General

In her mind's eye the 1960's diner was vibrant, buzzing with young folk and had rock 'n' roll playing in against a background of chatter. The servers would be in bright uniforms, likely on roller skates. Everything would be classic, refurbished and perfect. On bursting through the double doors her smile faded faster than a cheap back t-shirt. It was dingy, cluttered and smelt of old frying oil. The seat covers in the bays were faded red and ripped. The white floor wasn't white at all. The original tables had been replaced with something looking mass-produced and the servers just sneered, quickly returning to their texting. It wasn't the birthday Reese had been hoping for, it was just a bit depressing. A minute later Ed burst in laughing about some guy on the street mistaking him for Bill Gates, but the minute his eyes adjusted to the gloom it died in his throat. Seeing the disappointment etched on her face he swung his arm around her sagging shoulders and declared it curry night.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, November 17, 2014.
General

In her many and varied imaginings of this day they had all been alike in one particular way. In every one the sun had shone, she had taken that part for granted, it was August after all. By tradition she would be before the nation in her inaugural gown three hours after the dawn lit the sky with it's characteristic pinks and orange. Her subjects were superstitious, they would not see just a bank of storm cloud above they would see an omen, perhaps a message, and as the first female monarch in two centuries it was something she could ill afford. It was a disappointing and somewhat worrisome beginning to what was after all her destiny. Before summoning her dressers she recast her face into one of superiority, erasing the crestfallen face that belonged to a girl her age but not to a queen.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, November 18, 2014.
General

I feel like an undertaker watching a man being swallowed by a shark.

By descriptionari, July 2, 2012.

Found in Murder in the Gunroom, authored by Henry Beam Piper.

General

He should have been here by now. The happy, chattering crowds had long since flowed into the theatre. In the almost deserted street she leant against a lamppost and gazed up a the pool of yellow light that lapped around the bulb. As her head sagged back down to her chest she removed her bling-bling earrings and hailed a cab.

By james, April 14, 2012.
General

The morning had broken like the sweet melody of a blackbird, full of promise, freshness and newness to come. Now it sat like a cold cup of coffee waiting to be drained away.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, November 17, 2014.
General

She slid her exam results back into their small brown envelope with fumbling fingers and leaden eyes. She could hear the excited chatter of her friends outside, comparing results, discussing which university they were headed for. Rearranging her face into something she hoped was nonchalant and casual looking she sauntered through the crowd. "I haven't opened them yet," she chirped to a friend and then turned to walk briskly down the lane away from the school, away from her old life, into a future full of uncertainty and doubt.

By angela, April 14, 2012.
General

Lisa threw her head back and laughed. "Hypocrite? Ha! Yes, of course I'm a hypocrite, but then there are two of me. There's my subconscious mind with its high ideals and my conscious that just wants to ensure the survival of me and you. So yes, I want to fight global warming and I drive a car, I want animal rights and I buy meat, I abhor slave labor and I wear clothes. I pity those who aren't hypocrites, because all they hear is the screaming of their conscious minds day and night: survive, eat, fear, danger. They have no range of morals to be hypocritical about." James looked at her for a few seconds, hands in pockets, it wasn't the response he'd been hoping for. He wanted her to walk her talk and instead she was set on carrying on just the same as those without her insights. One more sheep in the paddock. Or maybe she just saw too much, and how can anyone fix all that?

General

When Dora was little valentines day meant one thing - chocolate. What wasn't to like? Everyone got cards and the class had a party. Fabulous! A day to celebrate love and eat candy? Right on! When she got to middle school it felt less pleasant, exciting in a way, but the pretty girls got cards and the ugly ones got either nothing or "joke cards" to wind them up. When she got her first boyfriend she was all of a buzz, finally the romantic dinner, the candles, the rose petals! Finally she would be one of the lucky ones off to some fancy party! Chad showed up with a dopey little grin, still his work clothes. Then from behind his back he pulled some cupcakes that looked like some pre-school baking experiment gone horribly wrong. Dora felt like her guts just got cement pumped into them. This couldn't be right. She thought Chad loved her and all she got was the worst looking cupcakes in the world. He didn't love her after all. She knew what love looked like, and this wasn't it.

General

I checked my mobile phone, I had a text from Ms. Hyde reminding me that I had I had training. "George, I have been called into work, I'm ever so sorry I hope that you don't mind". I said to him watching the sparkle in his eyes fade with disappointment.

By purplecompton, February 1, 2015.

Found in Backtracked, authored by lauren Green (purplecompton) Wattpad.