Writers' Guild

A community for writers of all genres to hone our craft, with monthly exercises, challenges, and collaborative writing. Open to anyone who enjoys writing!

Any Writers Out There

If you want a Writing Challenge, make one. This area isn't really active, and it's harder to monitor in its more-or-less-dead state, so I suggest putting it in the Writing threadgroup of the Creative Corner instead of the Writer's Guild subforum.

It sounds like, after reading Plugsy's, Mordae's and dauphinous' posts that we should just let the Writers Guild go and join in tomthenwriting threads in the Creative Corner. If that is what is best I'm okay with that. No sense in beating a dead horse.

But if there is a way to revive this place as a sub-community of MW without creating undue stress on management, I'm okay with that too.

The older man sighed and pushed the water bottle away on the dusty desk. The HDPE container had replaced the shot glass etched with a map of Scotland, and in his mind it became, in that instant, a symbol of the direction this weary planet seemed to be going...glass can be recycled... he thought; he pulled the flask from the fine, thick leather belt holding up his Campbell Clan kilt and blew the dust from the glass; he poured a stiff Laguvalin and took in the deep, pungent aroma.

He looked above the waning shadows cast by the low evening sun across the months of dust and gloom; his friend Kany sat looking back, wanting just a sign that things could once again be resurrected.

Kany watched as the amber liquid flowed in a most random pattern across the bottom of the glass; he stopped and shrugged his shoulders, filling the rest of the ounce-and-a-half; he handed the flask to Kany and gently caressed the shot of uise baetha, the water of life, in his other hand.

"Been a' wonderin' where ya gut ta, Kanster. Me guess is, ya been a' wonderin' whar I been, 's well. Truth is, been a tough 'alf yair, an' it 'as. Gut an idee, though. Let's throw a wairm oot thar, an' see wha' fish bites."

Kany smiled as he swigged. "Any idea come to mind?"

Agricolus sipped, savoring the sweet taste of the grains grown by a salty sea, roasted over the sulphorous steam from burning peat, aged in a brandy cask from Spain for 16 long, TLC-laden years. "Hae, an' I du, laddie buck. A short story, or even a 1000 word shorty, aboot man's devastation of the planet...centered aboot 'at water bottle, even. Grim, yet touchin'. Or just a story in general aboot the scourge of Man on 'is planet."

Kany smacked his lips and nodded. Then he frowned slightly. "Maybe a little lighter, perhaps?"

Agi smiled. "As yae wish. Writer's choice. Either bad weather an' ecological disaster, or a man and his dog. Or both. No time limit, but 'opefully less than two months. To yair likin'?"

Kany smiled. "Let's run it up the flagpole, see who salutes."

They clicked in agreement, flask on shot glass. Never spilled a drop.

Please kindly follow the signs pointing to the Writing threadgroup of Creative Corner...


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