The water was clear. The Captain held the glass aloft for the crew to see. So far, so good. The riotous lot seemed somewhat calmed by the sight. It was purely a temporary respite.
"Aye, for sure it *looks* clean," said one of the braver sailors. "But I can't merely believe that won't poison us all just like what was in the barrels before. And, beggin' your pardon, we can't be drinking no seawater, no matter what fancy magic you do to it."
The Captain sighed. The two sailors lost to the poisoned water had caused an uprising, it seemed...
The water was clear. Wavy, but pleasant. The type of water you'd enjoy skipping rocks across. But this was not a time for horseplay. Nothing was in sight, nor had anything been in sight for the past 3 days. Floating, bobbing up and down in the middle of nowhere. How did this happen?
The water was foggy. You couldn't see all the way to the bottom, but you could see halfway through. The smell coming from the glass was very relaxing and a good start to a wonderful vacation away from it all. The clouds in the sky looked dark....
The water was clear. It was really vodka in her glass, though. Tonight she was getting wasted, for sure. Today's class lectures and her shitty breakup with Owen had Tonya crying about every 20 minutes in her dorm room, and she would run out of class like she had to go to the bathroom, but throwup and sob for about 5 minutes and nonchalantly go back to the lecture. Now she was at O'Callaghan's downtown and her vodka on the rocks was getting the job done, for now. She liked drinking straight, it got her drunk faster. Next she would...
The water was clear! 30 long years of work and finlly the whole barren wasteland could expirience an new life. we had acheived the most important feat for the rebuilding of world. now the whole world could focus on mo
Lionel Richie was running naked down the street.
We saw him while driving to the donut shop. At first, I didn't think it was Lionel. Last time I saw him was grandma's birthday. He was there singing "Dancing on the ceiling." He actually tried dancing on the ceiling but then he fell down and hurt his little head. The police blamed it on gravity. But that's another story.
I had Mike stop the car. Then we both got out. We ran up alongside Lionel, who was running naked through Mrs. Benson's rosebushes. There were thorns embedded in his buttocks.
"Hey,"...
Holly scrutinized the first sentence of her novel. It was odd how not reading it for months had given her a wildly new perspective. When she was writing it, she'd been too close to the material, she hadn't been objective, hadn't made herself consider the fact that she was wrong in anything that she did. There were mental grooves worn deep in her mind that only now were swept away like footprints in the snow.
It ... sucked.
The ecstasy of seeing her work in print was instantly deflated by how awful she judged it to be. A single sentence...