Pouring Raining Riboflavin

To write a poem
is to light a roman
candlelight in the night
From one side of a parallel
In which it fell
Down we go, down
The rabbit hole of nothingness
Attempting to grab a hold
of fireflies on the other side
Of the darkened moon.
A room unchanged in
Memory, so vividly that never happens
Dampened by a a number
The same on that you can
Call a roman candle
Moonlight, flight of a bird
In the nighttime
Consecutive, back to back
What's here that you lack
Better find out
Before the roman Moonlight
Of the roman candle, goes out.

Short Story: The Short Story about the Short Story

A short story was running through the woods. She was on her way to grandma’s house. Her motivations were unclear, but her mood was not. Neither was the tone of her chipper whistling.

            The trees of the forest were like columns of brown marble holding the sky. Carved inside the side of each of the trees were tall figures stretched to the wildest proportions possible.

            A thick and tall man stumbled from the woods with a leather coat wrapped around his blockish body. “Little girl. You cannot go into the forest alone. You need to take a magic sword, or otherwise you will be attacked by ghosts,” the man said.

            “No time,” the short story said. She didn’t have time for talking, because she had to continue forward at a rapid pace.

            Clouds appeared overhead, quickly impregnated by hot white lightning. In a flash they broke water, hindering the girl. She was lost, but she was never alone. The cold came closer to her, attempting to strangle the life out of her. It froze the rain against her skin, stiffening her body to a full bright blue stop.

            The basket that had been under her arm fell, causing a white blanket to cascade from its wicker confinement. Floating atop the fabric was a candle. Its scent was marked on one side. “Winter morning.” The short story’s skin was illuminated by the sun passing through the clouds, giving her a warm white glow to her otherwise cold body.

Best Silly Idea (probably)

People like reboots of movies! People like heist movies! People like board games! People like adaptations of things they love!

So, steps to success?

1. Crate board game about stealing board game collection.

2. Adapt that board game into a movie.

3. Adapt that movie into a board game that is a movie tie in.

4. Reboot the original movie into a movie about stealing a board game collection comprised of the board game from the step above.

5. Create an adaptation of the movie, into a book about a group of people actively trying to steal the board game from the stealers.

6. Create a movie crossover universe where the original movie's  team is resurrected from the original board game, from a secondary universe in which the original movie lies in.

7. Create a team based board game in the style of capture the flag, where the flag is board games.

8. Make billions of dollars.

Mayo of Devil Tahown

 Could you make a deal with the Devil? Probably not. Though the contract was sitting right in front of you, you still decided to push it back to her. “I’m against this.”

            “Are you sure?” The Devil said with a flame licked smile.

            “I’m 100% sure,” You say back. The people in your line clapped and cheered you on. The walls fell away, leaving you standing on a register set in a much larger hanger.

            Sitting in a chair holding a megaphone, was another version o f you. The version of you winked, and then vanished into shimmering dust. “Cut!” Someone yelled. A short man waddled towards you with a cigar in one corner of his mouth and a sucker in the other corner.

            “see, yar spose ta take de deal. It’s sorta the whole pointa dealin’ wit the Devil. Wer makin’a movie, so itsa portant dat we catch ya choosing ah deal.” The flicked his fingers, nd the walls leapt back into position. “Ya got it? Make daedal.” The man smiled.

            With one hand, he pointed a shiny gem into your face, and you instantly forgot what had transpired. You rubbed your eyes, trying to get your composure.  You vaguely heard someone breathing in front of you.

            “Ahem,” you hear someone cough. Once you regain your sight, you seethat the Devil is standing before you. She was offering you a contract. Could you make a deal with the Devil? Probably not.

            “I’m against this,” you say to the Devil.

            “Are you sure?” She asked

            “I’m 100% sure,” you say.

            “I strongly suggest that you take the deal.”

            You shake your head, and in one final glance, you catch a glare from a silver gem. It hits you scare in the chest, and you begin to burn away. “This one is defective,” someone said.

Exercise #11- Probababylee

So you've got a good idea? Well. Let's take a step back. You want to write a book? Sure. Take a step back first. First, wrote a haiku that your character would write. Your protagonist. Now, wrote a hiaku response from your antagonists. Go go go! This will help you get their motivations in few words. Test your limits.

Invention? Wacky Wednesday

So, we have these arbitrary competition shows right? Where the people get overly involved in the back story and competition between people who have a skill like the ability to sing. This all gets plastered all over the internet. We also have shows where people compete to get investors to put capital into their inventions. Why don't we mix these things? We could have a competition show where America decides the winner, and the winner gets some amount of money. But instead we tackle big issues that need solved, like feeding world hunger or something. Then people can compete by pitching their idea. Some of the final rounds would be implementing their ideas. This way we have a competition show that helps people. We get entertainment and betterment as a society.

We could call it: Our Reality Show

Running out of Time 11

Chapter Three

Space to Grow

I had realized that I had all of the time in the world to go on my date with Ketchup. I mean, I was wearing cursed, and/or magical shoes, so there wasn’t really a way that I could be late to the date. As I was walking to my date, I contemplated how I had easily accepted that I could travel through time with shoes.

            Okay, but seriously, none of that stuff happened. I just went inside and convinced Jones to sell me the shoes for double the price. Rather than pay for one shoe and get one free. They weren’t magic at all. It is just eloquent storytelling. I probably had you going, but I was only inconvenienced for a minute or two.

            I arrived to the restaurant ready to eat. Haggling had really burned a hunger into my stomach. The only thing that I remembered was that she had hazel eyes, and that she would be wearing a red sweater. A quick scan, and I thought I saw Ketchup sitting in a nearby booth. As I approached, I noticed that who I thought was Ketchup was actually Anthony.

            “Did you already forget about me?” He gestured to the open seat across from him.

            “You aren’t real. I just imagined you,” I said to him.

            Anthony took a sip from his drink and laughed. “It isn’t that simple. Time has you trapped in a pocket reality for its amusement. Time cares a great deal about getting a good laugh, then it does about the battle with space.”

            I was starting to realize that everyone inside the restaurant was only pretending to be eating. They would bring their forks to their face without food, lightly touch their faces, and then repeat. They were acting suspiciously like robots.

            “How have I never noticed?” I asked.

            Anthony leaned over to grab a shard of glass from the floor. “Do you remember the table disappearing. My glass fell from where it was. Do you remember that at all?”

            “No. What are you talking about?”

            Anthony swiped his foot over the broken glass. I formed back into a cup and levitated back onto the table. The table flickered off again and the glass fell once more to the floor. “You forget things that are unnatural. They are basically edited from your mind to keep it pure. You act as if you have just seen stuff for the first time. You only retain very basic things. For instance, you know who I am, but do you remember where we met?”

            I attempted to figure it out, but I honestly had no idea where I had met him. “What are you then?” I asked. Reality shifted dramatically and everyone was standing including us. It shifted again, and Anthony and I were on opposite sides of the table, sitting now.

            “I’m from the distant future. Outside of the bubble. Be careful because Warren is here too.” Everyone blinked and they were standing around us, they were still shoveling nothingness into their mouths. “I should go.” Anthony took off running and vanished through a wall. I was left standing with my mouth agape. Then, reality shifted again and the mindless robots were eating again.

            It is so easy to fool you. I actually walked up to the booth, and Ketchup was munching on a piece of bread. She had python sized arms that showed through her tight long sleeved shirt. I actually wondered how she could hold bread so delicately. It was like watching the Hulk hold a bunny.

            “Are you…” Oh no, I had forgotten that I didn’t know her actual name. I’d have to play it off very smoothly. “…here for a date?” Nailed it!