Charlton_Ghosh
I am a student with a passion for playing the piano, writing stories, and photo-shop.
Charlton_Ghosh
Follow
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
CotW #66: Write about the biggest lesson life has taught you.
Written by Charlton_Ghosh

What Life has Taught Me

Life has taught me this:

When you are born, you are given a blank canvas and a pallet with assorted paints on it. It is up to you to paint a picture. This will be your legacy.

You will look around and notice that some people have lots of paints on their pallets to choose from. And still others have larger or smaller canvases. Do not be discouraged that you have fewer colors, and do not mock those who have fewer colors then you. These paints that you have been given, have been specially chosen for you. As to the canvases, some painters shall be able to paint more, others less. Paint as long as you have room on your canvas. Make it your own.

This is your task: paint your picture in one go. You do not have a second chance, and mistakes will happen along the way. Do not fret about these blemishes on your canvas. If you work them into your painting, it will ultimately become more beautiful for it. If you dwell on the mistakes, you will make more...

It is also important that your painting be partially inspired by other pictures. (It is impossible to paint with out first seeing what a good painting is.) But remember to make the painting your own. Perfect duplicates of a painting make for a dull gallery.

Be forewarned, some who have gone before you have failed in there endeavors. They wasted the paint they have been given by smearing it in grotesque and terrible images. Some painters will even dare to destroy the canvases of others before ultimately destroying their own. Be wary of these people. Their influence is detrimental to the painting of your canvas.

Again, do not despair with the colors you have been given, or have not been given. Use what you have, and make your painting yours.

Never become discouraged. And remember this: once you decide to step away from your canvas, declaring it finished, it will become finished. Be wary of the temptation to give up on your painting when it is hard. A half painted canvas is only a half painted canvas. A good painting will be painted to the full extent the canvas has to offer.

Now go! use your paint, use your canvas. Live your life.

13
3
9
Juice
44 reads
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
CotW #66: Write about the biggest lesson life has taught you.
Written by Charlton_Ghosh
What Life has Taught Me
Life has taught me this:

When you are born, you are given a blank canvas and a pallet with assorted paints on it. It is up to you to paint a picture. This will be your legacy.

You will look around and notice that some people have lots of paints on their pallets to choose from. And still others have larger or smaller canvases. Do not be discouraged that you have fewer colors, and do not mock those who have fewer colors then you. These paints that you have been given, have been specially chosen for you. As to the canvases, some painters shall be able to paint more, others less. Paint as long as you have room on your canvas. Make it your own.

This is your task: paint your picture in one go. You do not have a second chance, and mistakes will happen along the way. Do not fret about these blemishes on your canvas. If you work them into your painting, it will ultimately become more beautiful for it. If you dwell on the mistakes, you will make more...

It is also important that your painting be partially inspired by other pictures. (It is impossible to paint with out first seeing what a good painting is.) But remember to make the painting your own. Perfect duplicates of a painting make for a dull gallery.

Be forewarned, some who have gone before you have failed in there endeavors. They wasted the paint they have been given by smearing it in grotesque and terrible images. Some painters will even dare to destroy the canvases of others before ultimately destroying their own. Be wary of these people. Their influence is detrimental to the painting of your canvas.

Again, do not despair with the colors you have been given, or have not been given. Use what you have, and make your painting yours.

Never become discouraged. And remember this: once you decide to step away from your canvas, declaring it finished, it will become finished. Be wary of the temptation to give up on your painting when it is hard. A half painted canvas is only a half painted canvas. A good painting will be painted to the full extent the canvas has to offer.

Now go! use your paint, use your canvas. Live your life.
13
3
9
Juice
44 reads
Load 9 Comments
Login to post comments.
Advertisement  (turn off)
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Write automatically and describe who you really are, without referencing your physical appearance, job, traits, ethics, possessions, achievements, beliefs or environment. And good luck with that ;)
Written by Charlton_Ghosh

Words on a Page

I am words on a page.

My conscious knows not,

the quality of three dimensions.

I find repose in Prose,

simply because it exists.

I seek to write, and write I will.

Pouring myself into text.

Finding that all things are possible,

when you simply think them,

they appear as:

words on the page...

7
2
2
Juice
21 reads
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Write automatically and describe who you really are, without referencing your physical appearance, job, traits, ethics, possessions, achievements, beliefs or environment. And good luck with that ;)
Written by Charlton_Ghosh
Words on a Page
I am words on a page.
My conscious knows not,
the quality of three dimensions.

I find repose in Prose,
simply because it exists.
I seek to write, and write I will.
Pouring myself into text.

Finding that all things are possible,
when you simply think them,
they appear as:
words on the page...
7
2
2
Juice
21 reads
Load 2 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Plop
Chapter 14 of Collection of Poetry
Written by Charlton_Ghosh

Plip Plop

Plip Plop:

          The rain soothes

          my roiling mind,

          calms my soul,

          and helps me find,

          things to write,

          if so inclined.

Plip Plop:

          I now write,

          these poems of life:

          Heroes rise,

          through all the strife.

          They conquer,

          enemies rife.

Plip Plop:

          To be one,

          who gains his fame,

          with the sword,

          would be a game.

          If to win,

          would leave no shame.

10
2
3
Juice
26 reads
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Plop
Chapter 14 of Collection of Poetry
Written by Charlton_Ghosh
Plip Plop
Plip Plop:
          The rain soothes
          my roiling mind,
          calms my soul,
          and helps me find,
          things to write,
          if so inclined.

Plip Plop:
          I now write,
          these poems of life:
          Heroes rise,
          through all the strife.
          They conquer,
          enemies rife.

Plip Plop:
          To be one,
          who gains his fame,
          with the sword,
          would be a game.
          If to win,
          would leave no shame.
10
2
3
Juice
26 reads
Load 3 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
The writer of the best short story from this challenge wins a ProWritingAid Lifetime License, worth $140. Take the terribly-written adverb-laden outline of a story below and use your own voice to make it amazing. Maybe it's sci-fi, maybe it's romance, maybe it's thriller...it's up to you: The door was opened and they looked out. She was very surprised. He looked very worried. They went quickly to find out more. She slowly picked up the object and it all finally made sense.
Chapter 5 of Collection of Short Stories
Written by Charlton_Ghosh

Dream Machine

   Hazel and Chester sat in complete darkness. The two of them were locked in a Cranial Pressure Chamber. They dealt in the manipulation of the subconscious, a pseudo-scientific endeavor, spearheaded by the great Dr. Glaznoch. Their current mission was the extraction of a dream from a new patient. The patient was some fellow in a coma that Dr. Glaznoch had brought in for special treatment. He had said it was of utmost urgency. Neither Chester nor Hazel were given more information than that. They did not need more information. All they needed to know was the description of the dream they were hunting and removing.

 

   Hazel pushed a button on a hand held remote and a small dial in front of them lit the tiny chamber with a dull glow. "Mental Pressure is reaching target point. We'll be entering the subconscious state in just about forty seconds."

    "Roger that," replied Chester. He tugged a little at his helmet. This item protected his head from the building pressure in the chamber, and it also connected him to the patient.

   "Ten seconds," Hazel said, "Five, four, three, two, one." Both Hazel and Chester felt a tug at the base off their skulls. Both went limp at the controls and both entered the subconsciousness of their patient. They felt a jostle from side to side, then a sort of drop with a sudden stop. They were now in the patient's subconscious mind. In front of them a door opened, flooding the room with light. They stepped out into a strange, ever changing, ever solid, landscape.

   The world into which they stepped, was brightly lit, with a sky blue dome over head. The ground seemed to be made of a dull pink stone, which shimmered and swirled. The patterns shifted this way and that, but the physical structure of the material stayed the same shape. These two colors, the pink and blue, dominated the landscape. In fact, nothing else was present. Hazel and Chester stood in a veritable desert of pink.

   "Well this is quite unexpected." Hazel said. She pulled a tool from her belt and powered it on. It whirred and whistled for a few seconds and then displayed a few numbers. "It looks as though we are the only things here. Literally, nothing else seems to exist in his subconscious."

   "That can't be right." Chester glanced at the numbers on the tool. "Scan again. If those numbers come up again we'll need to contact Doctor Glaznoch pronto."

   Hazel ran the machine again, and the result was the same.

   Chester clenched his jaw, "I'll establish the connection. We have to contact Glaznoch to figure out what is happening." There was an urgency in Chester's voice that Hazel didn't argue with.

   "Okay," she replied, "What do you think is going on here?"

   Chester looked around, "I don't know, I've never seen anything like it. It is sort of like the patient has ceased to think altogether."

   Hazel looked around as Chester prepared the Convo-Link.

   "Chester, what's that over there." She pointed to a small round disc sitting on a pile of rocks. Chester looked up, but now that he was establishing the link, could not reply due to the concentration required. He could only watch with a slightly detached expression.

   Hazel walked over to the disc and picked it up. The disc was only five inches in diameter, and on its face was inscribed. "Subconscious compromised and deleted. Source code in hibernation. Machine in permanent shut down mode."

   "Uh, Chester." Hazel said, "I think we entered a machine, not a human."

14
6
17
Juice
90 reads
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
The writer of the best short story from this challenge wins a ProWritingAid Lifetime License, worth $140. Take the terribly-written adverb-laden outline of a story below and use your own voice to make it amazing. Maybe it's sci-fi, maybe it's romance, maybe it's thriller...it's up to you: The door was opened and they looked out. She was very surprised. He looked very worried. They went quickly to find out more. She slowly picked up the object and it all finally made sense.
Chapter 5 of Collection of Short Stories
Written by Charlton_Ghosh
Dream Machine
   Hazel and Chester sat in complete darkness. The two of them were locked in a Cranial Pressure Chamber. They dealt in the manipulation of the subconscious, a pseudo-scientific endeavor, spearheaded by the great Dr. Glaznoch. Their current mission was the extraction of a dream from a new patient. The patient was some fellow in a coma that Dr. Glaznoch had brought in for special treatment. He had said it was of utmost urgency. Neither Chester nor Hazel were given more information than that. They did not need more information. All they needed to know was the description of the dream they were hunting and removing.
 
   Hazel pushed a button on a hand held remote and a small dial in front of them lit the tiny chamber with a dull glow. "Mental Pressure is reaching target point. We'll be entering the subconscious state in just about forty seconds."

    "Roger that," replied Chester. He tugged a little at his helmet. This item protected his head from the building pressure in the chamber, and it also connected him to the patient.

   "Ten seconds," Hazel said, "Five, four, three, two, one." Both Hazel and Chester felt a tug at the base off their skulls. Both went limp at the controls and both entered the subconsciousness of their patient. They felt a jostle from side to side, then a sort of drop with a sudden stop. They were now in the patient's subconscious mind. In front of them a door opened, flooding the room with light. They stepped out into a strange, ever changing, ever solid, landscape.

   The world into which they stepped, was brightly lit, with a sky blue dome over head. The ground seemed to be made of a dull pink stone, which shimmered and swirled. The patterns shifted this way and that, but the physical structure of the material stayed the same shape. These two colors, the pink and blue, dominated the landscape. In fact, nothing else was present. Hazel and Chester stood in a veritable desert of pink.

   "Well this is quite unexpected." Hazel said. She pulled a tool from her belt and powered it on. It whirred and whistled for a few seconds and then displayed a few numbers. "It looks as though we are the only things here. Literally, nothing else seems to exist in his subconscious."

   "That can't be right." Chester glanced at the numbers on the tool. "Scan again. If those numbers come up again we'll need to contact Doctor Glaznoch pronto."

   Hazel ran the machine again, and the result was the same.

   Chester clenched his jaw, "I'll establish the connection. We have to contact Glaznoch to figure out what is happening." There was an urgency in Chester's voice that Hazel didn't argue with.

   "Okay," she replied, "What do you think is going on here?"

   Chester looked around, "I don't know, I've never seen anything like it. It is sort of like the patient has ceased to think altogether."

   Hazel looked around as Chester prepared the Convo-Link.

   "Chester, what's that over there." She pointed to a small round disc sitting on a pile of rocks. Chester looked up, but now that he was establishing the link, could not reply due to the concentration required. He could only watch with a slightly detached expression.

   Hazel walked over to the disc and picked it up. The disc was only five inches in diameter, and on its face was inscribed. "Subconscious compromised and deleted. Source code in hibernation. Machine in permanent shut down mode."

   "Uh, Chester." Hazel said, "I think we entered a machine, not a human."
14
6
17
Juice
90 reads
Load 17 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Love Poem Challenge - Let's Test The New Challenge Abilities
Chapter 7 of Collection of Poetry
Written by Charlton_Ghosh in portal Poetry & Free Verse

On Love and Prose

I have found a new challenge.

Both in writing and in love.

Prose has updated there style,

And I think I have found

an angel from Above.

Lets start with Prose first.

There challenges do cost,

a small fee to enter.

I think this is silly,

many people will be lost.

They charge you to write,

I am saddened by this.

Why spend money,

when entering

a writing bliss.

As to my imagined love,

I saw a wonderful girl,

She passed me by,

we never talked.

I shall retreat from that pearl.

14
9
13
Juice
73 reads
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Love Poem Challenge - Let's Test The New Challenge Abilities
Chapter 7 of Collection of Poetry
Written by Charlton_Ghosh in portal Poetry & Free Verse
On Love and Prose
I have found a new challenge.
Both in writing and in love.
Prose has updated there style,
And I think I have found
an angel from Above.

Lets start with Prose first.
There challenges do cost,
a small fee to enter.
I think this is silly,
many people will be lost.

They charge you to write,
I am saddened by this.
Why spend money,
when entering
a writing bliss.

As to my imagined love,
I saw a wonderful girl,
She passed me by,
we never talked.
I shall retreat from that pearl.
14
9
13
Juice
73 reads
Load 13 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Chapter 2 of Anna Baker
Written by Charlton_Ghosh

Chapter Two: Dwarf and Dragon

   Anna found herself sitting in her room that evening after all the guests had left. On her lap she held the itty bitty little dragon. Anna sat and watched him for a long time. She stroked his neck and scratched between his wings, he seemed to like that.

   "You'll need a name won't you." Anna lifted the dragon up to eye level and stared at him intently. "What should it be? Perhaps Flame?" The dragon stared at Anna indignantly, and snapped it's jaw lightly at her thumb.

   "Okay, I guess you don't like that. How about Nibbles." The dragon looked so offended that Anna immediately said, "No! Let's pick another. How about... how about... oh let me see. I got to think of a good name. Um... How about Cornelius? I got it! Cornelio!" The dragon let out a tiny roar and flapped its wings in approval. 

   "Cornelio it is." Anna smiled. "Now we need to figure out what you're going to eat for supper. The wizard said you can find your own food. So, can you?" The dragon let out a puff of smoke and took off flying around the room. Cornelio ducked and swooped, twirled and somersaulted through the air. He looked almost like a large metallic butterfly. After a little while, he finally landed on the window sill with his nose pressed firmly against the glass.

   Anna trotted over and cracked the window open just enough for the dragon to slip through. Out he went into the cool evening air. Cornelio let out a minute roar and released an impressive spear of flame into the gathering darkness, and with that, he fluttered out into the garden. Anna watched as he flew from one plant to the next, snapping at mosquitoes all the while. He swooped here and there and finally snagged a small vole from between the plant stalks. Anna let out a squeak of excitement, horror, and interest rolled into one sound. Thankfully the dragon settled down in the tall grass, so Anna didn't have to watch the demise of the vole.

   After about ten minutes or so, the dragon flew back to the window and slipped through the opening. Anna held out her hand and the dragon, now plump, settled down in her palm. She carried him over to the small chest and gently set him in, and then watched in fascination as the tiny dragon burrowed under the gold. He wriggled for a little bit, trying to find the perfect spot, and then he settled in for the night.

    Anna headed to bed shortly after. It had been a long and exciting day for her and she was very tired. As she curled under the bed covers, she whispered, "Good night, Cornelio." A tiny sniffle and slight glow, was the response she got. She smiled.

~~~

   Anna woke with a start. It was dark and late, no sounds could be heard. Anna lay in bed listening, trying to figure out why she was awake. Then she heard a slight tch sound coming from outside her window. She sat up in bed and stared in that direction, hoping to  see what it was that had made the sound. There on the window sill she could see the outline of Cornelio, posed with wings wide spread and neck outstretched, staring out into the darkness.

   Anna slipped from her bed and tiptoed over, "What is it Cornelio?" The dragon barely glanced at her before regaining his pose. Then he tapped a claw against the window. When Anna did nothing in response, the dragon tapped the window again. This time Anna moved over and cracked the window open a tiny bit. With a speed Anna didn't know Cornelio had, he dashed through the window and out into the night. She could see him belch fire into the night air once, twice, and then all was still.

   A shiver ran down Anna's back. She opened the window all the way and called out into the garden, "Cornelio? Cornelio, where are you?" She could hear no response. Then suddenly a pair of strong and very hairy hands grabbed her and pulled her from her window sill. Anna let out a yelp of surprise before one of the hands muffled her cries.

   A low gravelly voice whispered in Anna's ear, "Please don't make another sound, princess. I don't think Dordil will need much of an excuse to finish off your dragon. He doesn't like being bit by dragons, even little ones." Anna refrained from squeaking a reply, all she did instead was nod. Then the voice whispered in her ear again, "Sorry we have to meet this way, but things are getting urgent, and we need-" a sharp hiss from someone else cut of the voice's whisper. Anna saw, or rather felt, a heavy sack being placed over her head, and with that she was bundled up and carried off.

   The next thing Anna knew, she felt the bump bump of a pony's trot. At least she figured it was a pony. It felt like a pony. She was slumped over the saddle like a sack of potatoes, and she was starting to get a little dizzy from the rocking motion of the animal. Then suddenly, the pony stopped. Anna heard the gravelly voice again, "We'll camp here for the night. We are far enough from Ironwell, and I think we ought to let her know what's happening."

   Anna felt herself being removed from the horse, and then suddenly the hood was removed. She blinked in the bright sunlight as she looked around the forest glade the ponies had stopped in. And then Anna looked at the riders of the ponies. They were short little men, not much taller then Anna herself, and they all had long course beards. Anna giggled a little despite not knowing where she was. All the little men looked so funny.

   "Eh?" said one dwarf. He had yet to dismount from his pony, "Is she laughing at us?"

   "I think she is laughing at your face." Replied another dwarf, whose beard was a bright red color. "Anyone would laugh at your nose."

   "'Ay, that's not nice." Said the first dwarf as he attempted to jump from his pony's saddle. Except his foot got caught in the stirrup. Half way through his descent, his foot stopped moving, even though the rest of his body continued straight down. The final product was that his nose and right foot where at the level of the other dwarf's knees, and his left foot stuck straight into the air. Everybody laughed, including Anna, at the sight of the upside down dwarf.

   "You silly little man," Anna giggled, "Why are you jumping off the pony? You should slid down gently."

   The dwarf struggled for several seconds until finally his foot slipped free and he slumped to the ground in a pile. He grumbled to himself, "I know how to get off an horse. This 'ere nag just moved funny as I tried to dismount."

   The other dwarfs had started to gather around Anna, and she started to feel slightly frightened as she realized she didn't know who they were. Then one of the dwarfs, the one with the gravely voice, took pity on Anna and said, "Back up boys, give her some space. We've got a lot of explaining to do, what now that we've captured a princess."

6
2
9
Juice
51 reads
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Chapter 2 of Anna Baker
Written by Charlton_Ghosh
Chapter Two: Dwarf and Dragon
   Anna found herself sitting in her room that evening after all the guests had left. On her lap she held the itty bitty little dragon. Anna sat and watched him for a long time. She stroked his neck and scratched between his wings, he seemed to like that.
   "You'll need a name won't you." Anna lifted the dragon up to eye level and stared at him intently. "What should it be? Perhaps Flame?" The dragon stared at Anna indignantly, and snapped it's jaw lightly at her thumb.
   "Okay, I guess you don't like that. How about Nibbles." The dragon looked so offended that Anna immediately said, "No! Let's pick another. How about... how about... oh let me see. I got to think of a good name. Um... How about Cornelius? I got it! Cornelio!" The dragon let out a tiny roar and flapped its wings in approval. 
   "Cornelio it is." Anna smiled. "Now we need to figure out what you're going to eat for supper. The wizard said you can find your own food. So, can you?" The dragon let out a puff of smoke and took off flying around the room. Cornelio ducked and swooped, twirled and somersaulted through the air. He looked almost like a large metallic butterfly. After a little while, he finally landed on the window sill with his nose pressed firmly against the glass.
   Anna trotted over and cracked the window open just enough for the dragon to slip through. Out he went into the cool evening air. Cornelio let out a minute roar and released an impressive spear of flame into the gathering darkness, and with that, he fluttered out into the garden. Anna watched as he flew from one plant to the next, snapping at mosquitoes all the while. He swooped here and there and finally snagged a small vole from between the plant stalks. Anna let out a squeak of excitement, horror, and interest rolled into one sound. Thankfully the dragon settled down in the tall grass, so Anna didn't have to watch the demise of the vole.
   After about ten minutes or so, the dragon flew back to the window and slipped through the opening. Anna held out her hand and the dragon, now plump, settled down in her palm. She carried him over to the small chest and gently set him in, and then watched in fascination as the tiny dragon burrowed under the gold. He wriggled for a little bit, trying to find the perfect spot, and then he settled in for the night.
    Anna headed to bed shortly after. It had been a long and exciting day for her and she was very tired. As she curled under the bed covers, she whispered, "Good night, Cornelio." A tiny sniffle and slight glow, was the response she got. She smiled.

~~~

   Anna woke with a start. It was dark and late, no sounds could be heard. Anna lay in bed listening, trying to figure out why she was awake. Then she heard a slight tch sound coming from outside her window. She sat up in bed and stared in that direction, hoping to  see what it was that had made the sound. There on the window sill she could see the outline of Cornelio, posed with wings wide spread and neck outstretched, staring out into the darkness.
   Anna slipped from her bed and tiptoed over, "What is it Cornelio?" The dragon barely glanced at her before regaining his pose. Then he tapped a claw against the window. When Anna did nothing in response, the dragon tapped the window again. This time Anna moved over and cracked the window open a tiny bit. With a speed Anna didn't know Cornelio had, he dashed through the window and out into the night. She could see him belch fire into the night air once, twice, and then all was still.
   A shiver ran down Anna's back. She opened the window all the way and called out into the garden, "Cornelio? Cornelio, where are you?" She could hear no response. Then suddenly a pair of strong and very hairy hands grabbed her and pulled her from her window sill. Anna let out a yelp of surprise before one of the hands muffled her cries.
   A low gravelly voice whispered in Anna's ear, "Please don't make another sound, princess. I don't think Dordil will need much of an excuse to finish off your dragon. He doesn't like being bit by dragons, even little ones." Anna refrained from squeaking a reply, all she did instead was nod. Then the voice whispered in her ear again, "Sorry we have to meet this way, but things are getting urgent, and we need-" a sharp hiss from someone else cut of the voice's whisper. Anna saw, or rather felt, a heavy sack being placed over her head, and with that she was bundled up and carried off.
   The next thing Anna knew, she felt the bump bump of a pony's trot. At least she figured it was a pony. It felt like a pony. She was slumped over the saddle like a sack of potatoes, and she was starting to get a little dizzy from the rocking motion of the animal. Then suddenly, the pony stopped. Anna heard the gravelly voice again, "We'll camp here for the night. We are far enough from Ironwell, and I think we ought to let her know what's happening."
   Anna felt herself being removed from the horse, and then suddenly the hood was removed. She blinked in the bright sunlight as she looked around the forest glade the ponies had stopped in. And then Anna looked at the riders of the ponies. They were short little men, not much taller then Anna herself, and they all had long course beards. Anna giggled a little despite not knowing where she was. All the little men looked so funny.
   "Eh?" said one dwarf. He had yet to dismount from his pony, "Is she laughing at us?"
   "I think she is laughing at your face." Replied another dwarf, whose beard was a bright red color. "Anyone would laugh at your nose."
   "'Ay, that's not nice." Said the first dwarf as he attempted to jump from his pony's saddle. Except his foot got caught in the stirrup. Half way through his descent, his foot stopped moving, even though the rest of his body continued straight down. The final product was that his nose and right foot where at the level of the other dwarf's knees, and his left foot stuck straight into the air. Everybody laughed, including Anna, at the sight of the upside down dwarf.
   "You silly little man," Anna giggled, "Why are you jumping off the pony? You should slid down gently."
   The dwarf struggled for several seconds until finally his foot slipped free and he slumped to the ground in a pile. He grumbled to himself, "I know how to get off an horse. This 'ere nag just moved funny as I tried to dismount."
   The other dwarfs had started to gather around Anna, and she started to feel slightly frightened as she realized she didn't know who they were. Then one of the dwarfs, the one with the gravely voice, took pity on Anna and said, "Back up boys, give her some space. We've got a lot of explaining to do, what now that we've captured a princess."
6
2
9
Juice
51 reads
Load 9 Comments
Login to post comments.
Advertisement  (turn off)
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
In 15 words tell me why you write
Written by Charlton_Ghosh

19 words in a 15 word challenge. I'm that good.

I write because I can. I write because I want to. I write till I-run-out-of-words.

8
2
3
Juice
19 reads
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
In 15 words tell me why you write
Written by Charlton_Ghosh
19 words in a 15 word challenge. I'm that good.
I write because I can. I write because I want to. I write till I-run-out-of-words.
8
2
3
Juice
19 reads
Load 3 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
It happened in the library...
Written by Charlton_Ghosh

Only Fiction

It happened in the library.... That was where I saw her. She was one of a kind and absolutely beautiful. She was beautifully curved, and stood five feet tall exactly. But someone else was holding her. I couldn't very well just steal her away from him.

I sighed to myself and then I said "Oh what the heck! No body here knows me! I don't have to come back!"

So I walked up to the guy and I punched him in the face. Before he could let her drop to the floor, I grabbed the cosplay sword and ran like crazy out of the library...

I am now stuck with the same cosplay sword twenty years later. I wish I had thought that day through better.

6
1
4
Juice
29 reads
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
It happened in the library...
Written by Charlton_Ghosh
Only Fiction
It happened in the library.... That was where I saw her. She was one of a kind and absolutely beautiful. She was beautifully curved, and stood five feet tall exactly. But someone else was holding her. I couldn't very well just steal her away from him.
I sighed to myself and then I said "Oh what the heck! No body here knows me! I don't have to come back!"
So I walked up to the guy and I punched him in the face. Before he could let her drop to the floor, I grabbed the cosplay sword and ran like crazy out of the library...

I am now stuck with the same cosplay sword twenty years later. I wish I had thought that day through better.
6
1
4
Juice
29 reads
Load 4 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Chapter 9 of Collection of Poetry
Written by Charlton_Ghosh

Mystery Writer

He seeks a theme,

to him, it is a game.

How can the man find,

what has been hidden?

He has some papers, a ream,

in here he stores his fame.

These loose leaves shall bind,

all his thoughts, even those forbidden.

4
1
1
Juice
22 reads
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Chapter 9 of Collection of Poetry
Written by Charlton_Ghosh
Mystery Writer
He seeks a theme,
to him, it is a game.
How can the man find,
what has been hidden?

He has some papers, a ream,
in here he stores his fame.
These loose leaves shall bind,
all his thoughts, even those forbidden.
4
1
1
Juice
22 reads
Load 1 Comment
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Day 1: Without looking up the definition define Brobdingnagian.
Written by Charlton_Ghosh

Brobdingnagian:

noun:

 One who finds them self in a public bathroom stall without toilet paper

verb:

 the act of being caught in a public bathroom without toilet paper

similar forms:

brobdingnagaining, brobdingnagainer, brobdingnagained

6
2
3
Juice
17 reads
Donate coins to Charlton_Ghosh.
Juice
Cancel
Day 1: Without looking up the definition define Brobdingnagian.
Written by Charlton_Ghosh
Brobdingnagian:
noun:
 One who finds them self in a public bathroom stall without toilet paper

verb:
 the act of being caught in a public bathroom without toilet paper

similar forms:
brobdingnagaining, brobdingnagainer, brobdingnagained
6
2
3
Juice
17 reads
Load 3 Comments
Login to post comments.
Advertisement  (turn off)