join us
{it's free}
already a member?
SIGN IN
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.
JOIN US!
BK
He had taken to drinking a few bottles of Columbia Creek each day and reading Kierkegaard, only grunting responses. His inaction fueled her discovery. She was fearful of joining in his despondency, sitting here steeping in words and thoughts in low light.
(more)
LaupNhoj
His movements are that
of an old growth redwood
Indefinitely still
Silent pumping beneath the surface
Life coursing through veins as thick
as concrete (more)
mactheknife
Micky was a cat who had more personality than many people I knew. At night he would sit on the bed, waiting for me to drag myself, bleary-eyed, away from the computer. If I took longer than Micky thought I should, he would come into the room and sit(more)
yummycatt
his inaction is much louder than his words
his words are soft and quiet
gentle
almost
enough to lull you into the kind of calm
that accepts his inaction (more)
Lily
I have no experience with impulse or speed. I am slow: a condition rather than an action. A planner, I am in a perpetual state of preparedness that gets me ready to make the right decision long after things have already played out.
(more)
amantani309
I told him to yell at me. I told him I would like it a whole hell of a lot better if he would just get good and mad at me. I wanted him to throw some shit and cuss in my direction. Nothing. I tried to explain to(more)
KB
This is what we gained:

1. Four shillings (he smiled as he laid them out, although they are of no use to us).

2. The contract, inked in the blood of four of the township's finest men and three of our women.

3. Good families full(more)
literaryapothecary
The mild-mannered man was prone to inactivity, interrupted by brief bouts of drug-fueled mania during which he did things like wash his dishes, build things out of wood, and repair broken electronics. You can usually find him spread out on his deep couch, like one more big stain on(more)
vintagememoir
He set his goals aside
and left them for tomorrow,
promising himself that someday
he'd get around to it as the
cobwebs began to build and
the dust settle on empty shells (more)
mariaincorporated
I fell, once. One time, I was riding my bike down the hill and I was so happy I threw my hands in the air, laughing and smiling. Halfway to the bottom, my bike hit a rock, a can, a tree, I've never been sure, and flew into the(more)