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InvisibleWriter
Write to remember what you might otherwise forget
187 Posts • 67 Followers • 59 Following
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Challenge
A challenge of inspiration
My own stories bore me. Compose something interesting including the following phrases: on the night, of passion forlorn, youth's bravado, like it never happened, a silent plea, tireless wings, heartless tomorrow, shadows of dreams. Then, tag a fellow Proser and challenge them to compose a response to your submission (with or without the key phrases) in the comments. Your submission, and the author of your best response, will each receive an inflation-busting $10 for your efforts! Inspire great responses... win fantastic prizes!
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InvisibleWriter
• 27 reads

what once was

Talk to me in the shadows of dreams

In the soft excitement of keeping secrets

Meet me on the street corner

Kiss me in the back of the classroom

Then wink at the teacher like it never happened

Fall for me on the night of melting ice cream and skipping rocks

Fall in love with me under friday night lights and skinny dipping at the dock

Then turn around and give me a heartless tomorrow

Reminiscent of youth’s bravado

Moving on from late night drives and later night phone calls

Of passion forlorn, of memories

Moving on from making it work

From when we had tireless wings and promised forever

You scoffed

Told me we were too high school

And I let it be

My eyes a silent plea to stay

My voice yelling for you to go

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Challenge
What is your Disclaimer?
Give us that warning, that caution tape, that little bit of insight that peeks into your soul. Tell us what itches your insides when people cross that line so we don't cross it. All styles welcome, 500 Words or less. Tag me in the comments. Happy Writing.
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InvisibleWriter
• 20 reads

you let your words slip too easily

I'm tired of going to funerals

I'm tired of your baseless threats

you dangle life in your fingertips

to push away

when faced with inconvenience

your comments slip out

"I'm going to kill myself"

"let me just go walk out into traffic"

"how about I throw myself off that building"

and I interject

blunt words

NO

no more funerals

no more death

please stop pretending

that your lives are so easy to play with

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Challenge
Challenge of the Week CCXXV
You're on the wrong end of a chrome .45 with a pearl grip. Write a story or poem about what put you there, and which end of the chrome you're on. End the story with the last words you will either say to the other, or the last words you will ever hear. A big, fat $25 is at stake. Winner is decided by likes. Go.
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InvisibleWriter
• 20 reads

Goodbye

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I can hear the ringing from the sound of his fingernails on the metal barrel and it lets me know exactly what's being spun around in his hands. A chrome .45, pearl grip, shined to gleaming. Even over the phone, I can imagine what's happening perfectly, the threat of it hanging over our heads for years now. He's in faded jeans, a red flannel, surrounded by trees. There's a knife tucked into his belt, swung low.

There's silence on the phone, before I whisper breaking the tension that began to exist the moment I picked up his call.

"Why are you doing this?"

He scoffs. "I told you that I didn't want to see past 25. I figured with a couple good memories under my belt, I'd just accelerate the timeline a little bit. Go out on some happier times."

I'm over 50 miles away, driving home from work, and even without being near, I know that we're both at the wrong end of that stupid, no-good pistol that's being thrown back and forth between his hands.

"You don't have to do this."

"I'm going to."

I'm pleading now. "Why? What about your sisters? Your friends? What good is going to come of this? You don't need to do this. It's not too late." I can feel the tears starting to pool, desperation leaking into my voice. "You don't have to."

His reply hurts. "You can't change it now. I'm not even sure why I called you."

"Maybe because you knew I'd try and argue you out of it? Because this is a stupid decision that you shouldn't make?"

He drawls his word slowly. "Nah, I think.. I think I just trusted you enough to say goodbye."

I hear the safety click right before he hangs up the phone, in time with my pain-ridden whisper.

"Goodbye."

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Challenge
Low Fuel Light
Your interpretation. I'll be at the gas station.
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InvisibleWriter
• 23 reads

at 80 mph

I fell in love with you over a patch in my tires

and endless miles of highway driving

I fell in love with the bounce of your knee in the passenger seat

with the songs that you skipped as you controlled the aux

I fell in love with the tap of your fingers on the dashboard

with the feel of your hand on my knee

I fell in love with the way that you would get out of the car at the gas station

to fill my tank as the low fuel light glowed

while I made faces at you from the window

I fell in love with you at 80 miles per hour

running over the speed limit all the way

I fell in love with you at every stop

every destination

every moment in between

every moment after

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Challenge
help solve one of philosophy's greatest questions: are there really plenty of fish in the sea?
The expressions is common but may be flawed or false on many levels. help solve this persistent question.
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InvisibleWriter
• 12 reads

I am allergic to fish

When my sister brought her new boyfriend home for Christmas, all of the attention was on them

We hashed out small talk and interrogations in the same conversation

There wasn't any room for questioning me

By Easter, they were old news, just another round in the holiday gamut

and I was left lonesome

with questions and pity and problems and people

telling me there are plenty of fish in the sea

and I try not to be superficial

with the emphasis on fish

but if we pretend that there are 7.9 billion fish in the sea

only 4.2% of them live in the same sea that I am in

331 million accessible fish

sure.

plenty of fish.

I'm a picky eater though- let's call it allergies.

Half of those fish really aren't for me.

115 million fish. plenty of fish.

But hey- turnabout is fair play. At least 7% of those fish think that I'm not for them either.

107 million fish left. plenty of fish.

but some of those fish are much too young to eat.

and some of those fish are just a bit too old.

I'd make a conservative estimate that 20% of fish are the right age.

21 million fish. plenty of fish.

but the sea is pretty big.. I'm really only going to be able to find fish in the same reef as me. maybe the neighboring reef? that's 4%.

840,000 fish. plenty of fish.

Half of those fish have already been caught. Tangled into some other fisherman's web.

320,000 fish. plenty of fish.

Half of those fish are in hiding. No one is ever going to catch them.

160,000 fish. plenty of fish.

But sometimes fishing is a competition.

and all that fighting over fish? well it gives some of the fish baggage and it scares another chunk away.

80,000 fish. plenty of fish.

and 4% of those fish are just a little too small to catch.

76,000 fish. give or take. plenty of fish.

Some fish are poisonous.

68,000 fish.

Some fish think that I'm poisonous.

60,000 fish.

and I've learned that some fish have opinions.

that don't really get along with the school of fish that I subscribe to.

30,000 fish.

and some fish. some fish really are just friends.

15,000 fish.

and some fish. well they think that I'm just a friend.

7,500 fish.

Some fish you really really think that you like. But someone ends up getting thrown back. Sometimes you know a fish a little too well. Sometimes your friend knows a fish. Sometimes the fish is already part of your family.

4,000 fish?

I'm starting to think that there might not be plenty of fish.

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Challenge
Write what you feel
The title is self-explanatory :)
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InvisibleWriter
• 19 reads

spelling it out

Right now I love you like a best friend

like movie nights and coffee

ranting about work and only seeing each other on weekends

I love you like a best friend

we don't spell it out

it's love ya's

and ily's

and luv

not

I love you.

but I think it would be easy to love you

to slip into the idea of more than friends

to being my first phone call every time

to thinking about you at night

to holding hands

to saying I love you

all the way through.

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Challenge
Challenge of the Week CCXXIV
You've checked out, had enough, are unplugging for a year, and heading off into a nice place in the woods with enough supplies to write the novel you've always wanted to, and to be alone. You've decided to email yourself a paragraph to copy/paste for all the texts you're about to send to your people before you drive off. What do you say? 25 dollars to the top recluse. Winner will be judged by likes.
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InvisibleWriter
• 23 reads

to my people

I thought about making this a phone call, but I thought that would be unfair.

This isn't the type of message to leave in a voicemail box that might never get checked.

I'm checking out. Just for a little while.

I'm going to take a year off, in the little cabin up north. There's a lake there and miles of trees and silence.

I need the time, so please don't convince me not to go. The memories will be simpler there, and I hope the writing will be unburdened.

You can just think of this as a really long extension of a practical joke. That in the future you'll look back at and laugh about.

About the year that I went so numb as to live alone in the woods for a year.

but remember what our old friend said so long ago?,

that anything is funny as long as one person laughs?

well.. I'm always laughing.

I promise to come back.

I love you.

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Challenge
Challenge of the Month XXXIX
Write a short poem about your own private Hell. The tortured who reigns gets 100 big ones. Winner will be picked by Prose. Go.
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InvisibleWriter
• 31 reads

hell is a competition

my sister tells me that I need therapy

to work though the grief that stains my soul

but I spill my trauma to the internet

ignoring the ethics of the corporate spiral

that monetizes our hell

is this just a twisted stage of grief?

guilt playing wingman to bargaining

wondering what death touched words will drop from my fingers

I'll whisper it you

reveal the secrets that make my mother cry

She was 8 years old.

She was two weeks away from being 20.

He had just reached 21.

She didn't jump at 23, he didn't crash his car at 25.

But he had a gun at 21.

I broke speed limits so that I could watch my grandmother die and I still went to work the next day.

I am 21 years old and I'm told my grief is powerful.

Part of me dies a little inside. Part of me already was.

but damn,

I guess I always knew that hell was a competition.

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Challenge
Random topics : Burger coronation edition
yes, it has come once more, though many thought it will never happen again in our lifetimes. nonetheless it is here and there are only choice, to disregard, OR to enter this accursed challenge, chose one, few, all or none of the following topics and post whatever comes to mind, as long as you don't need to edit. editing IS IMPOSSIBLE!!!! and the topics are : 1) in a world were editing posts on theprose.com challenges was possible. 2)lesser known facts about the fruit shop biz. 3)the coronation of the userper, Charles the III. 4)chmucks and the instability of three-legged round tables. 5)the last pane of glass to break 6)the contents of Darius Milhaud's pockets 7)Joe Pesci's pursuit of artistic perfection 8) Hibiscus printed sarongs for man, an milk tea. 9)uncrowned Kings that made a difference. 10)the earthquake in japan, mostly unreported by the so-called free press. 11)the shining of cobblestones and other monarchical pudenda. 12) the dragonflies that shamefully copulate in midair. 13) the rejection of established forms and other dead ends. 14)the bars on the kitkat go left to right here. 15)the smelting of iron ore in Pomerania 16)tent-peg cleaning in the book of judges. 17) clif-face spotting in the age of uncertainty. 18) essential things one needs to know, when sparring with a superior ninja, such as @Estherflowers1 19)edge reavers , wedge drivers, and dredge vintners. 20)particular thanks to combustible elements. -+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+plusminusplusminusplusminus:can't they get along? +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+ special acknowledgement to the well gifted to @7v7 who has recently made a breakthrought in the development of fusion energy, which may finally solve the problem of enrgy and global warming. his further efforts in poverty and illiteracy eradication has also not gone unnoticed, neither is his recent rescue of ALL the children from a burning orphanage likely to be forgotten any time soon.
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InvisibleWriter
• 28 reads

imperceptible

you exist as a moment between milliseconds

the record scratch of time as the world around you freezes

you are a million imperceptible moments

a pane of glass right before it shatters

the desperate attempts for reproduction in the life cycle of a dragonfly

you are the gust of wind that knocks out a single leaf on an oak tree in a stranger's backyard

the gut feeling in my stomach as I choose to cross the street

you are a yellow traffic light, so close to red that some might call it orange

a still expanse of water in front of a child learning how to skip rocks

you are a timer hitting zero before it dings

you are my every in-between

my gasp of air

my uncounted seconds

my everything

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Challenge
Spelling Test #14
You all know the drill, but I'll repeat myself. Use these 20 words in any form. Please italicize, Capitalize or bold them so I know you used them. Poem or prose, word limit 300. Here is your list: cemetery, rate, identification, waterfall, hostile, meet, remitted, borrow, horoscope, reveal, monster, loss, project, horse, reverse, expand, hover, consider, love, glower PS: I'm judging these myself. Please remind me if I forget.
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InvisibleWriter in Words
• 12 reads

if death would remit me a question

my heart was a monster

it buried love six feet under

my body the personal cemetery for whatever emotions could break my hostile façade

my body knew loss

my horoscope mapped grief across my future

expanding at an exponential rate from what was revealed in the reverse of my past

my glower was a shield

to scare off any potential break in the waterfall of control I hid behind

I consider grief my identification

it has burned itself into every cell of my body

it projects itself into every story that I tell

it hovers like a shadow, following every step that I take

if I was prone to gambling

I would bet on the horse named grief to take me for a ride

because whichever way it ran, loss would still be the end result

I hope that on the day that I meet death

I will be remitted to ask a question

to wonder why with all of the borrowed time that exists

why death still took theirs too soon

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