stutterstep

42 reads

Terror on the Farm

As it turns out, that’s exactly what happens when you confuse horses, chickens, and goats.

Devise a fifteen-word story that begins with Love and ends with Hate. Inspired by a challenge recently created by the very talented @Lexicon. You may tag me if you'd like @KarinaGrey.

Erika111

14 reads

Perspective

Love is for the way you look at me

Til your eyes fill with hate.

Challenge

Write me the most hilarious "phobia" you can find: don't forget to tag me @HashtagFiction [ If you can't write 15 words, just put some random stuff at the bottom of the post :) ]

yada yada yada

WordCatch in Comedy

82 reads

Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia

This is too ironic not to be funny and more well known than you'd think. This 36 letter (I might have counted wrong) word is defined as the fear of long words. *Dramatic sigh* cruel, cruel irony.

Challenge

Write me the most hilarious "phobia" you can find: don't forget to tag me @HashtagFiction [ If you can't write 15 words, just put some random stuff at the bottom of the post :) ]

yada yada yada

Cover image for post Anatidaephobia., by Clarity

Clarity in Comedy

616 reads

Anatidaephobia.

Anatidaephobia, the fear that somewhere, somehow, a duck is watching you.

LOL. This one was also from Gary Larson's Far Side

Challenge

Write me the most hilarious "phobia" you can find: don't forget to tag me @HashtagFiction [ If you can't write 15 words, just put some random stuff at the bottom of the post :) ]

yada yada yada

HashtagFiction in Comedy

71 reads

Luposlipaphobia

Created by Gary Larson for his The Far Side, luposlipaphobia is:

The fear of being pursued by timber wolves around a kitchen table while wearing socks on a newly waxed floor.

(https://www.allaboutcounseling.com/library/luposlipaphobia/)

Challenge

A 5-minute mind doodle

Set your timer, doodle words with your mind and show us!

cristang in Poetry & Free Verse

52 reads

mind vomit

I want to drink wine and laugh.

Laugh at the world for trying to pretend that it's not falling apart.

Laugh at people for pretending to be important.

Laugh at myself for pretending that I'm...anything. Or anyone.

Instead I sit in somber silence

that sometimes turns

to weeping

Weeping for the broken pieces of the world

war

poverty

racism

hate

hate.

The drinking softens the edges but sharpens the blow. My mind is in a comfortable haze, enough for words to flow. But not enough to comfort me. Not enough to make any of this okay when the buzz wears off.

I want to be okay. I want the world to be okay. I want the fires to stop burning. I want the big orange man to take his little finger off the big red button. I want my house back, the one I grew up in, the one that's empty and freshly painted and carpeted and waiting for someone else to move in while I sit in my apartment with all these new, unfamiliar things that are slowly, slowly starting to feel like a home, but not Home.

I want to be okay with the state of my mind. Guess I'll just drink about it.