Mr Parr's 80-word story and stretch writers' homework this week

Apologies for not being available to take our stretch writers group this week. However, with our wonderful blog, this won't stop us! 'Homework'  for this week is to keep on going with your entry for the competition. Or rather, I should say your entries - if you have written one story, how about trying another genre?

Also, everyone needs to comment on at least one other writer's work. Be a 'critical friend': offer encouragement and praise but also guidance and suggestions.

Here's my effort:

He sat back from his trusty antique typewriter, pleased with his blindingly original story. There had been nothing like hammering away on the machine’s keys – how like a mouthful of metal teeth they seemed at times – to let the whole place know just how creative he had been. Seventy nine words of genius so far. He rested his fingers on the keys one last time, ready to type his name, and the metal monster bit them right off.

And remember to write your name on comments and on posts please!

Mr Parr

Arson

Dancers in the inky black, twirling across the stage. A volcanic carnival, it seems. Jewels in the night, it seems.

You gaze up with excitement; shock. What is it? You are enthralled by the performance. You are disgusted how it happened, how such artists got there.

There. I glance upwards, one last look before the stage disappears. Forever. Tears almost well in my eyes. I imagine this 'stage' a pile of flakes. Nothing. Why did I have to do this?

Pippa

The letter

I was shocked the day it came.Although I was asleep I instantly heard the letterbox clatter,who would come at this time? Reluctantly yet curiously I went to inspect.

             Jim,

                                        You must come to see me at school in the third cubical from the left in the downstairs toilet five minutes into lunch if not then ...


                                                  Yours faithfully,

                                                                    ???
                                                                  
The next day I blatantly wasn't myself. At lunch I headed to the toilet, that was a decision I instantly regretted...



                             By Ben

                                              

The Smell

the vapour wafted towards me using it's snake like camouflage to catch me with in it's evil wrath . I stopped,  taking a moment to breath , then I walked  away from  my deodorant.

By Osian

Oops!

 Time slept the moment I knew what would happen. So I picked up the pen and wrote: Today the impossible happened , time st. . .                            Oops!

 By Osian

Pi... 3.14159265358979323846264338327950

I am going to enter a competition and this blog is actually named after it; surprise!! I will be carrying on and adding too the not breaking the rule in my last piece.

The silhouetted man strolled across the dusty planes. It was disturbing; I couldn't figure out if the man was walking towards me or not. Wind tumbled over a ridge, upsetting the direction of the grass around it. A chill crawled down my spine, as the man gazed almost right at me. I shivered. I turned and around to leave, and a huge figure loomed over me...

66

Luke

And yet she wept.
Seated in a wicker chair. Single drops of realisation fell from her blod-shot eyes.
Her knees danced from side to side, Collapsing into the air. The hollow ticking of the clock sang a soft lullaby. She screwed up her face.