The Furry Forums
Creative Arts and Media => Creative Writing => Topic started by: Gabag on October 21, 2010, 07:05:17 PM
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To the various furry writers, poets, and other forms of literature writing furries, I issue a challenge.
I wil supply a sentence, can you create a short story from it?
"we are learning to make fire..."
You can do anything with said fire,
Your story ccan be Pre Historic, narrative fiction, future, etc. etc.
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Wouldn't this be technically a game :3
The rain rages against the tent. It has been now eight days before we go stranded here, six days sense Raphl was bit, 4 days sense he felt ill, and now two day sense we had our last meal. His palms feel cold, but his face burns with such heat, I'm at a lost right now, I can't just leave him, but what am I suppose to do for food. The best thing he told me was "we are learning how to make fire"
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Banished from our home, we are cursed to walk this barren desert for the rest of our lives. We have found a small cave that we're using for shelter, and we have food that they gave us to help us survive. The nights are colder than we have ever imagined and we will surely freeze to death out here. I remember tales from my youth of people making something called fire from rubbing sticks together. It was supposed to keep them warm, but its just a fairy tale. Perhaps out of desperation, I went out to gather sticks from a nearby thisle bush. Sticking them in a pile in the cave, I began to rub a large stick in the middle of it. We are learning to make fire, and if we fail, we die.
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"What are you doing?" Saleh asked, grabbing the chicken wire fence from the outside, looking in.
"We," Gordon said from inside the cage. "Are learning to make fire." It took a while for the sentence to trickle through Saleh's head. He looked over to the creature that Gordon had named Eve. She was sat with her back turned away from the blazing campfire.
"Mission accomplished?" he said. Gordon looked confused, and glanced back to the fire they already had.
"Oh, no not real fire," he said. "She knows all about that. I'm talking about the fuel to civilisation. The spark." Gordon waved his arms around as he spoke, standing barefoot on the hilltop grass in his enormous cage. "Fire was our spark into civilisation, and we developed in a way only we could. But her?" he said, pointing with exaggeration to the creature. "She thinks differently to us. See now? She is completely uninterested in the fire. Any caveman would have been amazed." He turned and leaned back against the cage, admiring Eve. "No, fire isn't her spark. We're trying to find out what will work. What will fuel her civilisation, and how will it develop?"
"How long will that take?" Saleh asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets and giving a shiver as a wind blew over the hilltop.
"You can't estimate this kind of experimental science," Gordon replied.
"Your wife wants you home, you know." Saleh said. Gordon closed his eyes, and then looked to the ground and the grass stroking his bare feet.
"Tell her... two more weeks."
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Nice idea Gab, this was my attempt:
The group of students peered through the glass view-screen, leaning in around each other to watch closely. Clipboards and notepads where out, and the sound of styluses scratching across paper filled the brief silence.
“As you can see, or rather, as you are unable to see, the subatomic zeta particles are now forced into a vacuum.” Anton flicked the switch, metal contacts closing with a definite click. From inside the machine a bass hum rose. Accompanied moments later by small flashes of iridescent blue light.
With another click, a second switch was flipped, this time followed by a whining buzz. The blue sparks twisted and grew, spindles of shimmering ionised particles. “Now, with the ionisation at maximal potential, we can assume that all zeta particles have been energised.” Anton paused, his grey eyes set on the hand that had risen. He nodded curtly “Miss Karensa, I believe.”
She nodded, tapping a plastic stylus against her teeth “Professor, I fail to see what the benefits are of this test. What does it achieve?” Anton stepped away from the control panel, indicating the view-screen with a flourish. The blue sparks had dissipated, replaced by a cool pulsing light that filled the room. Thin layers of frost spread across the view screen, ice cracked and the student's collective breath rose like cold fog. Anton smiled, eyes twinkling gleefully “We, humanity, are learning to create cold fire...”
I've been reading Asimov's literature... I think It may have rubbed off :)