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Hi, I'm new here, and seeing as everyone writes stories and stuff on these forums, I thought I'd share this with you. Let me know what you think, it's the first proper thing I've ever written. I couldn't think of a good thing to write about, so I just started writing about the first thing that came into my head, which may explain why it's so boring.
Please be honest and let me know what you think.
Please be honest and let me know what you think.
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Mr Snuggly wrote:
> Hey, I wrote this! First thing I ever wrote properly.
I knew it sucked, but I couldn't quite place how |o/ This is you stealing our precious GADs, no?
> Hey, I wrote this! First thing I ever wrote properly.
I knew it sucked, but I couldn't quite place how |o/ This is you stealing our precious GADs, no?
Hey, I wrote this! First thing I ever wrote properly.
Geat stuff. You write very well.
Look forward to reading more of your work.
p.s. Would it be fair to say you've been here before? With a different user name?
Just seems very familir.
I ain't going to judge you on it.
Look forward to reading more of your work.
p.s. Would it be fair to say you've been here before? With a different user name?
Just seems very familir.
I ain't going to judge you on it.
Cyclone wrote:
> 'The Anthology of Life'
> ;-)
Heh, very good. Or maybe "Depressed Stories: And The Odd Happy One Too"
Anyway, I agree with Grix, I enjoyed reading that. Just shows how much being a JAT/Newbie matters.
> 'The Anthology of Life'
> ;-)
Heh, very good. Or maybe "Depressed Stories: And The Odd Happy One Too"
Anyway, I agree with Grix, I enjoyed reading that. Just shows how much being a JAT/Newbie matters.
'The Anthology of Life'
;-)
;-)
Good stuff.
We really should bundle a load of these stories together and make a book out of them.
We really should bundle a load of these stories together and make a book out of them.
kloony wrote:
"Wow, thanks! That means a lot coming from you!"
Why? Do I know you? :0D And hell, I just have my opinions, they're as good as anyone elses, as far as I'm concerned.
"I'm a bit nervous because I think my writing style sucks, I just write it all in one go, then go back over it and chop and change bits around. Not really how a professional goes about it."
Who says what's professional though? It's what suits you best... your style is your own, people that all follow the same pattern, the same techniques, they're all just carbon copies of eachother. I think it's fantastic that you have your own style, keep with it, because it works well, at least here, anyway. :0)
"There's more to the story as well, I may post it in the future."
Cool.
"Wow, thanks! That means a lot coming from you!"
Why? Do I know you? :0D And hell, I just have my opinions, they're as good as anyone elses, as far as I'm concerned.
"I'm a bit nervous because I think my writing style sucks, I just write it all in one go, then go back over it and chop and change bits around. Not really how a professional goes about it."
Who says what's professional though? It's what suits you best... your style is your own, people that all follow the same pattern, the same techniques, they're all just carbon copies of eachother. I think it's fantastic that you have your own style, keep with it, because it works well, at least here, anyway. :0)
"There's more to the story as well, I may post it in the future."
Cool.
Wow, thanks! That means a lot coming from you! I'm a bit nervous because I think my writing style sucks, I just write it all in one go, then go back over it and chop and change bits around. Not really how a professional goes about it.
There's more to the story as well, I may post it in the future.
There's more to the story as well, I may post it in the future.
Enjoyed that a lot. :0D
Fantastic, really good. Rob's relationship with his wife doesn't seem that romantic at all... :0D
If you write more stuff, or whatever, post it, I'd love to read it.
Fantastic, really good. Rob's relationship with his wife doesn't seem that romantic at all... :0D
If you write more stuff, or whatever, post it, I'd love to read it.
Rob stepped out of the car, slammed the door shut behind him and surveyed the house in front of him. This was his new house. It looked pretty huge, but maybe that was because he’d never owned something quite so big before. Walking up the garden path, he was satisfied with the ‘crunch’ of the gravel under his feet, and even took a step back to hear it again. He wanted to sample every visual delight, every aural pleasure of this place while it was still fresh and new to him, before it just where he lived. Turning to see his wife staring at him, Rob beckoned her over to the front door, and both with one hand on the key, they turned it, unlocked the door, and entered.
“I would have carried you over the threshold, but… y’know,” chuckled Rob, as he checked out the lobby. The carpet was a rich ruby colour, and was bouncier than he was used too. Careful to not let his wife see him, Rob jumped slightly to feel the floor under him, and even let out a little smile, before catching himself in the mirror, and realising this was his house, his fricking house, he adopted a sterner look. “Everything looks good so far,” he said loudly, half to his wife and half to himself. Rob peeked his head around the corner for a quick check of the kitchen, before sauntering into the living room. Ho-ly Christ. It was absolutely enormous, way beyond Rob’s expectations. The walls were painted a dark red colour, and a subtle floral pattern was repeated along the back wall, a detail Rob’s wife took vocal delight in.
Racing up the stairs, Rob entered the bedroom (“Nice and roomy”), the spare room (“They left a rug”) and the bathroom. Aqua blue, it was the bathroom he had always wanted. The bath was blue, the mats were blue, the tiles were blue – it was blue alright. Checking the bog for any alien substances, Rob flushed the chain with a hearty pull and pursed his lips as he witnessed the power of the toilet’s cistern – Jesus, that water was flying. Surprised by the industrial-strength flush of his new best friend, Rob decided to test out the other bathroom amenities, turning on and off the taps in the sink, and sitting in the bath. “You don’t waste any time,” said the wife, walking up the stairs and into the bedroom. A yelp of delight eminated from the room, causing Rob’s head to jerk backwards onto the cold china of the bathtub, but when his wife stood in the bathroom doorway, smile spread across her face and arms on her head, he forgot about the pain. Rob’s wife jumped in the bath with him, and they enjoyed a homely cuddle.
Downstairs again, and overwhelmed by the room, the house, by it all, Rob sat on the leather chair, let out a relieved sigh and closed his eyes. This was going to be great.
Unpacking, however, was not so great. In fact, it was horrific. The dingy grey removal van was parked over the road, and when the overweight driver opened the back (showing his crack in the process), Rob was taken aback at the sheer amount of boxes they actually had. Did they actually have this much stuff? Looking at the handwriting on most of the boxes, Rob deduced that approximately 60% of the boxes didn’t belong to him, and half of those weren’t labelled correctly. Bet I end up doing all this, Rob thought to himself, throwing a semi-worried glance at his wife, who had already engaged in conversation with a female neighbour. With the help of the driver, Rob unloaded some of the boxes onto the pavement, and carried them across the road, taking a quick look at his neighbour’s houses and the adjacent houses. Rob was confident his house was the best, and decided he liked the neighbourhood. Nice greenery, not too much traffic and a pub on the corner, a point Rob had kept quiet upon noticing in the drive to the house.
With all the boxes removed from the van and laying despondent on the living room floor, Rob stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. It felt good to be in a position to legitimately put his hands on his hips, and work out what to do next. “Just as well the room’s as big as it is,” he yelled into the kitchen, in which his wife had unpacked the kettle and cups, and was making a swift brew. A muffled response returned, so Rob kneeled down next to the first box and read the label.
MY STUFF
Wasn’t his stuff, must have been hers. Opening the box, Rob winced as he saw pointless trinkets and old bits of junk he recognised from his previous abode. Some of it broken, some of it depressingly intact, it was garbage, plain and simple. Wondering just how many of the dozen or so boxes contained similar surprises, Rob stood up and wandered into the kitchen, to help with the tea, or hopefully, enter just as it was made. The kitchen was just what Rob had imagined – black and white chequered floor, wooden cabinets, lackered mug tree – it was like something straight out of an Ikea catalogue, only it belonged to him. The windows drew his eyes out towards the garden, of which he assured himself he’d look at later, but didn’t really care about. Grass, flowers, soil – girls stuff, it wasn’t for him. “Cuppa, babe?”
Gratefully taking the steaming mug from his faithful wife’s dusty hand, Rob ignored the fact there was no sugar and not enough milk in the cup and smiled warmly at his missus. She smiled back, and sipped from her special chipped blue mug. There was a good chance he’d have sex tonight.
It doesn’t matter if you live in the nicest house in the world, the first night’s sleep in a bed alien to you is not always the most pleasant experience. All Rob could see out of the large bedroom window from his bed was his neighbour’s overgrown tree, obscuring his view. This was something he’d have to speak to his neighbour about when he’d worked up enough of a repore with him, but after a while so he didn’t look like an arrogant idiot confronting him about it. A few weeks should do it, he told himself. Rob’s wife was curled up beside him, arm sprawled across his chest and face practically eating the pillow. Strangely, she was always like this after sex, and Rob was always left awake, sometimes picturing what he had just done in his head, other times having a crafty go on the PlayStation.
Rob looked down at his wife’s satisfied face, looked around the spacious bedroom and looked up at the ceiling. After about three minutes of convincing himself he saw faces in the artexed finish, Rob decided sleep wasn’t for him just now. B******-naked, he walked gingerly down the stairs, careful not to catch his feet on the small protruding nails on the steps, and sat on the freezing cold leather chair in the living room, which frightened him at first, but he soon relaxed. Rob sat thinking for what seemed like hours, but was actually about 15 minutes. After he had decided, and then un-decided to try and unpack more of his wife’s boxes, Rob decided that the leather chair was now too comfortable to try and get out of, and glancing at the digital clock he had unpacked earlier, decided that he’d fall asleep where he sat. A smile beamed across his face. He was happy.
“I would have carried you over the threshold, but… y’know,” chuckled Rob, as he checked out the lobby. The carpet was a rich ruby colour, and was bouncier than he was used too. Careful to not let his wife see him, Rob jumped slightly to feel the floor under him, and even let out a little smile, before catching himself in the mirror, and realising this was his house, his fricking house, he adopted a sterner look. “Everything looks good so far,” he said loudly, half to his wife and half to himself. Rob peeked his head around the corner for a quick check of the kitchen, before sauntering into the living room. Ho-ly Christ. It was absolutely enormous, way beyond Rob’s expectations. The walls were painted a dark red colour, and a subtle floral pattern was repeated along the back wall, a detail Rob’s wife took vocal delight in.
Racing up the stairs, Rob entered the bedroom (“Nice and roomy”), the spare room (“They left a rug”) and the bathroom. Aqua blue, it was the bathroom he had always wanted. The bath was blue, the mats were blue, the tiles were blue – it was blue alright. Checking the bog for any alien substances, Rob flushed the chain with a hearty pull and pursed his lips as he witnessed the power of the toilet’s cistern – Jesus, that water was flying. Surprised by the industrial-strength flush of his new best friend, Rob decided to test out the other bathroom amenities, turning on and off the taps in the sink, and sitting in the bath. “You don’t waste any time,” said the wife, walking up the stairs and into the bedroom. A yelp of delight eminated from the room, causing Rob’s head to jerk backwards onto the cold china of the bathtub, but when his wife stood in the bathroom doorway, smile spread across her face and arms on her head, he forgot about the pain. Rob’s wife jumped in the bath with him, and they enjoyed a homely cuddle.
Downstairs again, and overwhelmed by the room, the house, by it all, Rob sat on the leather chair, let out a relieved sigh and closed his eyes. This was going to be great.
Unpacking, however, was not so great. In fact, it was horrific. The dingy grey removal van was parked over the road, and when the overweight driver opened the back (showing his crack in the process), Rob was taken aback at the sheer amount of boxes they actually had. Did they actually have this much stuff? Looking at the handwriting on most of the boxes, Rob deduced that approximately 60% of the boxes didn’t belong to him, and half of those weren’t labelled correctly. Bet I end up doing all this, Rob thought to himself, throwing a semi-worried glance at his wife, who had already engaged in conversation with a female neighbour. With the help of the driver, Rob unloaded some of the boxes onto the pavement, and carried them across the road, taking a quick look at his neighbour’s houses and the adjacent houses. Rob was confident his house was the best, and decided he liked the neighbourhood. Nice greenery, not too much traffic and a pub on the corner, a point Rob had kept quiet upon noticing in the drive to the house.
With all the boxes removed from the van and laying despondent on the living room floor, Rob stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. It felt good to be in a position to legitimately put his hands on his hips, and work out what to do next. “Just as well the room’s as big as it is,” he yelled into the kitchen, in which his wife had unpacked the kettle and cups, and was making a swift brew. A muffled response returned, so Rob kneeled down next to the first box and read the label.
MY STUFF
Wasn’t his stuff, must have been hers. Opening the box, Rob winced as he saw pointless trinkets and old bits of junk he recognised from his previous abode. Some of it broken, some of it depressingly intact, it was garbage, plain and simple. Wondering just how many of the dozen or so boxes contained similar surprises, Rob stood up and wandered into the kitchen, to help with the tea, or hopefully, enter just as it was made. The kitchen was just what Rob had imagined – black and white chequered floor, wooden cabinets, lackered mug tree – it was like something straight out of an Ikea catalogue, only it belonged to him. The windows drew his eyes out towards the garden, of which he assured himself he’d look at later, but didn’t really care about. Grass, flowers, soil – girls stuff, it wasn’t for him. “Cuppa, babe?”
Gratefully taking the steaming mug from his faithful wife’s dusty hand, Rob ignored the fact there was no sugar and not enough milk in the cup and smiled warmly at his missus. She smiled back, and sipped from her special chipped blue mug. There was a good chance he’d have sex tonight.
It doesn’t matter if you live in the nicest house in the world, the first night’s sleep in a bed alien to you is not always the most pleasant experience. All Rob could see out of the large bedroom window from his bed was his neighbour’s overgrown tree, obscuring his view. This was something he’d have to speak to his neighbour about when he’d worked up enough of a repore with him, but after a while so he didn’t look like an arrogant idiot confronting him about it. A few weeks should do it, he told himself. Rob’s wife was curled up beside him, arm sprawled across his chest and face practically eating the pillow. Strangely, she was always like this after sex, and Rob was always left awake, sometimes picturing what he had just done in his head, other times having a crafty go on the PlayStation.
Rob looked down at his wife’s satisfied face, looked around the spacious bedroom and looked up at the ceiling. After about three minutes of convincing himself he saw faces in the artexed finish, Rob decided sleep wasn’t for him just now. B******-naked, he walked gingerly down the stairs, careful not to catch his feet on the small protruding nails on the steps, and sat on the freezing cold leather chair in the living room, which frightened him at first, but he soon relaxed. Rob sat thinking for what seemed like hours, but was actually about 15 minutes. After he had decided, and then un-decided to try and unpack more of his wife’s boxes, Rob decided that the leather chair was now too comfortable to try and get out of, and glancing at the digital clock he had unpacked earlier, decided that he’d fall asleep where he sat. A smile beamed across his face. He was happy.
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