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.
To Feliciano, Ludwig is the cello.  Dependable.  Strong.  Steady.  Always holding back his true potential, keeping to the background though a powerful presence resonates deep within, able to support the whole of an orchestra with his own strength, lending power to the voices of the v(more)
The sun dimmed. Everything was being covered by a sepia orange, as I buried my feet into the white sand. I'm so far away from the life I used to love, the life I would've died for. Things have its way of changing like that, I guess. I still(more)
A lone cello played on in the background as the party screeched to a halt. One man in brown trousers had called the black betrousered man's wife a strumpet.

Fisticuffs ensued amongst gasps and cries of disbelief. No one continued to dance or talk, but the cellist playe(more)
They listen to the radio in the mornings.
It's always been a tradition for them, even when the radios were larger (and in the night, they would secretly find the BBC and reassure themselves that the war would end) they would turn it on in the mornings and squabble(more)
Alice was struck first by the music that was playing as she entered the restaurant. It was a simple, classically played guitar, acoustic by its tone. It sounded live, but she couldn't see the player anywhere.

It was a small place, family owned, but it had a ver(more)
She walked slowly through the aisles of the store, sliding her hand against all the linens. Each fabric coaxed her skin into bliss. She closed her eyes.
In music, pianissimo means "very soft". The space just above where sound doesn't exist.  Sometimes she felt that's what her life was.(more)
He plays soft piano, pianissimo, because more noise than that hurts his sensitive and sore ears. Alexander closes his eyes and lets his fingers drift over the ivory, pluckin notes and chords out of thin air and pressing them under his fingerprints.
it shapes in your hands.

touch it.
mould it.
press your hand into the clay (more)
Soft music has its place, for sure. The dentist's office, the elevator, the airport lounge, your parents' car. But its place is not Friday afternoon in your apartment. No matter how worn out you are from the week's work, your commute, your constant, unending fights with your significant other(more)
He hums a familiar melody,
hums with peace and hope.

You are dumbfounded,
trying to remember
what song this was. (more)
He could feel the wind dance around his head like wisps trying to lead him forward. It reminded him of music, quiet music, soft music. The kind that one might sway their head to while enjoying a mug of tea. So he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply(more)
For all intents are purposes Dan's room was quiet. But not to Dan. He calmly sat down into his rocking chair and allowed it to make it's customary creaking noise. As it did he let out a sigh of relieve not too dissimilar to those made after a long(more)
As if a hypnotic trance had been placed on him, he subconsciously began to sway with the music. From side to side, ever so gently, his body moved with the sound of the smooth jazz. A mug of green tea was cupped in his hands, swishing around just softly(more)
Alone in purest dark
uplifting sounds.
soft tones perforate me,
a snake slithers.

Seeping wounds cannot heal (more)
the impact, as one, couldn't even really be considered as that.
the touch of palm to palm is more of an electric impulse than anything else, a soft barely there sound of two hands meeting and fingers interlocking like they're meant to as soft music continues playing in th(more)