5th quarter 297

Tearing into knee high corn and explosions the prompt, and latest challenge offered to thee rough riders galloping up the stillness was the following:

June 29, 2016 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that explores human needs. Not all needs are basic. Why would others put a price on basic needs, like water? Or perhaps you want to explore why a person might develop a need in order to survive a situation (like a miner needing the companionship of a prostitute). Think about needs and not having access or being in control of them.


———-Respond by July 5, 2016 to be included in the weekly compilation. Rules are here. Rules are here. All writers are welcome!———


5th quarter 297 by Elliott Lyngreen

{Ya know it’s horrific world of noise}, silence is the only thing getting through… Hang a head so huge without body. So shrunk/hyper-shriveled…..sooo Ohh whizzing, the imperial teen waking repeatedly into the trapped sense of being and feeling; rediscovers limitations…confusion… then….well -just gets fearless {thus such Nonsense}; so unlike writers stuck to recreate a character so awful so grotesque as … {let us just leave to} making us feel sorry wretched when placed in context in thee lore.. {to tell here of a perpendicular mark to the purple crayon}.. Chance reflects about arguments faced everyday…..{the island scream …hollow shouts..}

When the only thing worth stealing from the crowds of steel wired through him {stuffed scarecrow circulation, stressing -fractured} he musters to convince…—-He just a smiling {that’s right} blasting beauty of being, yet thee rotting character {developing right between eyes, the known and unknown reader begins to admire}; who’d rather use an entirety of fiction to explain {though that’s excitement}…but rather not. Crashes flash, rips enigmatic enough to a cool five portions {quite naturally understated shatter} letting it stew and brew, letting it sit and sink and stink noses and furrow brows ripe wrought with angry wrinkled eternity;

{oh .ho ho… now that will bend them, everclear}. To take a stand. Takes ground. The character we hate. Destroys separate essential answers/needs {who gives} but between mind and body. Physical and mental pinches pulse { Damn damn damn them all for not believing. hearing. comprehending}. He is mere soul willing to sacrifice for thorough examinations {cut me into little pieces} – thoughtlessly records. {I’ll explain as much as I can until the end; but you’re on your own after that world.} and those.. {Ahhhh you glorious faulty twists} flux and glitter/flutter a flash and a piece of work.

-that excellent snag of unease always lingering before he barely spins around sneaks in the access of precisely sharp conjuring. Rail tracks streak, tucking road dipped under viaduct; the metaphysical, the never settling or endlessly ricochet shakes of the handful of baneful scattershot abandonment on each side street; clasps like some image of thought…together, a true piecing back perhaps of the ultimate and certain {direction} unraveling every neighborhood/village – creates Chance’s character {before fire water or shelter one needs a body}…gouged opened spray cans {oh lord give us echo, meaning}. He’s beneath a tree writing {the rest, still racing}


Thanks for reading. God Bless. All comments welcome (but not always approved=).



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