http://www.writerscafe.org/ScarfKid The original writings of author Kenny Pomaski en-us Copyright 2013 Aresta Enterprise LLC 1369079082 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Three men are forced to confront their violent pasts every seven years. How long can they hold out as age slowly cripples them? http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/761712/ Seven Year Witchby Kenny Pomaski　Hoveless walked inside, spotted me, and walked over. I'd been sitting for about twenty minutes. He wasn't late. I just cater to being early.He was dressed in a black suit, white shirt tucked and a thin black tie just touching his belly. Same outfit a.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/758986/ 18            Roarsch ran through the halls, his feet bare and his robes and scarf discarded. He didn't care, and he cared even less for the many eyes following him.            Slamming .. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757440/ 17            Rose stood beside the lake, where Tristian had laid asleep earlier, the tips of her toes just off the grassy shore, dangling comfortably atop the cool water. Night winds descended from the mountains surrounding the Academy, their.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757438/ 16            I felt the water rolling over my eyelids, and opened them, fast and wide.            There was nothing.            .. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757437/ 15            Acai sat nervously as Anber and Vice eyed him expectantly, dissecting him, waiting.            He'd come back only once to update his mentor on his doings, which was many y.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757436/ 14            It was odd that the twins had decided to become mercenaries. Very odd even. That said, it was even odder that a Magi should turn into a thief, which was exactly what Junpei was and ever wanted to be.    &nbs.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757435/ 13            The Academy was lively in it's own curious way. The main building, with the thick, polished peak that stretched far into the sky and cased a slab of shade over Lamberdine each and every evening, was very much packed with the vari.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757434/ 12            For a traveler, Lamberdine must seem like a broken puzzle. The streets seem to always end in an "L" and the alley's and paths between the streets and rivers are usually misinterpreted as just gaps, not direction. Not a single str.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757432/ Part 2: A Day of Shatter 11            Collapsing on the stool, my eyes unresponsive and my head a damn circus, a long groan escaped before ordering; "Coffee, Minna. And sew those awful curtains."      .. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757431/ 10            Outside, Acai whirled and ran with an unlit cigarette bouncing and sliding elegantly between the gaps in his fingers, and in his other hand was a mug of beer, spilling freely during his tumulus maneuvers on the abandoned street. .. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757430/ 9            There was something amiss in Lamberdine, something dangerous. He'd felt it for a long while, sensed it prowling right beside him, and yet he could not discover what it was.         &n.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757429/ 8            "Isn’t it beautiful?"            "More then the world."            Katdja and Acai stood beside the table, sta.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757427/ 7            The moment the driver had handed me the payment, the sweat dried up behind my glee.            With the hefty pouch of valuable coin bouncing gingerly in my palm, I waited f.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757426/ 6            When the driver caught sight of me, he paused, and then suddenly grew increasingly nervous. In the dark, he couldn't make out who I was, and, somewhere in his cautious mind, he begun to fear the worst; a mugger, a drunk, a trouble.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757425/ 5            Elex watched Tristian move across the street to where the coach awaited, the excitement and pleasure sufficiently drowned from his form as he returned to his role as "leader." He was more then okay with Tristian being the symbol o.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757424/ 4            "The Counselor is outside."            "You two talk?" I ask, knowing very well that Elex would never say a word to that man, or any of the Lamberdine politicians. &n.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757423/ 3            Katdja's roar brought about a universal howl from both Acai and the many patrons of Ariel's, and in it I made my escape. Stepping carefully around a table of lob-sided men, I moved to the corner where Anber sat, pensive and quiet... http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757421/ 2                        "Tristian! Minna doesn't believe me. Tell her!"            Leaning against the counter, Katdja was already.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757420/ Part 1: Welcome Home 1            The basket settled gently, subtly bouncing only once as it nestled atop the dampening grass, sliding casually until coming to a passive halt.         &nb.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757419/ Prologue            The balloon descended slowly, quietly dropping from atop the North peaks and seemingly absorbing the beautiful portrait that was Lamberdine. The sun was falling in line with us, casting a thick sheen of fading pink-orange a.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757418/ Month long Novel (June 2nd - July 2nd). Political fantasy. Unfinished and currently pushed aside. This was written for practice at novel writing, and it was certainly a long month. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/757417/ A short stageplay ripe with overt dramatics and audience-directed theatrics. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/731718/ A more "real" version of what happens in Mario, with Peach always in trouble, and Mario always coming to help. Just a fan-fiction. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/689352/ In the likeness of Carver, this was supposed to be. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/676981/ My various assignments from my CW class of Fall 2010 http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/676979/ Every night, I walk. Every night, I return. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/597060/ The blade fell, the backdrop of collapsing heaven illuminating the vile, stenched sword as it thrust toward me. I did not turn, nor cringe; from my knees, I would receive my failure without regret, watching from behind my helm my final moment. The blade suddenly twisted, away from my stomach, thoug.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/593577/ There is nothing stronger than trauma and regret. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/588573/ Wanted to write something overtly symbological. Take a guess, if you will. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/551679/ Watching the Grinch again twelve years later and a certain picture by some artist in some art book I don't remember inspired this. I will post their name and the picture when I remember... http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/532402/ A journal entry that, with other literature influences, I foolishly tried turning into a story that sort of spiraled out into this sort of mad-scribbling that I don't want in word so 365 it is. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/524718/ Drunk once again, and, two years later, I still can't stop thinking about you. I need help, but not from them; from you. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/499359/ Heartbreak is never simple, and forgiveness does not come easily. Not even when it is delivered to you after so many tears. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/492594/ An entire night spent looking at pictures of pancakes on Deviant Art. Figured I might as well type a story since I can't write anything productive. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/476177/ Hand written yesterday, typed today. No good literature-wise, but I wanted to experiment with multiple themes. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/457760/ I can't seem to get back into story writing. It feels like my imagination has died... http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/449506/ Just another emotional-therapeutic type story where there is no literary quality. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/444292/ Just thinking that I'm beginning to get rhetorical http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/442723/ Observation at work the other day. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/382297/ Happened tonight. I'm drunk, and depressed. No literary talent here. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/382296/ Not really 365. I decided when I can't write on a current project, I'll write something 500 words or more just to keep busy and writing. Read these, or don't. Just for discipline mostly. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/380884/ My 2008 stories I posted on Writers Cafe http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/373021/ This is a segment of a novel project I am working on. I edited/shortened the ending to make it sort of work for just reading as a short story, though even I know the ending is a bit weak. This is my mood. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/341508/ Flash Fiction; Justice is perspective, is it not? http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/293905/ My therapist said to write something that explained how I am with receiving advice. I told her I was stubborn, and usually when I took advice it ended up blowing up in my face. And yet, she persisted, so I wrote this. I didn't edit it, nor do I think it's http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/280723/ Were all sinking in one way, some the literal. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/259292/ An unexplained apocalpse story. Figure it out. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/245659/ A long, annoyingly symbolic story that I want to post just to have something up. It's garbage, it's 1st draft, but I promised something for tonight. Be brutal, I don't care. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/ScarfKid/218335/