Hello, all. It is time for WRITING CHAT THINGY. As I have taken to calling it. For those who are new around these parts, it's a group chat where we share prompts to write fifteen minute ficlets. If you haven't come before but want to try it out, don't be afraid to stop by!
The name of the AIM chatroom is writingchatthingy. If you don't know how to
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Comments 48
Kon swung his legs off the bed, and rubbed the crick in his neck. Without even turning around, he knew through the gauzy linen curtains Ma knitted the month before lay the golden halo of the cornfields.
He shut his eyes, and mumbled a quick thanks the x-ray vision hadn't kicked in.
There was nothing for miles except the identical flat stacks of yellow. For some reason, that brought a gleam of nostalgia in Super-- no, Clark Kent's eyes. Harvest time, the grown man had practically drooled, was a time of belongingWhatever. He grabbed a shirt off a neatly folded pile, Ma's doing even though he had asked her not to come in, and winced when he read the words Kansas City Star. He wore it anyway, to save the trouble to going through his still locked suitcase ( ... )
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"Yeah, it really sucks when we get days off." Jo agrees, her head buried in a ammo magazine. "Especially since you're the only one who has any paperwork left."
"I'm sure someone somewhere is using this as an opportunity to make something explode." Jack sighs like a man with the world, or at least one very smart town, against him and resigns himself to his fate for the next two hours.
Paperwork always has a way of catching up.
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