This folder is for all past contest entries for the group!
The Legend of Yen Sid- Part Two by WishExpedition23, literature
Literature
The Legend of Yen Sid- Part Two
“Mary Alice, Merlin, and I continued forth to God knows where we had gone. We had no clue where to go, when to go, or any particular reason why to go. One thing for sure was that we all had to be someplace sometime soon. I feared greatly inside that there would come a day when either Merlin or Mary Alice would decide to leave me and carry on with their lives. Eventually, they did. But before that time happened, we came through a forest where in one spot or another was dark or much treacherously dangerous. That night, we made camp, a small fire and we only had two blankets so either two of us had to share one of them or have one of us sl
The Legend of Yen Sid- Part Three by WishExpedition23, literature
Literature
The Legend of Yen Sid- Part Three
“For the time being, Mavis and I rode far into the great fields where nothing surrounded us but mountains tipped with snow and a widespread of forest trees standing in a long lined row. With my brother’s law withdrawn, I felt so happy and free inside. There was no one to tell me what to do or say what was best for me. Even with the company of my horse, it was only just me, myself and I. In fact, I was so happy and relieved to continue living my dreams I spread my arms far out as if I were flying higher than any dragon, gryphon or eagle has ever flown. The moment of cherishment halted when Mavis and I had spotted two men in brown r
The frilly pink gloves are surprisingly comfortable. Still embarrassing, though. Completely and utterly embarrassing. I scrub furiously at a particularly crusty plate, and pray no one will come into the tiny niche where the sinks sit.
Just my luck.
Charlie steps in, chuckling at the sight of me. I give him a glare over my shoulder, and he only laughs harder.
“If you'd talk to me a little nicer, I'd get you some real gloves, boy.”
He tosses a ring of keys onto the counter.
“Lock up, will ya. I'm headin' out early.”
Waving a hand over his shoulder, he walks out, leaving the lingering smell of sweat and flour. I hea
Better Than a Mars Bar
22-10-12
The ping on Mars was dreadful and Donuvian had just lagged out again. Instant death for him in the Raid, which equated to a 25-man wipe, and if it happened again he wouldn't be invited to join any more guild activities for a month. Logging back in to World of Warcraft, he noticed that his ms was over 3k. "Thag nik tahg," he mumbled into his microphone.
"Sorry Don, what was that?" One of his guild members replied over Skype.
Cursing himself for using his native tongue, Donuvian switched to English. "Fuck this shit. I can't play with a 3k lag. I'll log out for the night and try again later."
"K Don. Enjoy pla
There she was, alone again. Sitting in that dark corner, with her body language screaming "Don't come near me!" Kixine Shane, the quietest, most intriguing girl in the academy. Never spoke in class, or to anyone else at school, even when threatened with demerits.
Her long brown hair always hung down in her face, preventing anyone from seeing her features. Sometimes, though, a tantalizing glimpse of large green eyes peered through. It was anybody's guess why she even bothered to come to this fine arts academy.
Remi slowed his pace as he walked by her corner. On impulse, he stopped next to her and re-tied his shoelaces. As he did, he caught
"Ladies and gentlemen, one lucky denizen will be chosen
to receive a very, special gift! So be sure to check your Christmas tree tomorrow morning!"
It was a gloomy, dark Christmas Eve. My dearest family was enjoying themselves, chatting, playing, and having a nice enjoyable time. Everyone was enjoying themselves except for me.
My name is Avarice Greenwich and we're spending our damned Christmas at Grandma Avidity's house. I don't understand why we cannot stay at home and relax there. But my father insisted a bunch of times.
Why do I hate Christmas? Well, for once Santa doesn't even exist in this world. He is nothing more than a mere child
Dear Baby,
If you are reading this, most likely (or certainly) you are not a baby any more; your feet have grown- your fingers are long and slender, you’re taller- and probably taller than I am right now, and to keep the long words short, you are a woman.
Or I rather say you’re still a girl (if the people you know as your parents have given you this letter on your 18th Christmas as I have requested), since myself being your age today, right now, here; I yet don’t feel ready to be called a woman myself.
You are by me, baby, sleeping soundly, as I write these words.
So it just makes everything a lot more harder than it al
Santa Claus is Coming... For You by ReallyLostMyMind, literature
Literature
Santa Claus is Coming... For You
It was raining out.
But it’s always raining out on these nights.
As soon as the rain begins to flood in, the lights in the basement of O’Donnell’s Bar come flickering on slowly, the dusty bulbs taking a few minutes to warm up.
O’Donnell is always the one to turn on the lights for them.
Slowly, they trickle in through the door.
All of them dressed in dark colors, outfits carefully chosen so as to blend in, but still provide cover anywhere, and to be flexible. One by one they walk in through the door, take a seat at the table, the only place in the room with a strong light bulb, and pull a stack of bills out of their poc
The voice of Santa Claus boomed through out the workshop, making all the elves jump.
"Where are all the toys? Where are all the toys? We need to leave in exactly nine hours and you haven't even half filled the sack!"
"We're sorry, we're sorry!" they replied while turning the speed on the machines up.
Satisfied by hearing only the pitter patter of elves shoes sliding along the floor, and the grinding of each machines as they work, Santa walked back over to his favourite arm chair, and thought about the crisis that he – and his company – were in.
With nine hours to go before take off, the present sack was only one third full of presents, th
In a perfect world,
you’d have the perfect award,
for this life-long service of yours.
However, its plain to see,
that I’ve lived imperfectly,
with gifts at the root of the cause.
The soft snow drifts down,
upon my guilty frown,
an orange vest upon me is lain.
A chained ball at my legs,
as my own heart begs,
that avarice be to blame.
I guess I could appeal,
but ‘fair’ isn’t real.
There’s truly no point anymore,
I send you my best,
send our daughter the rest,
I’ll love you both forevermore.
Encased you’ll find
hopefully, piece of mind,
in a heartfelt letter to thee.
Keep it ‘til she&rs