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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.
Dear Mrs. Valentine,

I am loath to mention that you have somehow forgotten me. My humble abode, once so cozy and warm, has acquired a draft, and I dare say the dust has settled quite thickly upon your ribs. You would be ashamed to see it! My beatings(more)
my regrets gathered
dust in the back of my head
then it was too late
Here is a little reminder just to say
That you are more than your corporeal self
You are made of stardust and oceans and lightning
One day your bones and flesh will be nothing but
Grass and trees and flowers
And when this world is gone you will onc(more)
The dust falls on the road, tiny motes that cling to everything and unite as a messy, irritating whole. It refuses to leave, refuses to budge, digs itself deep into every fold of clothing and skin, coats your mouth, your lips, your eyelids.
The dust swirls in the wind(more)
you put down the brush and the palette
when mother said 'starving artist' was not a title any daughter of hers would hold
and so you spent more time doodling on legal briefs than writing dissertations
smudging your way through law school the way you used to do o(more)
He kept the phone.

Masayoshi had been looking for - well, he'd forgotten now, he wasn't SNOOPING (heroes didn't snoop!), but he had opened one of the drawers in the closet and it was just sitting there, slid halfway down a pair of sneakers. It wasn't really hidden(more)