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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.
mouths made of stitches
they sit and they watch
eyes made of buttons
and hearts made of fluff

bones made of sawdust (more)
I'd like that unnoticeable coat, please.

I heard it's 50% off - could you check the price?
- and an extra 25% off
on sale since it's almost spring
probably was on sale forever though (more)
The three of us are the only ones that wear long sleeves during the third week of May.
When we walk into our classes there are sheens of sweat on our foreheads; each teacher quirks an eyebrow, gives us a questioning glance, seems otherwise concerned. Our classmates are beyond(more)
she's wearing a pristine white dress shirt with inauspicious, plastic buttons. her slacks are black and free of lint, stark darkness against the bleached brightness of her shirt.

there are, however, no shoes on her feet and the man at the counter of the gas station is frowning(more)
Your son calls out to you as he gets ready for school.
Mom, he says, Can I wear my blue shirt today?
You smile and help him slip it over his small head, his soft hair reappearing, tousled. His arms stretch through the sleeves, like snakes, burrowing into(more)
I know you're supposed to love who you are, but she never did. She never thought she was pretty. Not that many people are actually that beautiful. There's gorgeous, and then passable. The rest is what your demeanor makes you into.
She hid behind a mask; all of us(more)
He steps on to the train platform in dark jeans and a double-breasted pea coat, buttoned all the way up to his neck. He carries his umbrella under his left arm and holds a cup of black coffee in the same hand.

At the same time, she gets(more)
The white cotton dress hung around her figure, shapeless.

“Can you do my buttons?” Anna called over her shoulder. She was standing in front of the mirror in their bedroom, fretting with the lines of her dress, smoothing folds and tugging at edges. Her auburn hair fell aroun(more)
The flats. The dress pants. The white button up, all the way to the collar. The blue tie from dad's closet, half-windsor style.
Flipping around the feminine dress paradigm, that's right. Bam. Somebody's ready for a concert. Looking classy and refined, only as a percussionist can. Ready to roc(more)

"What's up?"

"It's this shirt! Why do fancy shirts have to have, like, ten million buttons? Seriously!"

"You're honestly having problems... with getting dressed. Do you need me to spoon-feed you some applesauce?"

"Okay look, it's just these-"

"Maybe I should bring out(more)
Funny how often we have it backwards.
We mistake desperation for lust, fucking for love.
Funny how even after all the incredible sex we had, tearing off clothes to reveal raw skin, nothing was as sexy, as thrilling or as intimate as when she buttoned me up for work.
That morning looked exactly the same as all of the others. The light coming in from the window was pale and soft as it gently kissed the room good morning. There was a haze in her brain that was only to be alleviated by the first cup of tea,(more)
Nasty. But them's the breaks. I decided to brazen it out, button myself up and put a brave face on it. Hardly anyone knew, and those who did were so implicated in things themselves that they weren't going to spill. You could call me cold, callous and downright nasty(more)
Her new coat was lined with a thick woolen interior. Outside it was suede, with leather detailing. Very long, very fashionable, very expensive, but so comfortable, so cuddly, so nice. And, most importantly, hers just in time for the start of the cold season. For the first month or(more)
i told
& now the guilt ensues
but i--your victim--
was the used
so why consumed
with blaming-fault (more)