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February Writing Challenge

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Postby Shuarian » Mon Feb 12, 2007 6:50 pm

So, it looks as if it's my turn to come up with this month's writing challenge (I'm honoured):

Location: Railway Station
Contains: trains, other passengers, crying baby, yellow suitcase, small group of punks, large clock

This challenge is open until March 5th, 2007.

Good luck to everyone who enters. And don't forget to play by the rules :-)
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Postby rigger » Tue Feb 13, 2007 3:42 pm

First attempt at a writing contest, be gentle.

The dimly lit railway station extends like a long tunnel, a single point of light at each end marking the entrance and exits for the trains.

The hallway amplifies a din of noise from the other passengers along with the raucus sound of a crying baby. The sounds melding into an indeciphreable hum of activity.

Smoke drifts from the tip of a cigarette in the mouth of the obvious leader of a small group of punks. He ignores the comments of the passers by who continually point to the no smoking signs adorning the walls.

The group is gathered around a yellow suitcase which lies on its side on the concrete floor, it's latches torn from the edge of the case. They look nervously from the suitcase to one another as if deciding their next move.

The surreal scene is broken by the chime of the large clock hanging above the platform. The loud ringing echoing through the hallway as a rush of air from an arriving train gives you a chill.

You pull your coat around you and look to the exits.
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Postby David Whyld » Wed Feb 14, 2007 12:58 am

Railway Station
It was dark in the railway station. Dark and dismal and, perhaps, dreary. Perhaps? Well, with it being so dark and dismal, I couldn't see if it was dreary as well.

Somewhere a baby was crying. Whether this had anything to do with the small group of punks who were busy throwing large clocks at the other passengers wasn't too clear but I'd have bet money on it.

A bright yellow suitcase rested carelessly on a bench nearby. I'd assumed there was a bomb in it when I first arrived so had graciously allowed others to sit on the bench in my stead. I am nothing if not a considerate fellow.

Now it was simply a case of waiting for the trains to arrive and hope none of the punks took it in their mind to start throwing the passengers onto the tracks.
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Postby Cannibal » Wed Feb 14, 2007 2:51 pm

Railway Station
With the rain driving relentlessly against the station roof and splashing off the shiny, weed choked rails below, I sheltered on the grubby platform, safe now from the small group of punks who had chased me here.

There was no sign of any other passengers or trains and the large clock, hanging from a heavy rusting chain, creaked steadily in the cutting wind and threw omnious seconds that chilled my thoughts.

I could see the single yellow suitcase. I could hear the crying baby.


I might have escaped the punks...but I hadn't escaped my fate.

Exits: north, south and in.
The Plague (Redux), The Woods Are Dark, The Night That Dripped Blood
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Postby J. A. Hatfield » Sun Feb 25, 2007 12:05 am

Trains were a primary manner of transport for the city of Aphasia, and its citizens were all nestled to the left and to the right of the railway station, positioned in the very heart of the town. As the train came in, the tracks melted underneath it, leaving a pale warm goo which allowed to train to slow down. Another train, on its way out of Aphasia, turned itself upside down and was absorbed into the ground like a hungry sloth mangling a peach.

Passengers began to step out of the multicolored train which glowed brighter than a dozen suns, likewise, even the passengers themselves were radiated from the illumination. One of the passengers, a young woman, made her way across the platform. As she moved passed a group of young punks, the notorious kind who enjoyed spraying public buildings with cheese, lighting things on fire, and eating various raw materials that might happen to be lying around, began walking into one another until they all combined together in what can only be described as the most ghastly, hideous thing ever to walk the Earth, yet nobody around them paid much attention to them, as they were just teenagers.

The woman continued on her way, holding her yellow suitcase full of empty boxes of candies, tuna tins, and greasy oil. This suitcase was very valuable, as the mayor of Aphasia was willing to purchase it for a thousand dollars, or two minutes, whichever came first.

That is when you notice something strange... The woman stops, drops the suitcase, and begins emitting low groaning sounds while clutching her chest. About to rush to her aid, you are stopped by some unknown force which seems to taunt you endlessly with chants of "nobody loves you" and "you'll never get a job that pays higher than minimum wage". The woman grabs the top of her head with one hand, and the bottom of her jaw with her other. Dislocating her jaw in what seems like a split second, her mouth opens wide and out comes a giant black raven. The woman falls, dead, while the raven flies towards you carrying a large blue egg.

The egg shakes after you catch it, and then cracks open. To your astonishment, there inside the egg is an eight month old baby, complete with diaper and pacifier. Obviously, with no parenting skills, you're not quite sure what to do with the baby.

Adoption? Maybe. You could attempt to combine it with that streetlight over there and make some sort of freakish streetlight-infant, but what would the neighbors say?

The large clock hanging by dental floss from a wooden post near the front of the station begins chiming as the clock strikes thirteen. Thirteen, you may ask? Well, certainly one extra hour could prove useful. Who needs that pesky twenty-fourth hour, anyways?
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Postby Shuarian » Tue Mar 06, 2007 9:38 am

This challenge is now closed. You may vote for your favourite entry in the voting thread, or try your luck in the March Writing Challenge.

Edited By Shuarian on 1173174245
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