“Please sing now.”
You obey. You listen dazedly to your own voice. Och, I wonder how bad that actually sounded? Mmm...that note was smooth. Yikes, it’s over.
“Now read.”
Again you comply. You hear the biting sarcasm in your voice, the delight, the sadness; you feel the lines on your tongue and the character lives through you just for a moment, yet you can detachedly think these thoughts. Perhaps you should have said that line more...
“Thank you.”

Mr. Andrews holds his classes in a gym room of roughly forty feet by twenty. Upon entering, you would first notice a tall, wooden compartment standing by the doorway, with an assortment of sticks, bags, short swords, and shoes all shoved into these compartments, or arranged against the left wall with no amount of orderliness. As you face either straight ahead or to the right, a wall of glass stares back at you. A small, knob-less door on the back wall leads to a scary closet that smells of old sweat where Mr.

(Note: This is meant to be read after Hope Victorious- Prologue)
Chapter 1: The Outlaw

March 543

“My Lord, everything is in place. Your followers are ready to fight.”
Turning from the cold stone wall of the cave, Ciaran looked at Donal. “It is not time yet. Just wait.”

Prologue:
Olandern, December 543

wake up,
and pray the day goes well
we've got secrets for sell, first come and first serve
i watch your lies make it so much worse
and i
am borrowing your time
just enough to get me by, your alibi
lacks every bit of sense,
"oh, conscience, how've you been?"
(please forgo the fake sentiment)

i may sound bitter and somewhat contrite
but the nights are just passing me (good)by(e).

My two fictional heroes.

Captain Horatio Hornblower and Captain Jack Aubrey finally meet.

Her brown hair, normally rather mousy, reflected a rainbow of colors in the sunlight as she entered the holy place. She was not of the faith, but respected the idea. Her clothes were riotously vivid colors of orange and yellow and red, gold trim and sweeping folds, her jewelry fake gold, heavy and ornate. Only her bindi truly reflected her personality: small, sophisticated, delicate. Her feet were bare and she felt she looked out of place, pale. She nodded to families as she shyly dipped away to a quiet corner of the temple to stretch and wait.

[Ok, so this is the Prologue a novel I'm writing that I haven't named yet, lol. Once I finish the first chapter, I'll post that too. Word count for just this is.... 1,121 words. He he he, anyways, here you are...]

(7-26-07 around 11 a.m.)

I don't know. I can't make sense of anything....

(still 7-26-07 time?)

I guess I should start over. My name is Mariah, and this is...I don't know what it is. I'm writing to calm myself down. But it's making everything a reality, less a nightmare I'm going to wake up from.

I've been wanting to write fiction, but I can't decide whether it should be a short story or a chaptered. I just feel like getting lost in writing a story. If anyone happens to read this, please comment.
What would you like to read???(chaptered,short,adventure,fantasy,love story,etc.)