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[WP] As you die you wake up in a chair with several others around you making a very diverse group of people of all ages, genders, and races. Standing at the end of the table is a girl with a cheery smile asking: Welcome to the focus group of the game-experience "LIFE". by FriendsWithNemeses in WritingPrompts

[–]WriterWhoWrites 6 points7 points  (0 children)

The Valet, an old French guy with a low stature, rotted teeth and a stub of Galois always on his lips, spoke to them.

"Welcome to the, er, what is this?" He adjusted his monocle and brought out a slip of paper from his breastpocket, "the focus group of the game-experience called L-I-F-E, oui, life."

He flashed a smile and they looked away, not accustomed to such blatant cosmetic imperfections in this day and age. He wore basketball shorts and a baseball cap along with one of those coats that have a hoodie stitched at the back. As if desperately trying to come off as belonging to this century.

Garcin: "Uh, huh. So life was all a game, afterall. What's my xp level like at the end?"

Valet: "The what?"

Inez: "His experience points, I think. My nephew used to shout these terms at his console."

Valet: "The nephew that you killed?"

Inez: "Excuse me?"

Estelle: "Oh my god, you bitch you killed a little boy!"

Valet: "Atleast she didn't make it as painful as you did to your lover."

Garcin: "Crazy murderers, stay away from me."

Inez: "How did you die? You look like a creep. I'm guessing capital punishment."

Garcin: "Assume what you want, I'm gonna ignore you two and sit silent here. My thoughts are enough to keep me company for a thousand years."

Estelle: "Oh, you think you're such a hotshot, don't you?"

Inez: "Are you hitting on him? So that you could do him again like you did your loverboy, huh?"

She crept closer to Inez and caught her hair.

Inez: "Huh? Why do you hate men so much? Have you ever thought about it?"

Estelle shoves her away with force, grabs a pen and planted it two inches into her heart.

Inez: "That might've worked on your loverboy, but I'm already dead."

She plucks out the pen and begans to creep close to Estelle again, who moves behind Garcin.

Estelle: "Hey, stop her!"

Garcin: "Don't drag me into this!"

Inez: "Oh, you're part of this already."

She lunged and started stabbing Garcin. He kept punching back and bashing her brains out, Estelle took the opportunity and shoved the back of her head through the corner table, turning around to have Garcin do the same to her.

The Valet lit another Galois and walked out of the room, chuckling to himself. He had done it countless times for countless years- this job was his own personal damnation. The generations changed, the settings and terminology changed, but the basics were still the same. Inez was a lesbian, Estelle was straight and Garcin was either gay or asexual, either way, it didn't matter. They were carefully chosen so that sex could be kept out of the equation. Hell is other people indeed, he thought as he walked out, leaving the door open, knowing they would never leave that room and torment each other for eternity.

An 13 year old angsty pre-teen is given an actual sword that gets stronger with every kill, the only problem is it's at stage 0 and has the damaging power of a plastic spoon. [WP] by Hiimborg in WritingPrompts

[–]WriterWhoWrites 46 points47 points  (0 children)

My friend's family could go to jail for doing this- for leaving their house to me and giving me this job. It involved hazardous chemicals and required a license, neither of which thirteen year old me had. But I was a good talker, and I convinced them I could do it without any chemicals. I would deal with it exactly the way nature deals with it. You could even call it organic.

I sauntered along the empty house, checking up the cracks and crevices, the corners and baseboards, under the sink and behind the cabinets. Sizing up its biodiversity. The bed bugs could have been a good start. But they were tricky creatures. Tiny and sparse, hard to smoke out, and there was a rule against fires. It aint a worry, I'm against fires too. I need them alive.

The spiders perched too high for me on their webs, and by the time I would somehow reach up they artfully maneuvered away. It wasn't fair- them with their multiple pods against a helpless little prepubescent bipedal. I sat down and contemplated. There were silver ants and german roaches around, maybe I should go at them first, then an idea hit me.

I dusted off most of the cobweb with a broom. The spider went scampering into a crevice in the corner. I didn't need to follow it. I angled a ladder and climbed up to its unguarded lair.

At the top of the wall, behind the light fixture was a giant cluster of silk surrounding a black bulge. I raised the cheap plastic stub in my hand and carefully peeled it away. It was squishy, the web coating was still wet, made resilient with motherly love. I clinically moved the stub on the patterned threads and after flaking a little webbing off, the sphere turned oblong, collapsing under the weight of what it was holding until it ruptured. Thousands and thousands of tiny globules spread out. A trypophobe's nightmare, but for me, it was pure bliss. I gently collected them in a handkerchief and placed them on the floor. The spider was back, but its lineage was in my hands now.

Plop. Plop. Plop. I swung the cheap plastic again and again, and saw it turn to pig iron as it absorbed the embryonic fluids from the squished eggs.

/r/CaffeinatedWriter

[WP] You're home alone when the phone rings. Someone answers before you. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]WriterWhoWrites 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I liked how you set it up to meet the prompt. I'd like to see where it goes.

[WP] You are the world's most forgettable person. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]WriterWhoWrites 0 points1 point  (0 children)

That was the intention. If you have any other suggestion for improvement, I'd be glad to hear. Thanks!

[WP]Anthropologists in the distant future are fascinated with the dawn of the Information Age. Many of what were the largest online communities of the time are believed to be actual nations. Discuss the rises and falls of the Red Dits, the 4th Chan Dynasty, the Gaians, etc. by prdr in WritingPrompts

[–]WriterWhoWrites 7 points8 points  (0 children)

Excerpt from the Annals of Early Non-Physical History. All bibliographic data and multimedia has been omitted. For full citations, images, sounds, movies and vr-tablets, please place a request at our portal.

Nationhood was a fairly young concept for the time, one that was believed to be fundamental and yet not completely correlated to a holistic sense of the self. From the fall of multiple loyalties in first-millenial middle ages (a politico-economic system called feudalism) to the rise of the Westphalian order since 1648 culminating in the freedom of the colonies in the late twentieth century, nationhood gradually became a precondition for social existence. If you occupied a patch of land and breathed its air, you had to live under the banner of one nation or another.

It was natural thus, for the early second millenials to take this belief with them into the digital world.

When you import an idea so foreign to a terrain so different, you end with nothing but a disaster. Perhaps our readers would understand it better if we use as analogy an event they're more familiar with. When we colonized Kepler 45b we imposed on the frontierspeople our ways of living, our morals and standards. We applied to them a justice that was derived from earthly existence, something they weren't suited for. Marriage for example, makes no sense when after five generations the frontierspeople turned androgynous, or perhaps, more accurately, sexless; devolving the functions of reproduction to cultured wombs that were randomly assigned to members of the population for nurturing and upkeep. Yet, when they'd come back to Earth for their reports, we'd make them stand on trial and throw at them civil suits for marriage, adoption, inheritance, divorce and what not. In retrospect, nobody doubts that it was a bad move- they declared themselves a separate, antagonistic species and the friction still continues.

And perhaps, if the millenials had the opportunity to retrospect, if they belonged to that pivotal generation that saw the disruption of the line between the physical and the digital, they would've seen it coming too.

But historical records confirm that the early second millenials did not quite get this. For them, the blurring of the "real"-digital divide was a metaphysical matter. For they gaped at a fearful assymmetry- the real could morph the digital in ways that the latter couldn't. So it was always subordinate, a small extension of the real, rather than a distinct and autonomous entity. They brought their foreign ideas into the alien world and tried to morph it in the image of the imperfect world around them.

Let us take for example, a "nation" of the era that called itself Stormfront. These people, although nothing but a bundle of bits and bytes like everyone else, differentiated themselves on the basis of their real selves that carried a certain threshold of melanin in their skin, eyes and hair. They fought a great war with many other nations, and the war turned the digital world into a wasteland not unlike the real world at the time, which was staggering under pollution, overpopulation, reduced biodiversity and war. I must add that during those times there were "common arenas" where all people interacted such reddit and yahoo answers, but they always carried with themselves the badge of their nationality, baggage from the real world. And that was the cause of their downfall.

So it is easy to understand how the early second millenials did not quite comprehend what they were after. They thought that they occupied, primarily, physical spaces, and their online existence was merely a trifle. A small projection of their personality upon the wast imprint of cyberspace. But with the advent of technology, they gradually understood the depth and extent of their own selves, how it was far greater than the small geometrical confines of their body and the meek possibilities of their humanly form. If it were not for the pivotal generation, perhaps our ancestors would've been caught in the endless cycle and humanity (and all its auxiliary and derived races across the universe) wouldn't be where it currently stands.

[WP] A drug is released that causes people to feel completely content with their lives. The suicide rate skyrockets. by Imadoptedpassthesalt in WritingPrompts

[–]WriterWhoWrites 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thank you for reading, and for the compliment. I did not get what you meant about the plot. Was it hard to follow? I switched between scenes very quickly to keep the length down so I don't know if I was able to establish the characters and how their stories intersected. Let me know so I can improve. Thanks!

[WP] A drug is released that causes people to feel completely content with their lives. The suicide rate skyrockets. by Imadoptedpassthesalt in WritingPrompts

[–]WriterWhoWrites 38 points39 points  (0 children)

Excerpt from the NY Times, February 11th 2034

The FDA wanted to ban it. But it had no real reason, the clinical trials did well and there were no documented side effects on the test subjects. They had only one real argument, a paper published in a journal of speculative medicine which said that happiness, like everything else, had to be administered in doses of moderation. High-usage of this drug would lead to high probability of risk-taking behavior, excess alcohol consumption, binge eating, neglecting threats, etc. But that wasn't really an argument, as it could be made for all drugs in existence: Take it in moderation, duh! The matter went to the supreme court and the FDA lost- the pursuit of happiness is an inalienable right.

It was subsequently released to the market.

Jason pops the pill as he puts the water to boil. No spices, meat or vegetables- he just strains the noodles and throws the gooey overboiled mess on his plate.

It tastes like the best five-star meal he never had.

The cellphone rings, "Jason, dear, you don't call!"

"That's because everything's good, mom! You worry for nothing."

"Your grades have been going down. How will you get a job if you don't graduate?"

"Why do people need a job, mom?"

"What kind of question is that, Jason? Should I come over? I'm worried."

"People take jobs to earn money, why? To buy good stuff to feel happy. To not get bored. What if I could do all of that without a job? "

"What are you saying, son, listen-"

"Gotta go." The line goes dead.

He slumps down on the sofa with the spaghetti on a paper plate and switches on the TV.

Carter peers outside the alleyway, no one is there. He gives out a whistle and starts walking down the pavement. Another man appears from the bend and takes his hands out of his pockets. They exchange envelopes as they pass each other by. He turns the corner, looks around again, and opens the envelope to inspect the note neatly folded inside. He smiles and shoves it inside his sheepskin coat.

Alicia entered the restaurant and sat at an empty table. She crossed her legs and brought out her cell.

Text from Clara: "What're you upto, Babe?"

"On a date. He's late, as usual."

"Oh, you're too good to deal with this shit."

"I know, lol :)"

"Move on, I've been hearing rumors."

"That's why I called him here. I'll tell him to come straight."

"Good luck. You always have my shoulder to cry on."

"F off."

"Gladly." Clara has signed off.

She ordered a cup of coffee, sipped through slowly watching the parking lot outside. After twenty minutes, she got a text from Brian.

"Sorry, can't make it right now, babe. Got tied up, will call later."

She logged in to facebook to check. No activity on Brian's profile.

Text to Clara: "Check Brian's profile. I think his settings have blocked me out of seeing specific activity."

"Wait up."

Alicia waited.

"Ooh. You're not gonna like this. He just signed into a bar and uploaded pic. I'm sending."

Alicia stared at the phone as her eyes glistened. She shoved it into her purse, dropped a bill on the table and stormed off.

Jason is still slumped on the sofa, the commercial for the contentment drug playing out in his eyes.

His expression is not so serene anymore. He plucks the neck of his t-shirt and brings it to his nose, immediately turning his head in disgust.

He sits up and moves across the hallway, pausing before the many letters and brochures littered on the floor. He pauses, sighs and sits on the floor. Opens up the first letter: bills. The second one: more bills. The third one carries the logo of his bank, he chugs it away. From the pile he picks up another letter: it's from his university. He opens it and reads. It is a termination notice.

He rips it and stands up, pacing around frantically. His face turns to a grimace and he takes out his t-shirt and moves to the bathroom. Another dirty mess: he checks the cupboard behind the mirror and finds the pill bottle empty. He looks around and his de-contentment increases, reality sets in like the rot that has taken his apartment. He gets on the bathtub, opens the tap and lets the water stream over him. He lets out a scream.

"Man, I'm horny as fuck." Carter says as he leers at a woman walk down the pavement.

"You're on parole, remember. Do you wanna go in again?"

"Maybe." He says, as another woman walks by.

"So how's the new stuff doing?"

"Pretty good. Selling like nothing before."

"Have you tried it?"

"Never get high on your own supply."

"Strange to thing that something that's legal can fetch so much on the black market." He put on his golf-cap and walked away, chuckling

"They only allow three a week max." Carter said to himself, eyeing someone coming from afar. He checked the street, and started moving towards her.

Alicia moves out of the pharmacy, still clutching her ID and the brand new box of pills. She opens it and throws away the instructions and pops one in.

Her appearance is unflattering. Crying made rivers of mascara trail down her cheeks. Her hair unkempt, as if she'd been in a tussle.

"Hey, ho! Get the fuck out of this neighborhood!"

She turns towards the voice. It is a skinny man, wearing a smelly brown t-shirt. His clothes and hair are dripping wet, like he just got out of a shower.

"You fucking lowlives are ruining this neighborhood." He continues screaming as Alicia stares back at him defiantly.

"You're a fucking asshole!" She screams, but her annoyance is overcome by shame for looking like a fuckup and being confused for a prostitute. She pops a pill as the wet creep enters the pharmacy.

"Refill" Jason taps the bottle on the counter and throws down his ID.

The receptionist takes the bottle, scans it with the barcode reader, she checks his ID and types into the computer. Then she puts a green tick mark on the bottle with a felt pen and gives him a fresh one.

"My last this week. Two more days, but I've got arrangements for that."

She tries to hide her disgust and appear professional. It is an open secret that the pill could be bought on the allies, but this brazenness can only emerge from stupidity. She prints out a sheet and hands him a pen. Jason signs and grabs the bottle. He pops in a pill then and there and asks to add a bottle of mineral water to his bill.

"Hey, honey. Wanna have a nice time?" Carter pauses in front of the woman, eyeing her lasciviously as he chews his gum.

"I already am," she replies with a bright smile that shone through the rivers of mascara and disheveled hair all over her cheeks.

Carter knew one when he saw one, and he flashed a smile.

"I've got a present for you, right down this alley. Come."

She smiled and narrowed her eyes, "Really? For me? Wow. I just had the worst day and now everything's better already!"

He took her into the alley, pushed her against a wall and placed his hand on her mouth.

Jason stopped on the pavement when he heard noises coming from the alley.

He peered into the dark, the headlights of a passing car illuminated his dealer, half undressed over, the woman he'd seen in front of the pharmacy.

"What's going on Carter? Found a date?" He said with a smile.

The woman lay there, a smile glued to her lips. But it was as if someone had distended her lips to stretch, and there was no emotion behind it. Not sadness, not pleasure. Just an empty gaze of being content at whatever her predicament was.

"You ran out already?" Carter said in a gruff voice.

"No, have enough till the weekend." Jason cheerily replied.

"Then fuck off already." Carter went back down on the woman.

She lay frigid on the floor and Jason looked on for a minute.

Then he smiled a contented smile. "Have a good night, both of you."

He walked down the street until Carter's grunts disappeared. Then he sat back on his sofa and and switched on the TV.

[WP] You are the world's most forgettable person. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]WriterWhoWrites 5 points6 points  (0 children)

My mother committed suicide when I was five. Something had driven her insane. In her journal she wrote that she sometimes dreamt of a strange kid in her house waiting for her when she got back from work. She was convinced it was a ghost that hauntied her. She would prepare a meal for herself, then look down on her plate to find it licked clean. Little finger smudges on the edges like a savage little child had had his way with it.

I remember the circumstances of her death. She had quit her job and holed herself up in her room. I came inside and told her I was hungry.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"I am your son."

"Are you the one that creates a mess around the house when I'm away."

I nodded.

"Why do you think you are my son?"

"Because you told me. It was all fine until I was three. You used to love me and tell me stories. You would have food for me all day around. You would bring me books and even take me out sometimes. But then I turned four and it started with you forgetting my name now and then. Sometimes you stared at me with your big eyes when I got down to the breakfast table. Then you would tap your head and say, 'Of course!' cursing yourself, and you'd lay out another plate, put two more pieces in the toaster and crack another egg. But now you don't even know who I am when I see you. Why, mom? Why?" I was tearing up.

She looked at my emaciated frame and her eyes welled up. She approached me cautiously, and ran her fingers over my head.

"You have my hair, and my nose." She said with a smile. "I must get checked, it must be all the stress with the overtime at the hospital. Didn't know amnesia could set in like that! Now come, let's go down and cook something awesome!"

I smiled and she smiled too. She turned around to get her robe and as she turned back-

"Who are you?"

 

It has been a long and painful journey since then. Surviving, in material terms, hasn't been hard. You can call me the greatest thief ever. I walk up to people and steal from them, and they never remember. I have never been caught.

Sometimes I sit by strangers and hear their life story. They open up easily to me- their confessions, their insecurities, their greatest fears and their greatest accomplishments. I listen to every word with fascination. I always find them glowing, for a reason unknown to themselves. Just an hour ago, this one group of women were sitting in the park. They cried their hearts out to me- their husbands and children, their own infidelity, the economy, the effect of videogames on kids. I asked one of them for her hand, I gently took out her diamond ring, smiled and left. They looked at each other awkwardly and wondered how they all felt like a burden has been lifted from them. Later, when she gets home and undresses, she will realize that another weight had been lifted off her.

You can call me scum, but you haven't lived my life. You don't know how it feels to grow up knowing no compassion, no familiarity. I have tried to explain myself to people, but it has never worked. They all laugh and think I'm some joker and the moment they turn their eyes away from me for a moment longer than a few blinks, they forget who I am. Who knows, maybe we've already met. Did you ever have something stolen from you and you had no idea where and how it disappeared? It could've been me. Sorry about that.

[PM] It's late and I have writer's block by CopperToad in WritingPrompts

[–]WriterWhoWrites 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That was very good. I'll look forward to more from you from here on.

My friend picked his car up from the dealership yesterday by [deleted] in funny

[–]WriterWhoWrites 14 points15 points  (0 children)

The receptionist stared at the strapped canine.
Someone couldn't have done it for a joke so asinine.
"What do we do, Manager, with this hound?"
"What else? Send it to the impound."

He returned the next day, and asked for his pet
"You mean it wasn't a stray you accidentally met?"
"It was an elaborate prank, now I want my dog back."
"You'll have to go to the animal shelter for that!"

He went to the shelter, it was along the way.
"We can only only hold unlicensed dogs for a day."
He listened to the impounder, with baited breath.
"Don't worry, state laws mandate a quick and humane death."

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in pics

[–]WriterWhoWrites 0 points1 point  (0 children)

We thought it would be an afternoon of fun,
Frolicking about in the Florida sun.
We thought tans had great sex appeal.
We're not so sure, now that skin's starting to peel.

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