join us
{it's free}
already a member?
home recent triggers submit trigger news  
Four times a day,
we help you
get the words out.
Write in any genre in
300 words or less.
Hit publish.
Read. Be Read.
Write. Now.
There is something barbaric in the way his speech cuts me. There is something wild and frenzied in that throaty call, the taste of a man calling out into the blackness. All I hear is my hormones pounding and my lips pursing out into the cosmos.  
nature in all ways
is barbaric excepting
man's fatal culture
I feel something barbaric in the wide, sweeping gestures of putting those thick black lines on paper. India ink penetrates the pulp, the paper puckering in protest. A clean white surface now marred with angry lines of black- one after another, after another.
It was barbaric. But they were all doing it.
It filled us with fear but we were afraid of quitting.
We were just children but we wanted to grow up
We were convinced it was the cool thing to do
We never though more cause it was what w(more)