My Wardrobe is a serial killer

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My Wardrobe is is a serial killer
An original piece

My wardrobe is a serial killer, it's killed about ten people. I know so, for I was killed by my wardrobe. In a very odd sort of circumstances, I was killed by my wardrobe as it fell flat down on my face.

That's odd; you say. How are you telling this story? I'll get to that in a minute. You see, this wardrobe was in the spare bedroom and was filled with no clothes. I went in to clean the spare bedroom one day, for my friend was visiting. I turned around and the wardrobe had grew and it knocked me down flat. I knew straight away I was no longer alive. The wardrobe got up and started to prick me with needles.

The wardrobe had transformed me into a dress and hung me in the wardrobe. It did the same to the other nine victims, which were my wive, three kids, two cleaners and my three friends who were staying over for the weekend. They are all clothes in the wardrobe.

I don't exactly when my wardrobe learned to sew, but he's pretty talented if I say so myself. The dress I was turned into is quite nice and I know my daughters would have loved to wear something as delightful.
Watch out, the new clothing designs in the store, could be people.

Kids, here's a lesson: never leave a wardrobe empty, for you may be turned into an item of clothing like me.
To write what comes to mind. That was the result when I looked up some writing exercises to get my juices flowing. I suppose I will narrate you a little update on my wriye progress. Here it goes.

A key for the characters
Writer = Me
Editor = That annoying voice in my head that I wish would become mute.

Editor: So, writer, how's wriye going? I hear you signed up to write 5.5k for the no quarter given challenge.
Writer: Yes, yes I did. I'm slightly insane. It's sunday and I've just basically at 2,500 words overall. However I'm very proud of my work so far.
Editor: Hmm, of course you would be proud of spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes
Writer: What's that supposed to mean? And beside, it's not like I'm writing a novel yet, I've just been writing outlines and I've written a few little shorts for my dreamwidth account.
Editor: What is this dreamwidth? Is it a journal where you write about your dreams?
Writer: No, wait - actually, you could write about your dreams.
Editor: Hmm, I might sign up for this just so I can find your account and correct your grammar.
Writer: Who hired you to edit my work? Was it a hit man?
Editor: No one hired me. You made me up.
Writer: Does that mean I could kill you or torture you.
Editor: Yes, but you don't want to.
Writer: The spectators gather round in shock as a herd of monkeys kidnap the editor and lock her away till August.
Prompt 46 wriye

This prompt is a picture of a lady sitting on a suitcase in the middle of the road.

Title: The Girl on The Suitcase

She sat on the suitcase. I hopped out of my car, with a briefcase. I put it down on the dusty road and sat down on the briefcase, beside her. She let out a girlish giggle and I smiled. She took off her sunglasses and opened her mouth.

“Hi, what's your name?" She said in a sweet, cheery voice and she offered her hand out for me to shake, to which I obliged.

“Tomas Kettle. Pleasure to meet you, what's your name and why are you out and about sitting on a suitcase? It's dangerous in these parts,” I informed her.

“Believe me if you want. My names cupid, I'm a relation to the great greek god Amore , a few dozen times great granddaughter to be precise, I have been sent down to these parts to find love for myself” She looked up into my eyes to see if I believed her. Sounded a bit nutty; but anything is possible is what my mama used to say to me when I was a little boy.

“Who's my soul mate then?" I ask, intrigued. She pulls out a little device from her pocket and shows me what the reading says. The reading says Cupid Amore. I look up at her and she blushes and turns away.

“Wanna grab some lunch with me? I know a good small diner down the road!” I announce. Grabbing dinner with practically a stranger is something I rarely did, however this stranger was going to turn out to be my soul mate. I needed to get to know Cupid Amore.

Cupid nods her head yes and she follows me in the direction of the diner, we get seated and order our food. We both order scrambled eggs and hot chocolate and we started to make some conversation.

“Cupid, I kind of feel awkward calling you Cupid. Is there any other name I can call you?” I asked, trying hard not to hurt her feelings. She smiled.

“ Some people call me Angel or Cecelia?” She supplied with a questioning tone.

“Cecelia it is. That means angel, right?” I ask her for confirmation on my thoughts. She nodded. We spent the day hanging out together.

Love is closer than you think.

I love this couple of Tomas and Cecelia or Tomelia. They are in my top 10 couples I have made up ( Adelliot of course are top)



June 2014

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