Saturday, August 31, 2013

Challenge #41

Hello Everyone!

The challenge for this week is to write a story based off of the sin: Gluttony.

"Meaning to gulp down or swallow, the over-indulgence and over-consumption of anything to the point of waste. Considered a sin because of the excessive desire for food, and its withholding from the needy. Gluttony can be interpreted as selfishness; essentially placing concern with one's own interests above the well-being or interests of others.
Medieval church leaders  took a more expansive view of gluttony, arguing that it could also include an obsessive anticipation of meals, and the constant eating of delicacies and excessively costly foods. Aquinas went so far as to prepare a list of six ways to commit gluttony, comprising:
  • Praepropere – eating too soon
  • Laute – eating too expensively
  • Nimis – eating too much
  • Ardenter – eating too eagerly
  • Studiose – eating too daintily
  • Forente – eating wildly"

If anyone would like to show us their work on this sin, please e-mail us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

See you Wednesday!

Friday, August 30, 2013

Fan Friday

                Unfortunately Seems Typical


                She was beautiful. She was gorgeous. A golden river of hair flowing down her neck.  Her smooth curvaceous body, running along his. Her full chest against his. Her voluptuous lips moving, kissing, caressing. His fingers swam through her flawless skin, as they embraced. She descended upon him and he upon her. Her tongue lightly brushed against his ear, and she smiled sensually as she whispered, “Do it. I need it now.”
                He woke up. She was not lying next to him. She was not even here at all. She had never been. He sighed, removed the blanket covering him, and got out of bed. As he did so, he felt his manhood strain against his boxers. He adjusted himself so he’d be slightly more comfortable, and looked at the clock. It was seven o’clock in the morning. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He figured he ought to eat something before he went to work, but he wasn’t very hungry, so he headed to the washroom to brush his teeth.  Along the way there, bits and pieces of his illusionary night of passion with her floated through his mind. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. Why do I feel like this? She’s my friend, nothing more. Sure, she’s beautiful, but that’s the only reason I’m attracted to her... He reached the bathroom and after finding and preparing everything he needed, he began to brush his teeth. He looked at himself in the mirror as he mused. Maybe I do actually like her, but physically is just the most obvious one. An imaginary image of her wrapped around him floated through his mind at that moment, and he knew deep down inside that it was her body he coveted, and not her. I... I gotta get that crap outta my head... She’s a person, my friend, not some sex doll to get off on! I don’t want to use her like that... I don’t... He finished brushing his teeth and looked at himself in the mirror again. He sighed, and stood up straight, and tried to make eye contact with his twin shadow in that strange backwards world. He wondered what it would be like inside her. His member rubbed against the cotton of his boxers. He pulled them down, and started to pleasure himself shamefully. First he thought about entering her, and making her scream in ecstasy. I am a freaking piece of crap, he thought as he finished. What’s wrong with me...?

-Josh-

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Autumn Lovers

It was autumn and the air outside was the coldest it had been since the beginning of fall. Harmony and Ethan decided to spend their evening indoors. In the bedroom clothes were strewn all about. Harmony’s pink and black lace bra hung from a lampshade, while Ethan’s belt and pants lay crumpled on the ground. Each breath came faster than the last. He could feel her heart beat thrumming harder and harder against her rib cage. Between her lips, a gentle sigh escapes and he inhales it tasting her sweet breath. He pulls her closer to him and she moans. All he wants is her. Her skin is warm against his. Their bodies are in tune with each other. Minutes and hours and seconds do not exist. It is only her and him. 
The dull sound of the city outside can be heard, but inside the apartment the sound of heavy panting fills the room.  Her hair is in a crazy mess of curls that move against the pillow. She wraps her legs around his body, her nails barely digging into his shoulders. With each thrust her moans become more frequent. She opens her eyes and he stares down at her. He is stunned by her beauty, and in her eyes is a hungry wanting for him. It’s the same feeling that surges through his whole body. One last thrust and she dissolves beneath him in a wave of pure ecstasy. Her breath is caught in her mouth, her legs grip harder around his side and her nails leave marks in his skin. She lets out one final moan as he finishes. In this moment, the lines between love and lust blur together. 
Ethan gently rolls to the side of her and lies next to her. Their breathing begins to slow down, and they hold hands. Harmony gives a small chuckle before turning toward Ethan. She looks at him and smiles in content, her heart feels like it might burst of her chest. “I love you, you know that right?” She says. He smiles back at her before leaning in close and kissing her on the forehead. “I do..and I love you too.” He whispers in her ear. They lay in bed cozy underneath the blankets while the red and gold leaves begin to fall from the trees. 

Taken down for Editing

Challenge: Write a story based off if the sin of lust.
Ink's story has been taken down for editing.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Challenge #40

Hello everyone!

Sorry for the delay, and I hope most of you are keeping your oxygen clear! I know those of us in Reno aren't thanks to the smoke in the mountains. Stupid obligatory August-September fires.

Anyway, if you remember our video we posted for Fan Week, after the Angel Challenge was the Seven Deadly Sins Challenge. This means that the next seven challenges will be of the sins variety! So, the sin we will be working with this week is the sin of:

Lust: an intense desire. It is usually thought of as excessive sexual want; however, the word was originally a general term for desire. Therefore lust could involve the intense desire of money, food, fame, or power as well.

If anyone would like to share their lust filled creations with us for Fan Friday, please do! Just send us your submission via e-mail to inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

Also, TEN MORE CHALLENGES UNTIL ANOTHER FAN WEEK! Woo!!!

Friday, August 23, 2013

Fan Friday #2

There it was again. That heavy, oppressive feeling.  It had been bothering Abigail all day. But now that she laid in her bed in her small apartment, alone in the dark quietness of the night, simply texting a few friends, the uncertain miasma that had followed her as she went about her business that day suddenly turned into a blanket of fear. She began to hear some children crying, but almost laughing at the same time. Her eyes widened, and her heart started pounding. She turned on her light and curled into a ball. They were back. Even though she hadn’t felt their presence in a while, she could feel them now, as if they were standing right beside her bed. They were crying, louder and louder. She didn’t know why, she couldn’t even think. She tucked her blanket over her head, and faced away from where they seemed to be wailing. Then it began from the other side of the bed too. She whispered to nobody in particular in sheer terror, “Make it stop, make it stop...”
At that moment, the phone in her hand began to vibrate, and the screen lit up. It was a text from her friend Jaden, whom she had been texting before they showed up.
“Hey, sorry for the late response. Family thing happened .But to answer your question, yeah, it would be pretty great to have everyone get together tomorrow. What did you have in mind?”
She replied as fast as she could, “The ghost children are crying again, what should I do”
A few seconds later, Jaden responded, “Uh, ghost children? Are you sure it’s not real children?”
Neighbours don’t have any and you know I don’t,” came her reply.
“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this,” he said, attempting to convey a sense of calm as much as much as one could through text messaging.
A few minutes passed without a reply from Abigail. Jaden began to wonder if something was actually wrong. “Hey Abby, are you okay?”
She had tried to get out of bed, to escape, but as she did, amongst the wailing and crying, a child’s voice giggled, and said, “Snip, snip, snip, you run with scissors, then you trip, trip, trip!”
She dove back beneath the covers when the sound of scissors opening and closing began to sound too close to her for comfort. It seemed the bed was the only place that was proven at least remotely safe from the children, so now she lay under the sheets, paralyzed with fear. She hugged herself, unable to think or doing anything else. Then her phone vibrated, and somewhat broke her fearful trance.
Hey Abby, are you okay?” It was Jaden,
“It’s getting louder,” came the frantic answer. A few moments, be they seconds or minutes passed.
I know you don’t like it, but I’ll pray for you. God will send an angel or something, I’m sure of it, so you can calm down. You’ll be protected,” was his fateful answer.
***
                Scared out of her wits, she was under the bed covers, with eyes clamped as shut as they could be. The screaming, the crying, the wailing, it was getting to be too much, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take the maddening caterwauls. A new presence entered the room though. She had never felt this one before.  Then the screeches stopped shortly, but came back. This time though, they were different. The children were unsettlingly seething with rage. A hate emanated in shouts and cries like she had never felt before, and it was all directed at this new presence. Responding to the threat, the enigmatic presence flared with a great and terrifying power that seemed to blot out the presence of the children. That blinding power faded, and still hidden under the sheets, Abigail was filled with a strange mix of calm, exhilaration, and peace. The screaming stopped, and she felt her demented tormentors were gone. The mysterious powerful presence itself lingered for a moment, and then seemed to fade, as if leaving. Abigail pulled the sheets from her head, and looked around. Nothing was out of place, and now she was alone. Her phone vibrated.
                “Everything okay? Are the ghost children still there? ”asked Jaden.
No, they’re gone,” she texted back. “But I think I’m going to have nightmares about this for a while.”
                “Haha, the important thing is you’re alright, right?

                With that night’s experiences still swimming in her head, she could only respond,“Yeah, I guess...”

-Josh-

Fan Friday #1

she was lowered from heaven on red ribbons of blood and tears. wings once crisp white now black and torn like old fabric.
her soft delicate feet touched ground for the first time and all she'd once known was gone. now she wonders aimlessly through this thing called life. once a pure flower, sheltered from the world. Now a part of its never ending cycle of chaos, but she is not alone.
there is one that makes her see the light still. one that works to repair her, tirelessly, though both know not all rips can be so easily sewn. in her eyes he's the one with the real halo...even if it is a little tarnished.

-Dani-

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Taken Down For Editing


Challenge: Write a story based off of angels.
Feather's story has been taken down for editing.

Taken down for editing

Challenge: Write a story based off of angels.
Ink's story has been taken down for editing.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Challenge #39

Good evening! I hope you're all doing splendidly!

So, the challenge for this week is to write a story based off of Angels. We can have angels as characters, or a theme, whatever.

If you would like to join us for this challenge, do! We accept any original creative work! Just e-mail your submissions to inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com for Fan Friday!

See you all on Wednesday!

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Taken Down For Editing


Challenge: Write a story based off of a dream that made no sense.
Feather's story has been taken down for editing

Taken down for editing

Challenge: Write a story based off of a dream that made no sense.
Ink's story has been taken down for editing.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Challenge #38

Evenin` everyone!

So the challenge for this week is to write a story based on a dream that made no sense to you at all.

Would you like to submit something for Fan Friday based off this challenge? Please do! We will accept any of your creative works for Fan Friday as long as it is based off of the challenge for the week! Just e-mail us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

See you all on Wednesday!

Friday, August 9, 2013

Fan Friday Submission #2

I felt him before I heard or saw him. Then again that tends to happen when Johnny cash is blasting in your ears and you are staring at a tree full of bees. His breathe was warm on my neck and his arms quickly fell into place around my waist. Letting go of one of my sign handles I placed my hand over his and turned my head slightly to see him grinning down at me.
"Damn Leiland one of these days you are going to give me a heart attack sneaking up on me like this all the time." I playfully scolded as I took the earbuds from my ears. He released me and took my seven foot sign from my hand.
"Well babe we wouldn't have this problem if you weren't so easy to scare." I faced him and as the butterflies appeared in my stomach I decided that was the perfect opening. I had been trying to figure out how to tell him my news all morning but every time I had started to practice my words didn't sound right. Squaring my shoulders and taking a deep breath I smiled and began.
"You know what it's my turn to give you a heart attack." He eyed me with curiosity but suddenly both of us turned at the sound of a muscle car.
"Ah that's a 57' bell air babe." He said with the excitement only a true car enthusiast could have. I sat down on the side walk in front of where he'd laid his bike and knew the convo would be on cars for probably my entire break. Honestly I didn't mind plus I had another break in a few hours maybe by then the cowardly lion would come by and share some courage. Sure enough twenty minutes later he handed me my sign and cut off his own sentence
"There it is! That's what John Dillinger's car looked like babe."
"Oh ok I know that car." I said honestly with a smile. I was proud of myself I had followed almost everything he had told me. I watched him as he secured his gloves and mounted his bike then kissed me, said I love you, and started to ride off. Then as if I was in a movie my world went into slow motion as the chain of the bike slipped off and Leiland went over the handle bars. I could feel that heart attack coming as he hit the side walk on all fours.
"Are you ok?!?!" I asked trying to hold back the panicked voice I knew was on the verge of escaping. He looked at the bike as he stood with a smile of half amusement half irritation before looking up and saying
"Yeah I'm fine." I let out a sigh of relief which was very quickly followed by a scream of terror as a car swerved and jumped the curb hitting Leiland straight on. I don't remember much of what exactly happened after that except stroking his hair and telling him I loved him and he couldn't leave us. The driver who had in fact been texting had broken Leilands leg in two places and fractured three ribs and sent him into a coma. I sat there with him everyday just talking til the day he woke up and said
"What did you mean 'you can't leave us' what us?"

-Dani

Fan Friday Submission #1

Another Morning
By Josh
Another morning, another day at school. So here I was, waiting at the bus stop. 20 minutes early for God knows why. Being the first and only person at the stop, I had a lot of time to muse to myself. “Gee, it’d be sweet if I climbed that tree right now. I could totally ninja attack Anthony from there.” Of course, before I could, I saw my friend Anthony coming towards me from across the little park where he lived. “Eh, maybe tomorrow...”
                Anthony walked over, in his casual, but confident walk. As he walked through the small park he stopped briefly and exaggeratedly admired the cool spring scenery. As he approached me, he stopped, and glared at me briefly, and then he stared with a freakish predatory gaze at my heart. “Uh oh,” I thought. “I know where this is going...”
“Eagle Claw!” he exclaimed as he shot a hand towards my heart. Reacting the same as usual, I slapped his hand away to deflect the lethal attack. After I had succeeded in doing so, he glared at me again, and said through gritted teeth, “I’ll get you next time.”
“Uh huh,” I said, my usual response. Both our stances relaxed. “So...” I continued. “Did that cylinder player come in the mail yet?”
“No,” Anthony said with a slightly disappointed tone. “If it doesn’t come today, I will have to destroy the UPS man...”
I laughed. “Well, I’m sure it’ll come soon. It’s three days late. If it doesn’t, come, we can teach them all a lesson with our wiffle bats.”
“How would you kill someone with a wiffle bat?” Anthony wondered aloud.
“Maybe you could break it and stab people with the sharp edges?” I suggested.
“Maybe they would just die from internal bleeding if you kept beating them enough with it...” he continued.
“Hm... not bad, I like it.” Our conversation continued like this until the bus came. At the next stop, we looked for our friend Christopher.
“Is he there?” Anthony asked.
“Nah.” I responded. “Looks like he’s being a weasel today.”
“That dirty weasel turd...” Anthony muttered as he shook his fist with the mock rage that burned against Christopher for going to school chamber choir that morning. After a 15 minute bus ride, and an enthralling conversation on the topics of zombies, guns, World War II battle tactics, and how ethical assisted suicide is, we arrived at school. Walking into the school, I asked Anthony the age old question, “What’s first period?” He gave his usual shrug of indifference and ignorance, and we continued to our usual meeting spot at the top of the northeast flight of stairs. The entire gang was there, including Christopher who had just gotten out of choir practice. We exchanged “heys” and “hellos” with everyone there as Anthony snuck up on the individual known to us known as Adman, and violently assassinated him. Adman recovered shortly and brushed the dirt off his shirt as he got up, and greeted us with open arms. We stood beside Christopher chatted with him and made sure to call him “weasel” for his missing riding on the bus today. Life continued on as normal, with everyone making jokes about video games, work, dead babies, and the like. Our friend Brown was making fun of his own massive head again, claiming we’re all orbiting around him due to it generating a massive gravitational field. As we were all jesting with each other, I took a quick break from the little circle of wit and humour and looked outside the large glass window behind me. For some reason there was some Asian guy walking around with a rainbow coloured sombrero on his head carrying a long board, which was kind of weird. Not long afterwards some drama students walked past us with large cardboard cupcake props. It was kinda surreal. I returned my attention to my friends, and wound up getting mock disemboweled for making a lame pun. Keeling over dead on the floor in front of Terrance’s girlfriend, she stared at me with eyes only slightly widened, she quickly said, “Wow, that was violent.”
The bell rang, and lucky me, it was History with Anthony, and several other friends first block. History was a joke as it always was. Most of us in our little circle of friends were breezing though it with A’s no problem. So we spent the majority of our time being wise guys and cracking jokes and goofing off all class. As I arrived there, the door was locked. Apparently our teacher hadn’t come yet. So I initiated my usual ritual. I put my hand on the door handle, and began to rattle it. I kept at it for a few minutes, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Sure enough, she rounds the corner, and sees me doing what I’m doing. The change of expression on her face was a strange one, as if she was expressing, “I can’t believe I have to put up with this crap.” I step aside to let her unlock the door, and as she does, she looks at me and asks, “There Josh, are you happy? The door’s open.”
I look at her with a face beaming with excitement and relief. “Oh yes! I was afraid that the doorknob gods had abandoned us, and weren’t going to let us in! But we prayed and prayed to them, then you came!”
“Great...” she muttered.
We all filed into the class, and I continued exclaiming, “Behold! I have seen the light! I have seen what few men have dared to dream!” As we settled down, our little group settled down in our usual spot, we made our usual pre-lesson shenanigans. I looked at the bottom of my poor desk, and saw the usual rainbow colour of gum brighten up the dingy desk. “Dear goodness,” I said aloud. “This is disgusting, isn’t it?” I turned to my kleptomaniac neighbour to my right, Flint, just as he had his hand sticking out to steal my binder sitting on the floor.
“Hi Josh,” he smiled and waved at me with his other hand. Even after a few good slaps to the wrist, and one stab with my pencil, he still got away with my binder. Oh well. He gave it back like, two seconds later. After what seemed like too short of a time joking around, class actually started, and the teacher began her lesson.
“Today, we’ll be talking about the Allied invasion of Normandy. It began on a day known as D-day, and-”
Anthony, sitting in front of me interrupted her with a kernel of brilliance. “Boy, that is D-lightful.” The entire class laughed, and the teacher only rolled her eyes and sighed. But Anthony wasn’t done yet. He turned to me and said, “Hey Josh, I hate to ask, but did Juno that? I bet you did Nazi that coming.” It was a long class for the teacher to say the least.

Second Period, second class, time for Chemistry. I raced a classmate, henceforth known as The Browski to Chem class. Whoever won typically varied from day to day, but today I was fortunate enough to win. I let showers of praise rain down upon me in my head, reveling in my triumph. We sat down beside our usual deskmate Paris, and chatted with him for a bit.
“Did you guys finish that worksheet on thermodynamics?” Paris asked.
“Yeppers,” The Browski said with his trademark campiness.
“What about you Josh?” Paris looked at me.
“Uh, nope,” I said with my usual admission of laziness.
“Josh,” he said with a sarcastic scolding, “You’re not gonna make it through this class. You’re gonna be like those slacker guys who poured cereal into the sink in the washrooms this morning.”
“What? Somebody actually did that?” The Browski asked.
“Oh yeah, I heard about it this morning. I even saw a picture of it on Adman’s phone.” Adman turned around from his seat 2 rows in front of us.
“What? Oh the cereal thing, oh yeah.” Adman walks over to us, and shows the picture of a sink in one of the boy’s bathroom filled with an entire box of Fruit Loops.
“Huh, that’s pretty weird,” The Browski said. “I guess that would explain why I heard a vacuum running in the bathrooms this morning.”
                “What a waste of perfectly good Fruit Loops,” I bemoaned. All present solemnly agreed. “You know, this kinda reminds me of that time last year when all those plastic forks and knives were found stuck into the school field.”
                “Oh yeah!” Adman said. “Who did that anyways? Who has the time to come here and stick hundreds of pairs of forks and knives into the ground?”
                “I thought it was some douches from the school we beat during the big football game sometime around then,” Paris stated.
“Maybe,” I said. “But-” I was interrupted as our Chem teacher started class.
One uneventful note taking class later, we were let loose to wreak havoc during our lunch break. I stopped by the computer lab, affectionately known as the “nerd cave” to catch up with some friends there. I stopped by to chat with James, a guy who has the strange distinction of looking Mexican despite not even being remotely related to anyone Mexican.  As soon as Anthony showed up, I knew we would improvise some sort of tag team on our unwitting friend.
“Hey James, where’s your girlfriend?” Anthony asked.
“She’s at a doctor’s appointment.” he stated.
“Is she pregnant?” Anthony asked
                “What? No!” James sputtered out in confusion.
                “Are you positive?” Anthony continued.
                “Yes, I’m positive!” James exclaimed.
“Maybe when she’s there she’ll find out she’s actually positive too,” I added.
James kinda sorta lost it at that point. “Twelve! Twelve, you guys are twelve!”
                “Your face is twelve,” I sophisticatedly rebutted.
                Suddenly Christopher jumped in out of nowhere and shouted, “Your mom’s twelve!”
                Being the cool guy I am, I rolled with it. “Your mom’s face is twelve. In bed. If you know what I mean.”
                Anthony mused for a second. “What does that mean?”
                James just pointed and the door and while laughing said, “Get out.”
Figuring that I should go meet up with some other friends, I did start to leave. But not before I walked up to Adman sitting beside Terrance and said, “Women with lots of chest hair, think about it.” Adman clutched his head and laid his head on the desk in front of him, laughing or crying, or something, moaning almost as if he was in pain. Terrance just looked at me with eyes wide open and a face of horror. Brown who was nearby simply just put his hand on his chin, and looked contemplative wondering what that actually would be like, and if it would be so bad. I didn’t stick around to hear his answer.
                I made my way down the hall to the bright yellow metal bench where I eat my lunch. There I saw most of the so called “We-eat –lunch-together,” club. I said my greetings to everyone there and sat down in my usual place beside Melissa. Apparently I had arrived in the middle of a conversation that as usual, was incredibly weird.
                “I like this one: ‘Do you have any French in you? Do you want some?’” Melissa said as she laughed.
                “I like your grandma’s Shige. ‘Hey, wanna go smoke some weed?’” Lynn said.
                Shige laughed, and then she spoke. “Oh yeah... That’s a really funny one.”
                “How is that a pick up line?” I asked, whilst grabbing my sandwich from my lunch kit.
                “Who knows,” Shige replied.
                We all continued to sit there for some time eating our lunches and talking about various mundane things, such as school, books, movies, trannies, and how crazy insane some dude got when he huffed some Lysol. You know, normal stuff. Eventually though, the bell rang. Shige, Melissa and I all had French class coming up next, so we bid goodbye to our lunch companions and departed, though as it turns out, Shige didn’t wind up going to class because of some reason or another.
               
Well, another French class. Another worksheet. Which was fill-in-the-blanks using a word bank of all things. I looked at the first question on the sheet.
_____ Un moyen abordable de se déplacer plus facilement, et se moquer de la vie.
Which kinda trasnlates to :
_____ An affordable way to get around, and have some fun in life.
Scanning the word bank, I see “voiture” or car. Somehow though, I get in in my head that “Hookers,” would be a lot funnier to stick in the blank. I show Melissa, and another person, Tanner, what I did. We all burst out laughing, and continued to do that with every single blank, only because it worked so well.
_____ Something that kids play with.
Hookers.
_____ Someone you can go see to help you deal with problems in your life
Hookers.
Everyone must’ve thought we were completely mad giggling like that all through class. Good thing we didn’t have to hand those sheets in... Afterwards, there was a discussion about feminine and masculine pronouns, and the French teacher drew those funny looking male and female signs up on the black board as part of her lesson. While we were working on yet another worksheet, a girl who sat near me, asked why the male sign was the male sign, and the female was the female one.
 “Well, I dunno for sure, but you know how the male sign has that thing sticking up? Maybe that’s why?” I answered.
Another girl, Sarah, who sat beside this girl looked at me and said, “Hey, yeah, that’s what I was thinking!”
The girl who asked the question however, did not get it. “What? I don’t understand...”
Everyone in the general vicinity who heard this just looked at her with a look of just, “What?” on their faces.
“How could you not get it?” I asked. “That thing on the male sign sticks up, just like...”
“Don’t tell her Josh! She’s too innocent.” Sarah jokingly interrupted me.
I laughed. “Alright, I won’t.”
“No, wait! Tell me, I still don’t get it!” the clueless girl pleaded.
We never told her.

                Last block of the day, physics. I mostly kept to myself in this here, since I didn’t know many people in this class. As I walked in I said “Hi” to the two guys I actually did know, Nicholas and Nathan. Of course, by virtue of being accepted late in that class, I got a spot nowhere near either of the two. I was way near the front next to a girl I didn’t know. Basically, all I knew was that her friend Kevin who sat behind her, had a bit of a crush on her. He made it too obvious in the way he talked to her, though lately he hadn’t been terribly happy around her. After working dully a bit, finishing all the work I had been given for the class in 15 minutes, Ashley, the girl I barely knew, said my name.
“Hey Josh, could you come help me with question seven?”
“Oh, sure, no problem,” I said.
After helping her with the question, I asked whether she needed anymore help. She looked briefly at the questions left in the workbook. She laughed a bit and said, “Probably all the rest of them.”
I laughed too. “Well, I’ll just move my desk over here then.”
So we worked on the problems and got them all finished with time to spare. So we sat, and talked and laughed a bit. We were getting along pretty good actually. After a while, of this, the teacher handed us back some partner projects we had done, though with me being the black sheep in the class, I had struck it out alone. When Ashley got her partner project back, she looked... not terribly thrilled about the mark. She handed it to her partner on it, Kevin, who sat behind her. He looked at it briefly and said, “Hey, I think we did alright on this.”
Ashley looked frustrated. “But we could’ve done so much better...” She turned to me. “What did you get Josh?”
“Uh... I kinda aced it.” I said, not quite succeeding in masking my pleasure.
“Haha, wow, really?” Ashley laughed as she asked. She was silent for a second. “You know, how would you like to be lab partners for the rest of the year?”
“Oh, sure, I’d love to.” I said as I laughed and smiled a little.
Later after class had ended, I was walking out of the room with Nicholas and Nathan.
“Wow, Josh, that was pretty sweet what you pulled back there,” Nathan said in amazement.
“What was?” I asked.
“You know, that thing you pulled with Ashley. You totally shut Kevin down.”
“Oh, that?”  I laughed. “I don’t think she likes me like that if that’s what you mean. Whatever’s happening to Kevin isn’t my fault.”
“What do you mean?” Nathan asked.
“Kevin’s hasn’t been putting moves on her for a bit now, haven’t you noticed?” Nicholas pointed out.
“Ashley just got a boyfriend recently.” I continued Nicholas’ point.
“How do you two know that?”
                “We saw her kissing him outside the room when she came in for class, before you got here,” I replied, smiling, and mildly amused.

The bus ride home was the same as the bus ride back, only with Christopher joining Anthony and I this time. While on the bus, Christopher poked that back of his sister, Lorraine’s, head.
                “Christopher!” Anthony exclaimed in false shock, “You perforated the back of her head!”
“What?” I asked. “That wasn’t a perforation! There’s no hole in the back of her head!”
Anthony reasoned, “But he tried to perforate it! Even though he may not have made it all the way through, he might’ve made a small divot or something. That counts as perforating her head!”
“Attempting to perforate is different than actually perforating! There’s no complete hole through her skull!” I defended.
Anthony shot back. “So what, you dig a hole in the ground, you can’t actually call it a hole since it doesn’t go all the way through the Earth’s crust?”
“Perforation is a complete hole all the way through something!”
Anthony sighed and looked sad. “Ugh, poor stupid Josh. Too stupid to realize the truth.”
I looked at Christopher. “I need a dictionary.”
“Why?” He asked.
“To prove to Anthony that the definition of perforate is to make a complete hole in something, and then so I can beat him to death with a large blunt object after.”
Christopher laughed and laughed listening to us bicker and threaten each other the rest of the ride home. Lorraine, listening to all of this, only sighed and probably wondered why she put up with all our antics.
We had just gotten off the bus, and Anthony and I were still arguing about it.
“Josh, you’re dumb, you smell like ham... And you’re dumb.”
“You’re just mad ‘cause I’m right.”
“How? You can’t prove it.”
“I’ll look it up tonight, and you’ll see.”
We just reached the point on our walk home where we parted ways. I looked at him and said, “Well, alright, I’ll see you tomorrow I guess.”
“Alright, see you tomorrow. Don’t get killed.”
I laughed. “Like that UPS  delivery guy whenever he shows up?”
Anthony laughed too. “Yeah, like that guy. I’ll get him whenever he shows up... with... sharp, pointy sticks.”
“Hahaha, alright, well see you!”
“See you.”
               

And we walked our separate ways, looking forward to tomorrow.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Who am I?

            The blue blurs were all muddled in front of me under the bright white light above them. I could hear a mumbling of words that sounded a bit like a bubbling brook and the back of my head felt like it was cracked open. I reached back with my right hand and gasped as I twitched a finger and felt lightning bolt of pain flicker through it. The blurs leapt forward and I gasped and pressed myself closer to the ground that I was laying on.
            “Don’t move!” One said.
            “Everything will be alright, we have a stretcher coming.” Another said.
            “Maranda, are you all right?” Someone asked me. I must be ‘Maranda’ then . . . Wait . . . Was I?
            I looked around at them, the person who named someone ‘Maranda’ was looking at me. No one else stepped forward. I didn’t recognize anyone, I didn’t remember my own name, and I didn’t know where I was. Looking down at my blue shirt that designated me as one of them, I realized I had that thing that people had when they didn’t remember who they were.
            “Shit,” I whispered. “Would I be the girl who cried wolf if I told you all I don’t know who you are, where I am, or who I am?”
            They all stared back at me, and the one who knew my name, the name I didn’t recognize, squinted at me with her coffee colored eyes like she was trying to decide if I was joking or not. Had I ever gotten knocked on the head before and forgotten who I was? Well, I was about to find out.
            “Fuck,” The girl who knew me sighed, “You lost your memory.” She flipped her chocolate hair over a shoulder and combed it with her fingers in frustration. “I’m gonna kick that guy’s ass!”
            “Woah, woah, woah!” A big and tall Hispanic dude grabbed her shoulders and held her back from the crowd of onlookers who had been gathered outside the building. Some grey shirted men were holding them back with some blue shirts and some police were on the scene as well. So many uniforms and different directives and orders were all outside keeping the ordinary person out. And one of those ordinary people was the reason I had lost my memory.
            “Well . . . This sucks. Can I have a smoke, or is it too soon for that,” I asked as I sat up, using my left hand as leverage.
            “This sucks? This sucks?” The girl whirled toward me, “That psycho would have killed you! And all because you told him he couldn’t come inside without a ticket and because he was too inebriated! Those are the rules and you didn’t have backup, or a radio, and this all ha- . . . Wait . . . Did you just ask for a cigarette?”
            “Yeah?” I didn’t think the request was strange, which she did, because I was in pain and wanted something to soothe me before the pain started to make me freak out. Sure, I didn’t know who I was, but I’m sure I liked the same things that I did before this all happened.

            “You don’t smoke,” She spoke slowly, like I was a child trying to understand how two plus two equaled four. Well, shit. Guess I am a different person after all. 

This Story Sucks

He walked into the department store with a gun tucked safely inside his jacket pocket. His breathing was erratic, sweat dotting his forehead. He walked from the front of the store to the back, his eyes frantically searching for associates hoping no one would notice his nervousness.
“Hello sir, are you finding everything okay?” A young girl asked. Her name tag read Isabelle. The man barely replied, shaking his head and saying he was fine. Isabelle furrowed her brow, obviously suspicious.  As she walks away to talk into her radio, she gets ready to notify security of the man’s suspicious behavior. But she doesn’t get the chance, because the man grabs his gun and points it at her back. When Isabelle feels the gun pointed to her back she gasps.
“Listen Girlie, you’re going to take me to your break room or you die!” The man whispers quickly in her ear. Isabelle does as she’s told, ignoring the voices over the radio that call her name.
                When they reach the break room Isabelle fumbles with the keycode. The man presses the gun deeper into her back and Isabelle can’t help but begin to cry. No one is in the break room when they enter and the man smiles, thinking he might actually get away with the crime he’s about to commit.
“Okay Girlie sit down!” The man yells, pointing the gun at her while she trips into a chair. “And be quiet, or I swear I’ll make sure these white walls get covered with your brains.” He says, the gun slightly shaking in his hand. Isabelle listens to the man, and quietly cries while she sits in the chair.
“Which button activates the overhead speakers?” The man asks her, pointing to the phone.
“its-it’s the third..the third one down.” Isabelle says, her voice quivering with fear.
“Attention shoppers, There is a bomb planted somewhere in this store and if I don’t get the money I want..we’ll all be blown to smithereens! So if the managers would like to deliver all the money they have..I would gladly appreciate it. Thank you!” The man hangs up the phone and waits for the storm of panic to begin. Isabelle’s radio goes wild with voices that frantically try to figure out what to do. Screams can be heard from outside the break room. The man begins to smile, loving every minute of the chaos.
                Suddenly Isabelle stands up making the man turn around. “What did I tell you girl?” The man yells. Isabelle’s body begins to convulse, changing in form. The man’s eyes go wide with fear. He tries shooting her, but to no avail. Isabelle is no longer who she once was, now standing before the man is a tall boy with Black hair and gold eyes. He wears a black suit with black boots and black gloves.
“Oh I think you picked the wrong person to threaten sir!” The boy says. His teeth are sharp like razors. The man screams, trying again to shoot and kill. The bullets merely absorb into the boy’s skin.
“You see, I don’t like it when threatened. This is my place of employment, a cover up if you will. And then you come in here and you threaten these people, you threaten me?  I don’t think so!”
The man tries to run out of the break room, but the door is won’t budge open. “Now I have to devour you. And you’re making me use my time powers, just another reason to kill you.” The boy says. The man regrets ever having walked into this department store.

Saturday, August 3, 2013

Challenge #37

Hello everyone!

So some news. First, I, Ink, now have a twitter! You can see what things I like and be updated when stories and challenges are posted, along with any other news related and not related to this blog!

Second, Feather and I are thinking of recording ourselves as we write for a challenge so that you guys can hear and see us at work. We will be vocal about what we are writing so you guys will know what goes on in our heads as we write. Yup, we will be talking to ourselves. So, if you have any questions you would like us to answer, just e-mail them or tweet them! Or, you can like our facebook page and leave us comments there!

Finally, the challenge for this week! This week, the challenge is to write a story that takes place where you work. This story does not have to be realistic and you can change the names of the people you work with. Also, if you do not have a job, the story can take place at school or where you spend most of your time. If you have more than one job, you can give us a story combining the locations, two stories, or whatever you like.

If you would like to submit something to us for Fan Friday, please do! Just e-mail it to us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

See you all on Wednesday!

Friday, August 2, 2013

Fan Friday!

Strawberry Shampoo

She told me she hated the smell of it. I didn’t mind it. I actually liked the smell. It meant I was near her. It was the smell of some sort of strawberry-scented shampoo she always used. She said the smell bothered her because it was too strong, too fake. Maybe like the way I thought I loved her? I remember lying next to her, running my hands through her fine, soft hair, the smell permeating the air, covering my hands, whilst I tried to convince myself I really loved her with all my might. Afterwards, the scent clung to my hands, just like I began to cling to her. I had always asked if she ever minded my hands running up and down her body, but I had never dared to ask if she wanted them too. I was too scared of her saying no. But like that strawberry scent that wafted through the air, it wasn’t long until any misconception of love that held us together faded. She said that I had been good to her, as good as any man can be. But she just didn’t love me anymore. She wasn’t sure if she had loved me like that at all. Bags packed, she left that night, for God knows where. I’d like to say I hunted up and down the streets howling with rage, looking for her, either to win her back, or to kill her, or both. But I didn’t. I knew she was right. She left without incident, and like the smell of her shampoo slowly diffusing through the air, any semblance of emotion I had left after that slowly drifted away. So now I just lie in bed, occasionally wondering if there is still some remnant of her signature scent still seeping from the sheets we once shared, or if perhaps just like the woman who bore it, the scent of strawberries has left my life too. Hopefully when you find my body, you’ll find this note too. And if anyone bothers to care, tell her that I did love her, but perhaps just not in the way I should have. Tell her that I wanted to love her as a friend at the end, just like I should have at the beginning.

 -Josh