all_unwritten: Prompt 244

lady_aduial (

lady_aduial) wrote in

all_unwritten,
@ 2008-05-04 12:01:00

Prompt 244

From illegalart.org

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shaynnaloves
2008-05-04 06:12 pm UTC (link)

Jolie and her husband were having trouble. They wanted another baby after Adam was born, but had trouble. Because of the stress, they began fighting and just didn't get along well.

"Honey, let me take Adam for the night. You two go out and spend some time together- just the two of you," I suggested.

She thought about it and finally agreed, going home to get Adam's things. I signed to Brecken, who was watching Honor and Adam play in the yard, "Adam sleep here tonight. Watch them, please."

I went inside to my bedroom. Jolie loved this green shirt I had, so I thought I would lend it to her. I really liked both of them, and I hoped things would work out. When she came back with Adam's things and to say goodbye, I gave her a bag. "I thought you could borrow my shirt. Also, there's the book you wanted to borrow."

As I played with the kids after she left, I couldn't help but wonder if she'd seen my note. Written on a post-it, inside the cover of the book, was a simple message to her, to remind her what was important. I wrote, "Tell him that you love him."

(Reply to this)(Thread)

	ninth_lady 2008-05-05 03:03 pm UTC (link)
	That's beautiful. =) (Reply to this)(Parent)

	kiri_ka 2008-05-04 06:13 pm UTC (link)
	"Tell them both to shut up because I really don't care," drawled the bitter girl as she passed the two notes. (Reply to this)(Thread)

	that_evening 2008-05-04 07:48 pm UTC (link)
	Awesome. I just had to say that. (Reply to this)(Parent)(Thread)

	kiri_ka 2008-05-04 07:58 pm UTC (link)
	Thanks~ (Reply to this)(Parent)

	claytonsgrrl 2008-05-05 04:51 pm UTC (link)
	I love the angst. (Reply to this)(Parent)(Thread)

	kiri_ka 2008-05-05 05:25 pm UTC (link)
	:D I was in that kind of mood, thanks! (Reply to this)(Parent)

lara_everlong
2008-05-04 06:25 pm UTC (link)

She walked through the little gallery every morning, checking that everything was still as she had left it the night before. The current artist was one of those just-out-of-art-school types who strained to defy traditional materials, thus there was an entire wall of the gallery covered in goldenrod post-it notes. Perhaps it was supposed to be the toilet seat of the new millenium?

But what did she know? She only worked there.

She threw her keys down behind the reception desk, flipped the lights on and took her obligatory stroll, seeing for once that none of the post-its had fluttered to the linoleum floor over night.

But there appeared to be a bigger problem.

(Reply to this)(Thread)

	banyangirl1832 2008-05-04 06:29 pm UTC (link)
	Oh, this is good! I like it a lot. (Reply to this)(Parent)

	shima_sama 2008-05-04 07:19 pm UTC (link)
	Oh, this was fantastic! I LOVE IT! (Reply to this)(Parent)

banyangirl1832
2008-05-04 06:29 pm UTC (link)

The only thing worse than that small knowing ball in the pit of your stomach is knowing that you have no control over the reason it's there. Its awful. And as the lovely young girl took her place in the center of the hall, she felt the ball bounce around a few times with the look of her exhausted, frustrated teacher. "Tell him you love him through your song," she mouthed to her. "If you're going to be distracted by a boy, at least use the distraction for something good." Mrs. Tulane had no patience for her students falling in love. The sense of impending doom was upon Coir as she opened her mouth to begin the aria, and the audience tightened like a bowstring, waiting. Waiting. On edge.

Somewhere in the bathroom, the object of her affection took a sticky note from his suit pocket and stamped it down by her own lonely note, not lonely anymore. He didn't know her handwriting but that made no difference. He heard her love echoing off the walls like a watery apocalypse and felt the ball explode in his chest. Oh god, could she sing!

(Reply to this)(Thread)

	shima_sama 2008-05-04 07:20 pm UTC (link)
	^^ I like this. Well done! (Reply to this)(Parent)

shima_sama
2008-05-04 07:25 pm UTC (link)

The stupid art gallery in their school's library was covered in perverted suggestions and nasty critique. It was their teacher's bullshit idea to let the students put messages up next to each piece of artwork, giving their comments and suggestions. As high schools are prone to do, they had run amock over photos, paintings and drawings alike.

And Kasey, because she stayed after in the library to tutor some of the ESL students, got the unfortunate job of cleaning them up. She plucked note after disgusting note down from the gallery, replacing them with fresh post-its waiting for helpful responses that would never come.

Below one of her favorite photos, the unfocused capture of a tan shoulder below a star-filled sky, were two notes. Kasey read through them once, twice. She raised her hand to pull them down, then set her palm against her side. "Well, damn." She cursed under her breath, before stepping away from the gallery. Fewer than five post-it notes with messages remained.

She uncapped a Sharpie and leaned forward, scrawling in her big, loopy handwriting under both notes: "TELL THEM YOURSELF."

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	lady_lameo 2008-05-05 03:29 am UTC (link)
	Haha, I loved this. Liked the take on the prompt and the description of the lovely aspects of high school students and their lewd and stupid sense of humor, haha. Loved the character too, and not just because I happen to have the same name as her...although that does add to my personal enjoyment :) Wonderful. (Reply to this)(Parent)(Thread)

	shima_sama 2008-05-05 11:42 am UTC (link)
	Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it! ^^ (Reply to this)(Parent)

	tracys_dream 2008-05-04 07:36 pm UTC (link)
	Maybe if we talk to each other instead of talking behind each others backs, things would work out a lot better. (Reply to this)(Thread)

	ninth_lady 2008-05-05 02:59 pm UTC (link)
	That is so true! (Reply to this)(Parent)(Thread)

	tracys_dream 2008-05-05 04:03 pm UTC (link)
	Thanks. (Reply to this)(Parent)

slash_iirima
2008-05-04 07:42 pm UTC (link)

"I love you" Ben whispered quietly, and he knew that Tony could see his lips form the words, even if they didn't carry over the thudding music of the club.

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, though he was still grinning the same grin he had been flashing at the girl behind the bar. He mouthed 'what?' at him and shook his head.

Ben swallowed and said it again, forcing himself not to look away from Tony's intense gaze.

Tony renewed his grin then, laughing. He swung an arm around Ben's shoulders and tugged him closer, so Ben could feel Tony's laughter reverberate in his chest.

"You're such a lightweight!" He laughed, and pressed his chin to Ben's temple.

Ben looked down at his shoes and blinked several times in quick succession, didn't tell Tony he was on the same beer he bought when they first entered the club, then forced a smile "Yeah..." he drawled.

Maybe next time he should write him a note.

(Reply to this)

fictionlives
2008-05-04 07:49 pm UTC (link)

Ian saw Ollie cross the street and make her way over to the shop; he slipped Sean a post-it note with an imploring look and promptly ducked into the back room. Sean glanced at what his friend had written and cursed under his breath, "Fucking idiot."
Ollie stepped through the shop door and walked over to Sean's station, blushing under the accusatory glares and faint calls of 'bitch' from around the tattoo parlor.
"Hey, Sean." She called quietly. He pretended to busy wiping down the chair no one had used that day. "Have- have you seen Ian today?"
"He's working, not everyone can fuck their way to the top."
The young woman's eyes flared and she bit her lip to keep from cursing Sean out. She took a shaky breath and pulled a post-it note out of her bag. "When you see him, could you do something for me?"
"No, I really don't think that-"
Ollie just slipped the note into his hand before she spun around and made her way quickly out of the shop.
Sean looked down at what she had written and rolled his eyes. "You're both fucking idiots!"

(Reply to this)

that_evening
2008-05-04 07:55 pm UTC (link)

"It was a waste to do this in our town", I said. "All this time I wanted some sort of art project to happen here and, now that it has, it is just going to be filled up with random shoutouts to people. Nobody here gets it."

Amy pointed to spot near the top left corner. "Check it out. 'Johnny is the best bf eva'? What sort of statement is that?"

I grabbed a black marker and quickly wrote on two sections, though each of us had been told to try to use only one. "What are you doing?" Amy asked. "Why'd you write that?"

I stood back and smiled at my work. "If this is going to be full of random stuff by people who learned of love through high-school soap operas and soft ballads, then at least let a couple of the sections mean something. If they are curious about who wrote this and the story behind it, at least it made them think"

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step6error
2008-05-04 08:10 pm UTC (link)

The two of them looked at the tiny squares of paper.

He scratched his chin. "Post-it notes."

His friend nodded. "Post-it notes."

"Why don't they just talk to each other? I mean, they know about it now, don't they?"

"No, no, the post-its are anonymous, so nobody kno-"

"Dude. It's handwriting. You can tell. Look. See how the E's look like reversed 3's? That's Steve. And I'd recognize Mary's handwriting anywhere."

His friend crossed his arms across his chest. "Hmm. Yeah, I guess... but... well... well maybe they don't mean it about each other."

"What?"

"Well, c'mon, I mean, you know when someone says something relative to them, and then it registers something in your head relative to you, and they're similar but not the same. Right? So maybe the guy's talking about a girl, but not the girl who wrote the other note."

"Steve and Mary, dude. They have names. There's no 'the girl' and 'the guy'."

"Shut up, it's artistic."

"Yeah well, there's a fine line between artistic and autistic and quite frankly this crosses it. I mean, come on, just out and fucking say it. Quit skirting around with -- with post-it note bloggage."

He took out a pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled on the two notes below Steve and Mary's confessions.

To whom it may concern, AKA STEVE AND MARY

Please save the drama for your Livejournals. Thank you!

"There."

"What's a Livejournal?"

"Post-It Note 2.0, basically."

(Reply to this)(Thread)

	__troubledheart 2008-05-04 10:38 pm UTC (link)
	this made my heart smile :] (Reply to this)(Parent)(Thread)

	step6error 2008-05-04 11:07 pm UTC (link)
	Glad you liked it. :) (Reply to this)(Parent)

Tell everyone you love them today.

lanyel
2008-05-04 08:56 pm UTC (link)

"Knowing Adam and Mary was a pleasure and a pain.
They were a pleasure because they were two young, bright, wonderful people just starting out with their lives. They had gone on a trip to Peru but while they were there some of their problems kept popping up so instead of enjoying their second vacation together, they kept fighting. I saw them on that last day, and it was sad, they had seemed so happy together when they met, and then for some of the smallest reasons they had become miserable together.

I had talked to them both before they left and they had said something about the other person that wasn't kind, something small that irritated them about the other person, and they had told me that it had gone so far that they were considering breaking up.

So they stepped on that plane, sitting in different seats on the opposing parts of the plane, probably thinking about tomorrow, their work, their situation and where their relationship was going to go.... when their plane went down.

My sister and my best friend died, and it tore me apart. But what hurt even more is that these two people, had been so deeply in love, and what they were fighting about was love. On Mary, and on Adam, desperately, they had written these notes and put them in their respective pockets as they felt the plane go down, just in case that they didn't make it, so that if the other lived, they would know that they had loved them, even if they may not have loved them back.

And in Adam's pocket, there was also a ring. Mary had been angry that they had not been married yet, and Adam did not want to propose to her until she calmed down, because it would not make for a good memory.

I hope they are in heaven with a kind god, and that they can live together as lovers, both knowing that they both loved each other deeply and that they would have been together today if fate and circumstance had not plucked them in their prime years.

It should also be a lesson to us to always tell significant others, whether friends, family, or our loves, how we really feel about them, and not to wait, because perhaps this is our last day. And it should also teach us to live our life to the fullest, with those people we consider special. Bless you all".

(Reply to this)

	kick_back_80s 2008-05-04 08:58 pm UTC (link)
	She had scribbled it on impulse, in response to the words that were written before her. And then, before she leapt, she wondered if he had written them for the same reason she had... (Reply to this)

winged_books
2008-05-04 09:15 pm UTC (link)

Post-it notes fluttered around her room, her fan blowing them every which way. She scooped them up one by one, catching them like delicate butterfly wings until only the wind from her fan brushed against her ankles.

She read them over and over, flinging them back into the air when she finished. She danced in her room, the notes blowing past her - landing in her hair. She cradled the notes to her chest like precious gems when she caught them again, and let them go like dandelion wishes.

She danced until her legs hurt and the post-it notes were wrinkled from wear. She smiled and smiled until her heart ached all over, then opened the window and let all the notes sail away.

One by one they flew out of her window, yellow, pink and blue leaves soaring high. She watched them go, a young girl snatching one of the notes from the sky; the girl smiled and began to dance, catching the notes and letting them go.

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sagittaire
2008-05-04 09:15 pm UTC (link)

The post-it note hadn't made it through the night. The monitors in the room were all so dusty, and HR never bothered to order actual, brand-name post-its. It wasn't the right kind of yellow, it was the Office Max generic brand that could be bought in a gross for $4.99.

It was writing side down on the keyboard, sharpie ink bleeding through in vague little dots where a hand had paused. It hadn't been a true sharpie, either, the ink faded to a strange brown-purple sheen instead of something closer to a true black. The little strip of stickiness was gray and fuzzy with dust.

But there it was.

And it made her smile.

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	winged_books 2008-05-04 09:21 pm UTC (link)
	Simple, but sweet. :) I like it. (Reply to this)(Parent)

technicolorglee
2008-05-04 10:45 pm UTC (link)

Peels of Orange
May 4, 2008

Peels of orange
Fresh on my tongue
Curling ribbons in the sky
Brought down by
The celestial weight of
The world’s sorrows

Flashes of radiant pink
Peeking out beneath blue bonnets
A crowd of girls blushing
Before a parade of clouds
Their cheering deafening
In the quiet of the coming night

We are sprawled across a blanket
Two children of the world
Entwined with infantile wants
Infantile desires, infantile love
A mix of not-knowing and all-knowing
The ripened fruit of summer love.

And you, a contortionist
Surrounding me with infinite thought
Infinite feeling, infinite warmth
Cloaked in scarlet hues
Of the dying new-summer day
Smiling into the sunset

And I, an explorer
Divining your innermost secrets
Innermost fears, innermost passions
Collecting whispers of truth
From a maelstrom of inconsequentials
And insecurities.

We are tied together
Pool of interdependent thought
Interdependent dreams, interdependent futures
Our ripple-tense futures
Mesh and double over
Then collapse and fall apart

Swans in white
Look down upon us
Bathed in their purple robes
Mute to the crying earth
Tearless to our pleas, they watch
And they know that we shall drift

Glossy tables of ebony
Display the pitiless flock
And mask the sun that smiled
On our playful paths
We have no indulgent friends
In the twilight of our love.

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fairislandwhit
2008-05-04 11:31 pm UTC (link)

"I hate being their go between. I doubt either of them knows what they're arguing about anymore."

"They love each other though so it's kinda sweet."

"You mean nauseating."

"No, I mean sweet. They're in that newly wed stage."

"They've been together for 2 years now. It's not the newly wed stage anymore. It's like relationship limbo. They never got past the newly wed stage but their relationship won't grow anymore and they refuse to let it regress into friendship."

"Why do you care so much anyway?"

"I hate being their go between. I've known her for years. It should be me."

"Doesn't that just mean your chance has already sailed by?"

"I'll deliver the post-its to the love birds."

"Don't 'lose' them along the way!"

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alexandria_skye
2008-05-05 01:46 am UTC (link)

(ah! photo prompted flashback!!)

i shouldn't have let him use my post-its, especially after i realized what he was doing. as a teacher's aid, it was probably my job to stop him, but i thought it was funny. i was only a sophmore, after all, and the sight of our teacher's computer screen completely eclipsed by my bright orange post-its was a sight to behold.

apparently, our teacher didn't think much of the feat. as he stalked back into his office, he tore them off one by one, each with a satisfying velcro-like sticking noise as it parted from the glowing screen.

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melissarose8585
2008-05-05 03:01 am UTC (link)

Obviously he didn't love her too much, it wasn't worth it if it wasn't busting out at the seams, needing to be screamed at the top of his lungs.

She sighed, writing her answer to his impromptu mini-monologue. The cap clicked back onto her Sharpie and, shaking her head, she walked off towards the exit.

It wasn't that she didn't care, it was that she wanted the full fairy tale. And that included a proposal, in person.

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jesuslovesbono
2008-05-05 03:29 am UTC (link)

i don't care if you love me or not, my eyes are on you, eyes of my heart every second of every day, and i don't care either if my 1st and 2nd eyes don't see you on the physical because in yetzirah, the watery emotional plane, my 3rd eye sees you clearly and my heart swims to you, to the south west, swims into your own heart, into your dreams as you sleep, and then may leave in jealousy because she's taking up so much space in there.
that's all right.
i'm still thinking of you when i think of baseball, especially the yankees, and when the police or the beatles or bob dylan play on the radio, and of course south park and family remind me as well...

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	cool_tre_cool 2008-05-05 06:03 am UTC (link)
	It was llike passing notes in their lockers all over again. (Reply to this)

lejune
2008-05-05 06:58 pm UTC (link)

But it was never easy. Others could go and say "i love you" and just continue with whatever they had done before.
She never could. She loved him more than she had ever loved anything; she would have given everything up just for him; nothing could hurt her as long as she knew he was by her side. But she could never tell him she loved him.
- He left her because she didn't care enough.

Maybe someone else would tell him.

(Reply to this)

	log_junkie 2008-05-05 08:21 pm UTC (link)
	Dear Kristopher, I love you. I know you love me, too; I can taste it on your lips. Why can't I bring myself to tell you to your face? With all my heart, Laura (Reply to this)

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