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get the words out.
Write in any genre in
300 words or less.
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I open the book.  It makes a cracking sound as the cover is forced into an new position for the first time.  

I once read instructions on how to properly open a book to protected it for future generations.  It was overly complicated and would only spoil this moment. (more)
I always thought that it was the words that mattered.  A book was a good enough place to hide and a hard back was just a stronger wall built around your hiding place.  How little we know.  
You sent me this book, the book that broke down the wall of my(more)
       With the scents of blood, musk, and confidence distracting my attention from the impeding impact of his incoming fist; I was unable to brace for impact.  The sound of my teeth thumping against the cold concrete of the basement combined with the possible fracture of my chiseled(more)
He died with a hard back and a soft belly, wanting a bit more out of life. A solid few remembered the way he once was, but for most he lived his life like a shooting star too far away to be seen.

Two women had loved him(more)
Each day opens like
a new book with a hard back
Soon a broken spine
I was sweating through my shirt after the much needed solitary bike ride on my favorite trail.  I had powered through the rough patches of roots and rocks and cruised with the light breeze on the straightaways.  I stopped once at my turning back point to lay in the slow flowing(more)
Books were his refuge. His sanctuary. His safe place. His home. You would never see him without one, an it was a different one each time. He read all kinds of different genres--realistic fiction, fantasy, sci-fi, historical, romance. It didn't matter to him, so long as it helped him(more)
"I knew it."

The ghost in front of her was not a ghost at all; it was a man, tall with broad shoulders and dusty red hair. His skin was pink and very stubbornly opaque. She had expected translucent. Hoped for it.

He smiled.

"If you(more)
He was born with a strong, hard back and walked with purpose because of it; forward, tall, fast. Sure footed and precise he never touched shoulders with a fellow pedestrian.

Why should he? (more)
I went soft. For her, I went soft.
I used to be able to take care of business. Used to be able to make the hard choices. The choices no one else could make. I could take out the garbage in this town and go home to a tal(more)
She's been traveling for far too long. Wandering, wondering. The air is thick, the wind bitter. She stops abruptly, pulls a cigarette from her back pocket and smokes.
Inhale. Exhale.
Two roads split off from here exaggerating the barrier between who she is and who she wants to b(more)
Shelving the books was easy enough.  It was monotonous work that allowed me to delve inside my brain long enough to alleviate the constant chirping of christmas carols over the loud speakers.  Atwood. A. AT. ATW. ATWO- there.  Allen. A. AL. ALLE- there.  and so forth until I'd done t(more)
The rain slid around him, wouldn't touch him, and he forgot what wet felt like. The hungry cold of soggy socks was gone; he was instead the aimless voyeur, walking along while folks rushed around him under umbrellas and disintegrating newspaper. It was he and they, now: he saw(more)
Red grasped at the rock face and tried to keep his footing in pouring rain. Sheets of ice cold winter rain ran down the cliff, numbing his hands where is flowed around the edge of his gloves. He shifted the weight of his pack and tried again to reach(more)
I am one of those quirky OCD folks that HAS to keep his books in perfect condition! One time, on a trip from Seattle to Portland with my family scrunched in our Subaru, I remember carrying a copy of Melville's Moby Dick in paper back, well my sister had(more)