Script
Desperate survivors make final plea for entry into sealed city through last window to the outside world
Desperate survivors make final plea for entry into sealed city through last window to the outside world" The last window to the outside world was a small, grimy window high up on the wall of the city's central control room."
By Paul Smith3 years ago in Fiction
5 Guidelines for fiction writers
WHAT IS FICTION WRITTING? is the creation of fiction-based written compositions. Fictional writing frequently takes the form of a story intended to entertain readers or express the author's point of view. This could lead to the creation of a short story, novel, novella, screenplay, or drama, albeit these aren't the only forms of fictional writing. Novelists, playwrights, short story writers, radio playwrights, screenwriters, and other genre-specific authors all write fiction.
By Johanna Wanjiru3 years ago in Fiction
Dead Man Walking
EXT. – SEATTLE WOODS - DUSK (The year is 2045, set in the woods of Seattle. The scene opens with ELIZABETH on the ground, with an arrow in her chest. Ominous boots in slow motion walk past her, then begin running. AMARI is running after the shooter and is unsuccessful. Cut scene to three months prior. Transition idea: suspense notes ascending into black)
By Krystin Harrington3 years ago in Fiction
A Nightmare turned into Serenity!
A week ago, Standall, a high school student, was returning home late at night, humming tunes of old folklore music. All of a sudden, he put brakes on his bicycle because he saw a trail of Blood trickling down the empty dark street, illuminated only by a single street lamp.
By Syeda Ayesha Arshad3 years ago in Fiction
Fresh Fruit with a Rotten Taste
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. He wanted some quality time. It was his idea to rent this cabin and drive up the mountain in the middle of nowhere. And yet, here I am driving while he’s asleep in the passenger seat as we traverse this darkest country road. As I was moving forward, I saw brief glimpses of beauty all around me but it all fades into lost memories within seconds. Me, I have never truly been able to really figure out where life begins and where it ends, where I begin and where he ends. Like a snowflake, the memories melt as soon as they touch my skin. I don’t want to think it, but I know there is rot inside me. I don’t even know the man sitting next to me anymore. He’s lost to me. I don’t even know who the father of my child is anymore. Where did this all go wrong for me, why has God forsaken me. I look to the sky and I try to pray. I ask God to bless my mind and fill it with Christian thoughts, but the devil has a strong pull. “Idle hands” as they say, but that doesn’t mean anything at the end of this rope. The umbilical cord around my neck like a noose guiding me up to the burning heavens. Or maybe its just another hot flash. I wonder if my baby is as poisoned with Satan’s seed as my mind has been fondled by his hands. If I crash this car, if I just let go and close my eyes.. Is my baby doomed for hell? Am I the reason for it? Or will it all be forgiven and will this child within me be allowed past the golden gates of his grace.
By Geena-Maria van Dijk3 years ago in Fiction
Our Weekend Escape
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. I have been looking forward to this weekend for so long. I was logging off of all of my devices, social media and taking this time to relax in nature. To have the experience to just disconnect and live my life.
By Avril Doucette3 years ago in Fiction
