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FFM 2017, 7 - Like Broken Glass
We were blind except for the last cigarette. We sat there, or maybe she stood and I sat, watching the little ember burn down. The cigarette kept the darkness back but it wouldn’t save us from the weight of our moldering unspoken thoughts.
Someone had to speak but not me, not me.
Ash fell from the cigarette — in our silence, we heard it hit the ground.
The glow got weak. I put the filter to my lips and drew in a short, hot breath of smoke.
The light flared back to life.
Not much of a smoker, I coughed and broke the silence.
“I’m sorry,” we both said. Our voices echoed and a pause followed, the silence threatening to reign.
“I… I’m sorrier,” I said, lamely. “For doing it. Doing this.”
A pause.
A long pause.
“…It’s alright. I just want to… do you still love me?” she said.
“Yes,” I whispered, lifting the cigarette towards her voice. “God, yes.”
“But we both know you
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Mature content
FFM 6, 2017 - Gonzo Freight Train :icontuesdaynightcompany:TuesdayNightCompany 1 0
FFM 5, 2017 - In the Night, Speaking to a Rich Man
I am scared.
Scared of the government, of rich people.
I am scared of powerful people.
Hard not to be, the way this country is. People get dragged off into the night, no reason, no hope for a reason. When you are taken, you’re gone.
You’re gone.
Innocent, guilty. All gone.
The government, I guess they are scared too?
Everyone is being taken. All the politicians, they don’t go home anymore. The soldiers, they moved their families into the barracks to keep them safe. Rich people, they move away or they barricade themselves.
The people, they are scared.
Everyone is not safe, anyone may be dragged off into the night.
Innocent, guilty. Government, commoner. All might be dragged into the night.
I am only scared of the powerful, for someone there might become smart.
Someone with the power and money of government might realize why they find no bodies, why the people who vanish disappear so completely.
I have stopped trying to control my hunger and no one knows what I am. But
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FFM 4 2017 - Dancing Crystals
I was born and molded in the fire. We all were. My brothers and sisters were made to be all sorts of animals; giraffes, unicorns, monkeys, dragons…
I was different. I started as a bird but my father let me become too soft. He made me a new thing, different from my family. I became a special little monster with a round bubble head, birdie feet and four dragonfly wings.
When father was done making all of us, he gave us Sparks. We were all special, father said. He said we were only made of good things, like laughter and the feeling of a mother’s hug.
My brothers and sisters, they learned to dance, their crystal bodies a sparkling delight. They sang too, making tiny fluting noises or hollow whispery howls. We all learned to make music of joy with our voices and crystal bodies, to dance of delight with rainbows leaping from our limbs. Our Sparks made us alive but father made us happy.
All my brothers and sisters danced and sang. But though many of my family were birds, none of t
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FFM 3 2017 - The Bra
Alejandro had only gone to the party to pick up his sister.
Now, the sun was rising and he was lying on his back in dewy grass, wearing nothing but a lacy double-D bra around his junk. The bra looked sort of familiar.
Oh no.
With a rising sense of horror, Alejandro lifted his head.
Manuela was walking towards him, looking down. Down there. At his junk-bra.
“Looks like a success!” she said.
Alejandro had no idea what she was talking about. He was basically naked in the school soccer field and Manuela was looking at him like it didn’t matter.
He had a wonderful thought and checked.
No, damnit, this bra was not her size.
“You don’t remember, do you?” she said.
“What?” Alejandro said.
“Why you have wings,” she said, pointing.
Alejandro glanced to his side and saw a gigantic wing projecting away from his body.
“Whaaaaaaaaaaaa…” Alejandro forgot to make a word and kept making a noi
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FFM 2 2017 - Parallels
Danielle stood in front of her car, completely at a loss as to why she was there.
Dani slumped against her car, trying to reach what she’d left on the driver’s seat.
Danielle stared at the driver’s seat. Did she leave something on the driver’s seat?
It was no good. Dani collapsed, breathing hard.
Danielle glanced at her phone in her hand. Nope, she obviously had her phone. What was it that she needed?
“Oh my god! Are you okay?” her friend Kiara’s voice shouted from the street at Dani. Dani, breathing like a winded horse, was clearly not okay.
“Danielle! Are you ready?” Kiala shouted from the street. Danielle glanced up to see Kiala had pulled up already and here she was, standing around like an idiot.
“Uh, yeah, yeah I’m ready!” she said, walking over to their car.
Dani was going into respiratory arrest but managed to walk to the ambulance with Kiara’s help.
Danielle got into t
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FFM 1 2017 - The Beat
Heartbeat erratic.
It’s disturbing. The skipping heartbeats make him cough.
“Wade? Are you alone?” a woman’s voice asks.
“What?” he says. Something felt wrong.
“Hm. You shouldn’t be here at all,” she says.
“What?” he says. “What do you–”
The bridge. The double-dog-dare.
The bridge was rotten and it had collapsed. It had collapsed under his feet, his and Quint’s feet.
“Where’s Quint?!” Wade shouts. His eyes open and he sits upright, not realizing that he had been lying down or that his eyes were closed.
He screams.
The woman is a red monkey with a notebook and she is on fire. Everything is on fire. He’s on fire.
“Jaysus Christ!” he screams. He’s running before he realizes he’s jumped to his feet.
“Hey wait!" the red monkey calls. Her voice sounds like Marilyn Monroe’s.
He runs down a hall, a hall that looks like any hospital hall wi
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Introvert Receives Daily Deviation by TuesdayNightCompany Introvert Receives Daily Deviation :icontuesdaynightcompany:TuesdayNightCompany 5 4
Hero Arc: Kid of the Black Hats
    The Black Hats
    Hero Arc for Protagonist: Kid
    Some story notes: Story set in Los Angeles, 1982. Kid lived with the Rigby’s, unofficially, when 7/8 years old. (She had no family — wouldn’t say why.) She knows them, they know her. Kid was also directly worked with Charles as an occasional drug runner. Kid knew that Charles was the murderer of Heaven Rigby [died 1975]. Kid ended up in foster care after being hospitalized with severe burns — Charles disappeared with some burn damage himself and was never brought to justice.
    Ordinary world: Kid attends hangs out at church with her childhood friend, Benny Rigby. They volunteer and so on. Kid dreams of being rich with no distinct idea of how to do that. Goal, false. However, it’s clear that Kid is lying to everyone about everything from her ge
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Outline: The Black Hats
Introduction to Characters: This is a story about a mixed-race punk rock band in Los Angeles, 1981.  The main character, Kid, is a female foster child of profoundly mixed ethnicity with severe burn scars across her chest and left shoulder.  She pretends to be male in order to be accepted. She plays guitar and back up vocals.  Lead singer Clobber is white, Benny the drummer is black, and their eventual bassist Justin is white.  Benny and Kid are good friends and lived together in the Rigby house (Mrs Rigby is Benny’s mom) in South Central for a while.
Story Start: The entire band is covered in blood and handcuffed to chairs in a hospital.
Inciting Incident: Flashback mode - the death of “Heavy B” Heaven and the involvement of Charles.  Kid used to work for Charles as a local drug runner.  Kid is lit on fire [possibly while attempting to kill Charles or visa versa] and ends up hospitalized and then in foster care outside of So
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Being Kind, the Rewind
It's an interesting contrast, the stories to reality.  
She is, now, an old woman.  She is shrunken and shriveled but still gets around on her own gumption.  However, these days, as her body runs down, her mind rewinds.
Back then, she ran off to go marry a young soldier that daddy had never met.  It was a shocking bus ride across the segregated South for a girl from an all-white Oklahoma mining town.  Back then, she was young and it was 1944.
She tells stories of her past.  They aren't exactly true, but stories never are.
The patriotic youth of World War II become the ancient in the Internet Age.  
Young blood to blood transfusions.
As she lays in her hospital bed, the past kindly plays again.
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The Well Beast and I
"NO," the beast in the well said.
"What do you mean, 'no'?  Don't you know what an ultimatum is?" I shouted down at it. "I really will do it!"
"NO," the beast said.  "IS TRICK."
"I really don't have to cut you this slack," I yelled.  "I really loved that cat!  Not even the Prior would blame me for taking revenge!"
"WAS GOOD," the beast said.
"Was...? Wait. Did you just tell me how delicious my pet was?  Did you really, in the name of cruel irony, tell me that my Mr. Snickers was delicious?"
"WAS GOOD," the beast confirmed.
"Alright, this is fucking happening," I said, getting up onto the lip of the well.  I unzipped my fly.
"NO, IS TRICK," the beast said, a little uncertainly.
I whipped out my man-hose and started peeing down the well.
"NO NO NO NO NO," the beast said.  The walls of the well shook as the beast writhed around.
"Nowhere to hide in a well, is there?" I called down.  "I've been drinking an awful lot of water!  Why, I daresay I c
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All My Eyes
Blood was dripping from the green eyeballs.  Again.
 "Oh gross," Terrence said.
I quickly went into the kitchen and grabbed a roll of paper towels.  I tossed the roll at Terrence.
 "Can you please get the blood on the carpet?" I said as I leaned against the sink.
 "You're pretty nervous, aren't you?" Terrence said as he unwound the roll.  "They only start bleeding when you get nervous."
 "No. Yes," I said, watching blood pitter patter onto the kitchen linoleum.
I glanced up at the eyeballs floating around me. Sixteen eyeballs of various sizes, from soccer-ball sized Big Blue to the two Black Beady's.  They could rotate, focus, unfocus, and go up and down.  But unless I was backed up against a wall, they never changed their positioning.  I had never touched one of them - they were always positioned just out of arms reach.
Anyone else could touch them, though.
Right on cue, Mitten the Kitten rocketed into the kitchen and leapt onto the ne
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Sparks Watching Camila
Sparks wanted to kiss her.
Camila was seduction in sequined sweatpants.  Barely 5'4" and definitely a bit more than 150 pounds, she was round and smooth.  Her wild curls were a bit undone but her makeup was perfect.
Camila clapped at the girls and twisted her hips to show how it was done.
Then she backed up the music and had them do it again.
As the girls once again tried to perfect their forward ocho, Sparks stared at Camila.
Camila with her sharp eyes, with her flamenco wrists, with her Argentine posture.
Camila on the dance floor, in Sparks' arms, Camila in the bedroom, on Sparks' lips.
As Sparks watched her in the reflection of the dance mirror, he realized that he really did love Camila.
Just to check one more time, Sparks went back to the front office and picked up a pamphlet.
He lifted the pamphlet to his lips and lightly kissed it.
It caught on fire.
Sparks clapped a hand over it to squelch the flame and quickly stepped into the open bathroom.  He gingerly turned
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Overheard in the Surgeon's Office
I stood on top of the dragon's smoldering head and announced, "I killed this burning bastard!"
The villagers stood there, gaping, for some moments.
Then one of them said, "We paid you to kill the maiden."
"I'm sorry, what?" I said.
"The maiden, the witch.  She's the one burning our crops down."
Another villager piped up and said, "That's Old Bill.  We rather liked Old Bill."
"You liked a dragon?" I said.
"He was a wyrm.  But he's so old, he can't chew.  We've been feeding him stew and he's been keeping the robbers away," a different villager said.
There was a long stretch of silence as the villagers and I just stared at each other.
So anyway, that's how I got this pitchfork in my arse.
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Mature content
Hauling Shit in Wartime :icontuesdaynightcompany:TuesdayNightCompany 0 2


I've actually been writing on a story almost all year, guys. I swear. It's about Dr. Clinkscale, that villain from Problems with the Staff (Revised) that I wrote... a while ago.
But it's got over 50k words into it now. Seriously folks, get a friend or a small writer's group to hold you accountable for your weekly wordage. It's the only way to go when you have a hard time getting in a writing routine.
Why are only my comedy stories popular? Everyone's got a funny bone but mine hasn't laughed in years.


United States


I've actually been writing on a story almost all year, guys. I swear. It's about Dr. Clinkscale, that villain from Problems with the Staff (Revised) that I wrote... a while ago.
But it's got over 50k words into it now. Seriously folks, get a friend or a small writer's group to hold you accountable for your weekly wordage. It's the only way to go when you have a hard time getting in a writing routine.
Why are only my comedy stories popular? Everyone's got a funny bone but mine hasn't laughed in years.
And checking it all the damn time.
LOL so clever

So, so! New Year, right? It's all about starting new, my friends. Taking stock of what you've done and making it better.
And this is accomplished with a good old-fashioned list, some planning, and a lot of action.

I've done bloody fantastic this year, thank you very much!
Not everything worked for me, but then I kind of overestimated how much I can actually get done in a waking week. 90 hour weeks are not much fun, sunshines, not much fun at all.
Most of my academic and work goals were met, as were my camping goals! I camped 17 days this year, up from 2 last year, and I scratched the Grand Canyon (North Rim) off my to-visit list. At school, everyone seems to love me, which is an ego stroke I have gladly arched my back into. After last year's debacle (don't ask), I really appreciated being told I was awesome as opposed to the scum of the universe.
Physical skills/exercise and the arts went by the boards, down the tubes, and into Davy Jones' Locker.
So that's my focus this coming year.
I'm still working on my list, which I make a strong habit of making and breaking down into actionable items every year:

Double my income (I already doubled it this year, boom!), get half of a degree AND/OR an actual job with badass folks saving the world and shite, write + draw at least 3 short comics, complete the Clinkscale story so I can start releasing episodes (because wow that original FFM story has just been sitting there lonely for a while and the episodes are just festering in Scrivener), work at a native plant nursery, go visit another country for a purpose (not just as a tourist) and...

Oh! Learn how to do parkour properly so I look cool instead of like an emergency care patient, learn how to dress because I sometimes look like a butch hobo when I don't look like a sulky teen that the Nineties vomited on, learn how to actually style my hair so I don't look like a greasy electrocuted lion... 

...Man, I always gotta stop myself from basically writing down damn near everything one could possibly achieve in a single lifetime. I'll keep working on that Faster Than Light travel, though.
Thanks to neurotype for asking for goals and setting off this avalanche!

What do you want to achieve in 2018? How?


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Zara-Arletis Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for faving :icongrin--plz: 
FearlessFibreArts Featured By Owner Mar 14, 2016  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Thank you so much for the dev watch. I am honoured!
TuesdayNightCompany Featured By Owner Mar 17, 2016
No problem.  That's some badass knitting.
FearlessFibreArts Featured By Owner Mar 18, 2016  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Thank you so much!
SilverInkblot Featured By Owner Mar 10, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the devWatch :D
YppleJax Featured By Owner Nov 19, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the favorite on Rescue Missionary! :)
Emily-Byrd Featured By Owner Oct 13, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for taking the time to read and favorite "Meara and the Mermaid"! It means so much to me. :love:
comatose-comet Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
thanks for the fave :heart:
TuesdayNightCompany Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2015
Of course.
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