Write a story in three sentences.

He could feel the life draining out of him, could see the red liquid dripping down the arrow shaft. He wondered if he had done enough, if he had made a difference. The soft darkness that enveloped him held no answer.

Oh my...
That's...sad.
 
He sat down on the floor, taking his place at the other's side. Cheering people up was never his strong suit but he it didn't matter. He would never be able to say he loved him but he'd definitely find time to sit with him on that dirty bathroom floor.
 
Not gonna lie but when I first read this I had to look behind me because I was spooked. :p

I know... My teacher wrote this once to demonstrate about the three sentence story.
I wasn't very comfortable either...:confused:
*Nervous laugh*
 
He sat down on the floor, taking his place at the other's side. Cheering people up was never his strong suit but he it didn't matter. He would never be able to say he loved him but he'd definitely find time to sit with him on that dirty bathroom floor.

When we fear things might get worse, hmm...
 
1. He is colourful, she doesn't know. She is beauty, only he knows. A fate entwined with the flavours of the rainbow.

2. When Adam meets Avarnaa in an online dating app, he didn't really expect much. Just some dates and laughs. But stumble around in a dating app and even the unexpected will find you.
 
When things fell apart, he took their hands and comforted them. When death embraced their love ones, he was there for them to cry on his shoulder. When words stabbed through his heart, tearing him into pieces, all that left was the knife sitting on his sink, calling out his name.

(It's so dark shudders, I never thought I could write something so sad and terrifying before)
 
She stared down into her stew, seeing the reflection of herself, and how pale she looked against the darkened background. A small groaning came from her right, she looked to see her father reaching out to her, but was he really her father when his face was half-gone? She looked back down into her strew, thanking her father for the sacrifice as the eyeball in the bowl turned up to look at her; she smiled with rows of teeth as she took her spoon and scooped it up and into her mouth—eating human flesh never satisfied her, it never would.
 
As the darkness enveloped the foggy room, I looked at the mirror. I stared at the reflection smiling, the evil pouring from it like a waterfall, the dark voices in my mind. The reflection smiled back.
 
The chick hatched out of the egg. The chick somehow created a portal to the kitchen. The chick has a knife.
So no lie, because it said "chick" it saw it as a woman, then reread it and saw a little baby chicken. Is it horrible that I laughed at both? I know it's not supposed to be funny, it's just, the images in my mind and the word-play was.
 
Black is the absence of light. White is the absence of dark. So is the gray I feel the absence of nothing?
 
She looked out of her window, glad that this was her fate. Nothing compares to the pain she feels. So why does she feel so relieved?
 
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