This year, WRITE FIGHT goes DIGITAL. Before Northern Spark, 24 writers will battle in daily, online bouts until there are only 6 left standing.
Her hair is long and black and when she looks at you, you do not look your mother in the eyes for a week because your eyes could tell stories that your mouth never could.
I started swimming again because I’m planning to swim past the moon once I’m dead and even beyond so I can see the ghosts that live on Pluto and catch the Hubble telescope on its way to Andromeda and wave to the lens with my ghost fingers even though nobody will see it.
First sentence: “We lost it up there.”
300 words. Submit by Thursday, 4/17.
I was about to shoot the last scene of the night:
A scene in the Dark Woods,
Opposite a screaming tree
With a mouth and eyes like a jack-o’-lantern.
And he wore out like an engine without oil.
He tried to steal a boat, he got caught in a sweep
In downtown LA that the addicts down there
Talked about for a year.
I’d told him that using a knife might hurt less than a gun. I was trying to be the voice of reason here, but within my reasoning, I could not deny that his missing pinkie tip would look pretty badass.