to the desk, ignoring the other students who had finished and were merrily skipping up to turn it in. It had to be a conspiracy. The world was against her. Mathematicians were out to get her. Tears were stinging at her eyes and she squeezed her eyes shut. She would not cry. It would get her nowhere to shed tears. She had to finish. She wouldnt let the mathematicians have the last left. She took a deep breath, lifted her head, and read the problem once more.
- - - - - - - - -
and the second:
So, here I am. Out in the woods in the middle of nowhere with nothing but my hiking boots, the shorts and t-shirt I have on, and half a canteen of water. Its getting on close to midnight and before you ask, no, Im not camping. What am I doing? Well, the simple answer is that I was hiking. What Im doing now? Thats debatable. I guess you could say Im conserving my energy or that Im star-gazing but its cloudy and I have energy to spare. You could also say that Im Snipe hunting in the forests of northern California. That would be a lie though. Im geographically misplaced right now. In short, Im lost.
Yup, me, a seasoned hiker, is officially lost. I admit it now. I had denied it at first. I mean, who wouldve believed it? I never get lost but here I am, alone in the woods in the middle of the night and completely unprepared. I shouldve learned. I was always told to Be Prepared but Im not. It was not in my plans to get lost today. I didnt ask for it to happen. I didnt ask to take an unmarked trail. I didnt ask to get so lost that I couldnt find my way back. And I certainly didnt ask to fall down a small cliff type thing and break my leg. I didnt ask for a lot of things to happen to me in life but theyve happened and now I have to deal with it.
Its kind of weird to be out here by myself. Gives one a lot of time to think things over. Makes you wish youd done things differently, you know? I know, its only been a couple of hours but when you dont know where you are and youre injured you think a lot. Theres so much I want to do with my life. Normal things. Like, get a pay raise, get married and have a family, and eat more ice cream. I really love ice cream. Especially mint chocolate chip. Thats my favorite.
I can hear things out here. Not weird things, just nature things. I can hear the wind stir even when its not strong enough for me to feel. The leaves rustle with it. Its like the forest is alive. The nightlife is loud. You probably think Im crazy. Everyone says how peaceful and quiet the forest is at night. Its not. Its loud. Crickets, frogs, owls, mice, snakes, wild cats, and wolves all come out of hiding and add their song to the night. Its nerve-wrecking to hear a twig snap nearby but not be able to find the source of the noise. The pain is the worst though. Every time I move my leg its like a thousand little daggers stabbing my flesh. Its indescribable.
Maybe when morning comes Ill drag myself back up that cliff I fell off of. Maybe Ill find my way back to the Rangers Station. Maybe my life will be changed. Maybe Ill eat a whole bowl of mint chocolate chip ice. Maybe
- - - - -
okay, i know they're not the greatest but i wrote them both in the span of about 20 minutes.
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Thanks for the post! I like very much.
Mine isn't that great since I just slammed down whatever was on the top of my head, but I did say I was going to post something, so here it foes.
John stood in Grand Central Station in his tux. He glanced feverishly to and fro, ignoring the mix of dignified nods in his direction, chuckles, and whispers. He knew his girlfriend's change in plans for their small, quaint wedding ceremony was a mistake, but she had her heart so set on it that he ignored his reservations and gave in to her pleas. After all, he was late for his flight and didn't have time to argue. So he had scrawled her instructions on a tissue, forcing the tip of the pen through the coffee he had just used the tissue to wipe from the table, and ran to catch his flight.
But now he stood standing in the middle of Manhattan, his fiance's City of Dreams, without a clue as to where he was going.
It's okay, he told himself as he squinted in an attempt to read the writing on the frail tissue, the one he'd dropped in the puddle outside his apartment complex. Only a few people had been invited, so it wasn't like a whole sanctuary full of distant relatives would be sitting there speculating about why the groom-to-be had gotten cold feet. He forced out of his mind the thought of his girlfriend's disappointmet, her notions of abandonment, and the anger he would endure-if she was still at the small church, still waiting for him.
He remembered her voice quivering with excitement as she described the charm of the small white church in the City of Dreams, surrounded by bright city lights that so illuminated the night sky that you couldn't see the stars. If you looked down from the skyscrapers, it looked as if the stars had fallen out of the sky and sprinled themselves like diamonds around the city.
Focus, he told himself. Where did she say to go? Think about the conversation. He looked at his watch. The ceremony was scheduled to start an hour ago, and all the information she had relayed to him on the phone while he was out of the country had bled into a blue pool on the wet tissue he held in his hand.
He tried asking for help, his hands shaking as he asked people in the vaguest terms where the sweet little white church with roses in the front was. He didn't even remember the name of the church, but tried to describe it as best as he remembered her telling him. People stared blankly at him and walked away.
As he stepped out into the light to see if anyone could help, a cloud blew past and left him standing in the shadow. He looked good in a tux. But he was in a shadow.
Finally, he decided to go home and grab his day planner. Maybe someone who wasn't going to the wedding still knew where it was taking place. Maybe someone could call the church and let her know he was coming. Maybe...
He ran back into the station to buy a ticket back home, and as he headed for the ticket booth, a train passed. Jutting out from underneath the door was a white shock of lace, the kind you find on a wedding dress.
He called her name, but of course she didn't hear.
Mine isn't that great since I just slammed down whatever was on the top of my head, but I did say I was going to post something, so here it foes.
John stood in Grand Central Station in his tux. He glanced feverishly to and fro, ignoring the mix of dignified nods in his direction, chuckles, and whispers. He knew his girlfriend's change in plans for their small, quaint wedding ceremony was a mistake, but she had her heart so set on it that he ignored his reservations and gave in to her pleas. After all, he was late for his flight and didn't have time to argue. So he had scrawled her instructions on a tissue, forcing the tip of the pen through the coffee he had just used the tissue to wipe from the table, and ran to catch his flight.
But now he stood standing in the middle of Manhattan, his fiance's City of Dreams, without a clue as to where he was going.
It's okay, he told himself as he squinted in an attempt to read the writing on the frail tissue, the one he'd dropped in the puddle outside his apartment complex. Only a few people had been invited, so it wasn't like a whole sanctuary full of distant relatives would be sitting there speculating about why the groom-to-be had gotten cold feet. He forced out of his mind the thought of his girlfriend's disappointmet, her notions of abandonment, and the anger he would endure-if she was still at the small church, still waiting for him.
He remembered her voice quivering with excitement as she described the charm of the small white church in the City of Dreams, surrounded by bright city lights that so illuminated the night sky that you couldn't see the stars. If you looked down from the skyscrapers, it looked as if the stars had fallen out of the sky and sprinled themselves like diamonds around the city.
Focus, he told himself. Where did she say to go? Think about the conversation. He looked at his watch. The ceremony was scheduled to start an hour ago, and all the information she had relayed to him on the phone while he was out of the country had bled into a blue pool on the wet tissue he held in his hand.
He tried asking for help, his hands shaking as he asked people in the vaguest terms where the sweet little white church with roses in the front was. He didn't even remember the name of the church, but tried to describe it as best as he remembered her telling him. People stared blankly at him and walked away.
As he stepped out into the light to see if anyone could help, a cloud blew past and left him standing in the shadow. He looked good in a tux. But he was in a shadow.
Finally, he decided to go home and grab his day planner. Maybe someone who wasn't going to the wedding still knew where it was taking place. Maybe someone could call the church and let her know he was coming. Maybe...
He ran back into the station to buy a ticket back home, and as he headed for the ticket booth, a train passed. Jutting out from underneath the door was a white shock of lace, the kind you find on a wedding dress.
He called her name, but of course she didn't hear.
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