"Where are we?" I asked groggily as Colt shook me awake. 

    "I have no clue," he said.  "Looks like we're in some sort of cell." 

     "Go figure Genius," I muttered. 

     "Why thank you," he said in a voice that sounded mad. 

     "It wasn't a compliment," I said.

     "I recognize this place," He said. He ran his hand over the walls and then pulled sharply away. 

     "Really?" I ran my hand over the wall too but didn't pull back. I left my hand there, letting my hand feel the wall. A vision passed before my eyes. Slower. I thought. The vision went slower and I saw it. 

     "Did you see it?" I asked Colt. 

     "What do you think it is?" He asked. He looked at me expectantly. 

     "I slowed the video down so I could actually see what was going on. It was a ceremony of some sorts and I was there and so were you. You had a really good haircut though," I smiled at him as he ran his hand through his blonde hair. He blue eyes scanned the room.

      "Anything else?" He asked. He sat down up against the wall and sighed. 

      "No,"

      "What?" Colt asked. He stood up and sighed.  "We need to get home." 

      "We need to find out what that vision was about," I said. I slipped my hand into my pocket and then laughed. 

      "What?" he asked. 

      "You're worried about getting home and there is literally no way to get out," I said. I felt along the wall and the vision re-flashed in front of my eyes. My hand ran over a bump and then there was a click. 

      "What'd you do?" Colt asked, worry written all over his face. 

     "Why do you have to be such a worry wart?" I asked. I pushed against the the wall and then it gave way. I pushed it some more and it swung open like a door. I walked through and Colt followed, cautiously. 

     "Should we......?" he asked. 

     "Shhhhhh!" I shushed him and continued. Little lights lined the walls so we could see. I rounded a corner and stopped short. Colt bumped into me as he rounded the corner.

       "Who goes there?" A guard asked. He pointed his gun at me. "How did you get out?"

       "Go," the guard nudged me with his gun barrel and then pointed towards the door.

       "Okay, we'll go," Colt said. 

       "Wait," I whispered.  

      "Wha?" the guard stammered. I pinned him to the floor and then knocked him with the gun barrel. Since I had four brothers, I know how to do it. Thankfully.  

     "Come on," I motioned for Colt to follow me and rounded the corner again. Colt hesitated, looked down at the unconscious man, and then followed.  

     "What were you thinking?!?" Colt asked in an urgent whisper. 

     "Calm yourself," I opened a door. It was a plain room like what we had just in. I walked in and Colt came in after me. 

      "What it this place?" I half-asked myself. 

      "I don't....." Colt stopped short when he heard a click. He turned around and saw that the door had closed behind him, sealing us in. "Uh," 

     "Colt?" I said. "Come here." He what was the matter instantly. There was a portalish thing that was coming from my hand. 

      "What is it?" he asked. I shook my hand and the portalish thing came off and hovered in mid-air. 

       The portal sucked me and Colt in and we found ourselves standing in the middle of space. Comets shot past narrowly missing us. That's when it made sense. I was a timelord. 

Palpable is the love emanating from the

Residents who consider the app their

One true home.

Safety in numbers was just a phrase before Prose

Eased its way into our everyday lives.

Greetings, Prosers!

What a week it’s been this week. Not only have we had the launch of The Prose Collections, but we've also had our first Five Friend Friday.

#FFF

Five Friend Friday is where we share a Prose piece with five people of our choosing through whichever social media or communications channel we fancy using the #FFF hashtag.

The thinking behind this is to spread the word of what we think should be shared as well as Prose as a community itself. The share facility has always been on any posts on Prose, and the majority of you use them; but we thought we’d take it a step further.

This week I shared a piece on Twitter that was written by myself (@PaulDChambers). 

This wasn't just for vanity’s sake. As someone who has struggled at times with depression, this was a poem that helped me at the time when I was on the brink of another dabble with the black dog. It’s always there, but I didn’t let it in on this occasion, and so the poem was borne of triumph.

To share it seemed apt after our recent trips to prison where the struggle with mental health is a daily battle, as well as our @ShadowCounselor launch to assist where our Prosers may also be facing their own issues. This poem's link is attached.

We also had a concern raised about what to do if Prosers didn’t want the share buttons on their work to be used to widen their readership through #FFF and generally. The option has always been there, so it isn’t something we can stop others doing; but it is something that you can stop happening by using the hashtag #dontshare

Other than that, please share away to five friends and more as long as the pieces don’t have the #dontshare hashtag on them. We have a world of words that people should be reading and adding to - let's make people aware of them and it.

The Prose Collections

Now onto the changes on the site. We hope you’ve liked them and the new features as much as we do. Some seriously hard work has gone into the new version.

Now, as much as you can test the functionality of an update, which we did extensively; sometimes things don’t become apparent until a community as massive as Prose gets to play with it in real time.

Like any release (did someone say Apple?), we are aware of a few bugs that we will get sorted as soon as we can. However, one element of a major new feature where Prose Partners can create books within the app for the purpose of selling either as a whole or in chapters has issues.

The good news is that you can load as many as you wish, but you can currently only see the first ten chapters. This is an easy fix, so it will be corrected swiftly and with great importance.

Secondly, at the moment if a chapter is not for general consumption (IE, it will be on sale soon) you have to choose ‘me only’ or ‘unpublished’ in the privacy settings until the pricing feature is in place.

The privacy settings where you do this are at the top, under ‘options’ and ‘visibility’ for ‘me only’ or ‘status’ for the ‘unpublished’ option. However, if you do not intend to charge, publish away for all to see. Non partners, if you wish to release your book as a whole and not per chapter, you should also use these settings in the same way.

As soon as these bugs are dealt with, we will let you know. If there are any others you need to make us aware of, please use the normal channels of direct messages here or at info@theprose.com

My Darling, Donald.

Okay scratch that-

let’s not be too formal (lord knows you don’t know how to be anyway)

and I’ll just out with what I’m trying to say.

Being with you was so exciting in the beginning,

Your passion was such a rush, you were so different. So- above it all. I always thought you had just been misunderstood.

Looking back, I’ve realized that in all reality you were as hard to swallow as “Trump Steaks”

These last few months have been great, but I didn’t really think this was actually serious, and I think we can forget about tomorrow

I remember the day we met. I should have realized then you were playing me. When you told me ‘an extremely credible source’ -who I still haven’t met by the way- called you and told you my man wasn’t loyal. That he was lying to me about his birth certificate. Man you played me for a fool.

The next time I heard from you, it had been so long since that first little incident that you were basically irrelevant. But I heard you out when you told me that I just needed someone to blame for my problems.

Baby, I know you were hurt, but i’m not like you. I don’t need to build walls around my heart. You were like a frightened, hairless puppy.

So I gave you a chance. It was charming in a sad way. But then you were picking on handicapped Journalists and calling women ugly fat pigs, undermining war heroes who got caught (in the meantime you’re getting caught up in your lies) I had to hear through the grapevine about your little Trump University scandal, all the while you’re calling my neighbors down the road rapists and Ben Carson a child molester, I can’t be seen in public with you anymore. and don’t even get me started about the other day. Ain’t no one pledging allegiance to anyone in MY house but ME.

I’m not shallow, so don’t think this is because of your small hands. We just like different things. I like freedom and the pursuit of happiness, and you like the KKK and uneducated people. Unlike you, I like Megan Kelly and am not concerned with what comes out of her eyes or wherever. I take pride in how the world views me. I know it DOES matter what people think of you even IF you’ve got a young and beautiful piece of ass.

But look at the bright side, you won’t be lonely, what with you taking out terrorists’ families and dating your daughter.

And hey, I agree. I do need to focus on being great again. But with you in the picture, that isn’t happening.

Sincerely,

America.

P.S. I really think you should see someone about that growth on your head.

He watched, helpless, as the door closed behind her.

"Oh my god," Catherine said aloud, as the realization came to her. She had just closed the door on Jacob. But it would be understandable, right? Everyone would understand why she had had to do it. Of course they would, once they heard her story. They'd know that it would've been pointless to help Jacob. They had already gotten him and if she'd tried to help she would've died too. Yes, they'd understand.

But first, she just had to get the hell out of this god forsaken place.

She glanced down and shuddered as blood began seeping through the crack under the door, forming a pool around her Converse.

She didn't have long.

Catherine bounded away from the locked door and tore through the hallways of the abandoned asylum. Rusted signs hung from the ceiling directing to various wards, and a fine layer of dust coated everything else. The scent of mildew and old wood flooded her nostrils as she ran. Where she was going, she had no idea, but she hoped it was out.

The sound of the door getting ripped off its hinges and tossed away echoed through the labyrinth of hallways, urging Catherine to run faster. Her breathing became labored from both fear and exertion as she dashed through the halls. Suddenly, Catherine stopped and, looking around, found herself at the central staircase. The building was old enough to not have an elevator shaft and had relied on it for access between floors.

She looked down the steps and decided that she was on about the fourth floor. At the bottom, all she had to do was make a right and she'd reach her exit and safety. Wasting no time, she started her decent, taking two steps at a time in her desperation. At the second floor, she heard them.

They slid down the stairs after her with a gross wet sound but she refused to look back. She was too close to making it out and she would be damned if they got her.

Schlick schlick schlick they went, and that's when she tripped. Catherine was only at the second floor, but the steps were made of wood. For the first few steps she was sure she was fine, but then she fell on her arm with a crack. She called out but was cut short as she smacked her head.

Then everything went black.