Script
Saints of New Orleans
Day started like All the rest down here in Mississippi. Hot and muggy as soon as the daylight broke through the dark night. My little brother still asleep like usual, leaving me to make breakfast and do all the morning chores. He was 20 years my junior and I was pretty much the only father figure he had ever known. Ma and pa died of the scarlet fever not long after he was born. I was 26 and off fighting a war that I had no business in. As soon as I got my discharge papers I was on my way back home. That's where I found this ferrel little child with eyes like mine. He must have been born just after I left. It took some learning and several whippings to get him back into a form that resembles humanity. Sometimes I think that the whipping hurt me more than it did him. After a few years he had become a model child that others would base their thoughts of a good boy on. I can't imagine what he saw before I showed up.
By Micheal Rogers4 years ago in Fiction
Seventh Heaven
TITLE: Seventh Heaven CHARACTERS: ▪Heaven Dela Verde (Ven) - A girl who can perfectly fit as the living example of the word "happiness". Just like her name, her personality and talent seem heavenly. So pure and bubbly, like an angel in disguise. 18 years old. A classmate of Seven.
By STARINTHENIGHT4 years ago in Fiction
The IQ Queue
The IQ Queue. A skit
By Suzsi Mandeville4 years ago in Fiction
When No One Else Will
Arriving home, dropping her bags and kicking off her shoes. She grabs a beer, pours a tall shot and lights a smoke. Plopping down on the couch, heavily putting her feet on the coffee table. She stares at the blank TV screen, feeling overall good about the trip, but also melancholy. Her 4D sense has turned into a burning monster. It sits somewhere between her belly button and sternum. A relentless ball of fire, a constant reminder. Pushing her to do more, make a bigger difference, gnawing away at her, telling her penalties must be paid, retribution due making her nerves as tight as a guitar string vibrating a constant tune. In the many hours it took to get home, the fire never let up. Only urging her to move faster, it became a conversation in her head.
By Michele J.4 years ago in Fiction
