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Post by Caulder Melhaire on Jun 26, 2022 16:33:21 GMT -6
This Week's Prompt: Guillotine
Length: Entries must be 100 words, no more, no less. Where: Post your entry below. Deadline: July 2nd by midnight CST. Participant's Badges: HERE Weekly Challenge Rules:- No critiquing. Please refrain from giving feedback, as these challenges are to inspire creativity.
- Positive Enthusiasm is welcome! But save it for when Voting has started.
- CAN NOT vote for your own entry, and doing so will disqualify your submission.
- HAVE FUN!
Did you post an entry? Don't forget your Easy 10 Points!
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Post by pelwrath on Jun 26, 2022 21:29:21 GMT -6
John Hamilton and the Maiden
Twas Friday at sunset,
I ordered an ale for one cent.
Her eyes were so fair,
To her hair not any could compare.
Her employer was a blood sucking rake,
For whom I wished I had a stake.
He struck her across her face,
Her tears now marred her grace.
I leaped from my chair,
For he was most unaware.
My fist landed most mightily,
Unfortunately, very vitally.
At Mercat Cross, I see my last Maiden,
Though with guilt I’m not laden.
I’ll lose my head for killing a Publican
Alas, for me, there is no mulligan.
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Post by FoxxGlove on Jun 27, 2022 10:43:59 GMT -6
Café Tricoteuse
When she could afford it, Grace liked to treat herself to dinner at the exclusive Café Tricoteuse. This themed restaurant was charming with serviettes stacked in miniature tumbrils and candle holders in the form of tiny guillotines. Even the salt and pepper shakers wore the Phrygian cap.
Grace always preferred a secluded table-for-one where she could relax and enjoy the house specialty -- pan fried sea bass with a chive velouté sauce -- and work on her dissertation entitled "Collapse Of The Ancien Régime," all the while picking the brains of well-preserved aristocratic decapitations which lined the rustic shelves along the back wall.
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dawndragon
Smoke
Does spite count as motivation?
Posts: 41 
Custom Title: Head in the clouds
MEDIUM: 100
EASY: 300
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Post by dawndragon on Jul 2, 2022 21:59:09 GMT -6
The stage production called death
The crowd cheers as the prisoners are led onto the stage. No longer neighbours and friends but a beast. One mind, a mass of limbs entwined into something not quite human. They cry for blood, for death. The crime doesn’t matter, not to this creature, just the iron scent of blood in the air and the pleas of those scheduled for execution.
The first man walks to his death, an enviable position to be in; the blade freshly sharpened. No words pass his lips, stoic in the face of his demise.
The blade drops, a head rolls, the crowd cheers.
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Post by Caulder Melhaire on Jul 3, 2022 9:49:58 GMT -6
Brilliant entries, all! Poll added
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Post by Caulder Melhaire on Jul 10, 2022 15:19:49 GMT -6
Well done all! FoxxGlove and dawndragon tie with brilliant entries. Have an extra 10 easy points each! |
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You add them to your profile as you do them around the forum.
