Assignment Fictional Narrative Your short story should be 1–2 pages long. Before submitting your story, make sure you story has • An exposition, rising action, climax, and a resolution. • A setting, plot, and theme. • Imagery to create mood. • A narrator with a consistent point of view. • Dialogue to move the plot and show the characters’ ideas and feelings. • Consistent verb tense. • A variety of sentence structures—simple, compound, complex. • Correct capitalization, punctuation, and spelling.
Spencer clipped the gunmetal watch onto his right wrist, fitting it snuggly alongside the Armani bracelet a girl had given him as a present for his birthday a few months ago. He wore the bracelet because she still came to the club and it was a nice bracelet. Running a hand a long his jaw he felt the prickle of day old whiskers. Bright green eyes stared back at him from the glass; blonde hair was slicked back away from his face. New York girls loved the biker/business man look. He had to work
Shattered Once upon a time, there was a sorcerer who had a twelve year old son named Darcy. Darcy had a magical power to see all things happening in the world. The sorcerer, knowing of his power, trapped Darcy in a mirror so that he could never leave him, but by doing this Darcy's power was limited so that he could only see things when a mirror was near by. Hearing of the boy's power, the Evil Queen had the sorcerer killed and took the young magical child ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Vignette # 4 I was wrapped in my blanket like a Butterfly in its cocoon. As soon as I began to have conscious thought of my crush, dancing, and my dreams turning into a reality my eyes opened as if I was facing Bruce Lee himself. Then I jumped out of my bed if I was running with gazelles in sub Saharan Africa. I smoothly landed into a crouched position on the ground I got straight into my dance battle stance with a stare determined like Eminem. I knew today would be a good day with the sun
Him bending to pick his clothes from the floor always made me raise my head from the pillow. Him leaving was his best side. He liked to see the back of me as well. It was a relief. But to say it out loud would not be good. So we pretended it was all happy sunshine everyday. “You going to the store already?” “Uh huh.” Jesus, he couldn't even bother answering me properly and here I was making an effort. I rolled my back to him and drew the cover over my head. “Have a good day.” “Uh huh.” Closing
“Um, who’s this?” I asked, even though it wouldn’t take a genius to say who was on the other line. “Harry.” “And how exactly did you get my number?” I inquired and I could hear the smile that was growing on his face. “I get things, Gray. It is what I do.” God, it’s like I can also see him shrugging. Get what things? Phone numbers, or girls? I glared at myself, at my subconscious. “How do you get things, Styles?” I glanced up at the door, knowing my father was probably going to emerge any second
The guy behind the piano sang Sinatra songs and flirted with sophisticated women in sparkling dresses that flocked around him. Discrete waiters moved among the tables serving drinks to smartly dressed men that smoked cigarettes stored in shiny cigarette cases. A perfect playground for classy people and she was way out of her league. It seemed like a good idea to broaden her horizon when she followed the whim to go there, but she didn’t feel as certain any more. Most of the men were too old, the rest
Mark and I didn't know what to think. To be honest Constantine sounded great. He didn't look crazy or like he was hiding something. I tried my best not to look back into the shop while Mark went into the grocery store across the street. I was waiting outside the car, pretending to text on my phone. Just then Constantine comes out with a bag and comes up to me. "Hey Emy, sorry to bother but I know how much your grandmother likes meat, so here." He gives me a bag of some meat, it looked really good
She stopped. The flat gold carpet tipped at a forty-five degree angle, then swirled away when she reached for it. The end table swooped and crashed a sharp edge into her arm. Then the floor lunged in and slammed against her side but not before her outstretched arms cleared the table of pill bottles, candles and lotions. The black lamp tipped, embroidered shade popping off and she felt the fall vibrate the walls as she lay there breathing. A lazy film of powder rose from where the light bulb used
Alex: My alarm went off at 5 like it did every morning. After a quick jog around the loop of the neighborhood and a lightning-quick shower, I sat down to coffee and the newspaper in the kitchen at 5:50. Neither Ben nor Morgan was up yet, so it was generally quiet. Morgan was home from college on fall break, and Ben was still a junior in high school. I found out the hard way that Ben wasn’t a morning person, and he hadn’t been one since kindergarten. It was a bear to get him out of bed, and I had