Hey, writer-type folks. AND PEOPLE WHO JUST WANT TO PLAY BUT DON'T IDENTIFY AS 'WRITERS' - all are welcome here! Every Friday, we do a fun free-write. For fun. And Freedom!
Write whatever you want in the 'comments' section on this blog post. Play as many times as you like. #breaktheblog! You have two minutes (give or take a few seconds ... no pressure!). Have fun. The more people who play, the more fun it is. So, tell a friend. Then send 'em here to read your 'two' and encourage them to play.
He rested, head on fist on elbow, in a slice of moonlight - a bright ray through the damp Autumn night. His hands were filthy, nails torn. Around him, there were holes. He had used his hands to make those holes and, still, he had found nothing. He knew it was there, though, and he would not stop.
His black suit was covered in dirt and clay, but he didn't care. His brother was in the ground now, but he would not think about it. He pounced on another patch of bleak scrub grass and dug in with his nails. He was this close to using his teeth. He needed to keep digging.
It was morning, and there were holes everywhere, when he finally found it. The coffee can was just as he remembered and, inside, he found his brother. Just like he knew he would.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)