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Appleman, apples, cats, donuts, sarcasm, wizards (kind & fine), and WHATEVER part 4


Yoppappop

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Thanks, Rose!

 

Yup, that's the end. If you figure out who Helen is you have the rest of the story anyway. :thumb_yello:

 

Actually, I'm really unhappy with the last line because it doesn't make it clear enough who Helen is, or that it's the end of the story. So I welcome suggestions to make it clearer and more final-like.

 

--Jack

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Maybe the father could repeat her name, as though she's reluctant to come? Or she could refuse to go because she's afraid, and his face softens and he says, 'Oh, my beautiful [for want of a better word] Helen, do not fear.' Or something like that.

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Well, let's say I'm very dense (ie I didn't twig that the pic was related to the story, i just thought it was a nice pic) OR we can blame the Australian education system where the compulsory study of history was ALMOST non-existent when I was at school and my own lack of interest in it a as a school subject meant that I didn't study it as an elective.

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If I may please share a lovely image for my lovely cat friends on this thread.

 

Forget about getting a Mika or Apple tattoo to symbolize our bond....this one is simply much more...um...unique.....

cat.jpg

:roftl:

When they show off their brown eye, it means they trust you!

 

Hi Apples!

How are you all? Have I missed something over the last few days? Possibly not . I was caught in real life and it was great I went to see Bon Jovi last Thursday. I never dreamt of ending up front row at a Bon Jovi show . Ok, it wasn't really front row and far from the centre but it was great. At one point he was standing almost right in front of me . I'm going to see them again next Tuesday. And this time the batteries of my camera will be FULL! Ok, enough drooling over elderly (incredibly hot) men .

Are we official yet?

See you.

:shocked:

I love Bon Jovi!!!

Jon's incredibly HOT!

 

Glad you enjoyed Bon Jovi. I was more or less front row at one of their concerts but that was 20 years ago. I keep meaning to scan my pics because they are a bit naughty. You see pop stars weren't so shy about showing their wares in their tight jeans in those days.

Scan PLEASE!!! :das:

 

If you really think about it though, the possibilities are endless - it didn't have to be a picture of a cat.

*Goes back to work*

Photoshop Kelz?

Trouble makers!

Hey look!

marilynbanane.jpg

Even Marilyn was into fruits

I love Marilyn.

Thanks, Rose!

 

Yup, that's the end. If you figure out who Helen is you have the rest of the story anyway.

Actually, I'm really unhappy with the last line because it doesn't make it clear enough who Helen is, or that it's the end of the story. So I welcome suggestions to make it clearer and more final-like.

 

--Jack

Jack! I love it! And she was Helen of Sparta at that point so perhaps you could make mention her stepfather (father) was looking nervously out of a window at Sparta then turns to her to say what you've already written..

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Thanks! :blush-anim-cl: I'm glad you all like it and aren't all, "wtf does this have to do with anything?"

 

Or maybe you're just being polite. :naughty:

 

--Jack

 

I'm reasonably sure the rest of the apples don't do "polite", but since I'm not an apple but merely an Aussie, I will assure you I wasn't being polite. I really enjoyed it and since it turns out that you've apparently written stuff before, could you point me in the direction of previous works? Or does that entail too much tracking back through threads?....

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Yeah, nah.. I suck at being polite. :naughty:

It was an awesome read!

:bow:

 

:shocked:What are you telling me? All this time on the Aussie thread, never a cross word spoken, never a sarcastic comeback! Can you possibly be the same girl?:naughty:

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I'm reasonably sure the rest of the apples don't do "polite", but since I'm not an apple but merely an Aussie, I will assure you I wasn't being polite. I really enjoyed it and since it turns out that you've apparently written stuff before, could you point me in the direction of previous works? Or does that entail too much tracking back through threads?....

 

Oh thanks, not at all! If you have me on your Myspace friends (or if you look up my myspace in my profile), I put up my writing as blog entries.

 

Right now it has some short drabble pieces, and several of the longer stories I've posted here (it's best to read them in the order they were posted though). This one will go up soon as I perfect the ending. :thumb_yello:

 

--Jack

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Oh thanks, not at all! If you have me on your Myspace friends (or if you look up my myspace in my profile), I put up my writing as blog entries.

 

Right now it has some short drabble pieces, and several of the longer stories I've posted here (it's best to read them in the order they were posted though). This one will go up soon as I perfect the ending. :thumb_yello:

 

--Jack

 

Cool. I don't think we're myspace friends... Is your name JackViolet over there too?

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:shocked:What are you telling me? All this time on the Aussie thread, never a cross word spoken, never a sarcastic comeback! Can you possibly be the same girl?:naughty:

hahahah!! Bitch :mf_rosetinted:

:naughty:

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It's so suspenseful Jack....I need more!

 

You can't have more, that's the end. :bleh: Um, she goes to marry Menelaus, then runs away from him with Paris and causes the fall of Troy? :naughty:

 

Chickadee, I sent you a friend request!

 

--Jack

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You can't have more, that's the end. :bleh: Um, she goes to marry Menelaus, then runs away from him with Paris and causes the fall of Troy? :naughty:

 

Chickadee, I sent you a friend request!

 

--Jack

 

Thankyou! *goes to look*

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Welcome back Haeschen! I hope no one gets that cat tattooed...

 

Um. I wrote another short story vignette. I'm posting it here 'cause... uh... I have nothing else to post. Sorry.

 

------------------------------------------

 

 

There were never any mirrors in our house.

 

Ever since I can remember, I was taught to hide my face from strangers. It was because of a prophecy, my parents told me. They never wanted to talk much about it, and I learned not to ask, just as I learned to never leave my rooms without my head covered.

 

Even going down to the baths, I had to wear a blindfold. That I did not mind, but I envied my sisters, who could refresh themselves in the waters of Eurotas on hot summer days and play with the village boys. I was never allowed out of the palace by myself, and never anywhere where I could see my reflection or where there was a chance I’d lose my veil.

 

Left alone, I would touch my face and trace the bones, trying to discover what it was that set me apart. I had never even seen the color of my eyes, and as I passed my fingers over my skin, I would wonder what else it was I did not know.

 

My father called it my fate. My mother called it my curse. They would argue about me, late at night.

 

My older sisters were all very beautiful. All my mother would tell me was that I was not like them. She would frown slightly when she saw me uncovered, and turn away. Her frown deepened every year: apparently, my curse increased with my age.

 

My parents would argue more and more as it became time for my sisters to get married. I was hidden away when their suitors came, forbidden from even attending the engagement feast. “Not until the wedding takes place,” my mother told me. “We can’t risk it before then.”

 

But they could not risk it even after. After all, then my next oldest sister had to be married off, and I was still a liability. My brothers snuck me some of the wedding supper into my chamber, and I celebrated my sisters’ marriage alone in the dark. Not even my brothers would stay near me by themselves for any long while.

 

Then all my sisters were married, and I was eighteen. My parents came to my chamber on the morning of my birthday, with pale faces and nervous eyes. I should be married too, and they had called me a number of suitors they said. They dressed me in a chiton of rich cloth, bound my hair, clasped the jewelled sandals around my feet. My mother looked like she was preparing me for my funeral. She held me to her breast when she was done, tracing my face as I had done so many times, and with such a look of dread, that I closed my eyes lest I catch a glimpse of my reflection in her own. My curiosity had long ago been replaced by fear. I reached for my veil, but she stopped my hand.

 

“It’s all right, now. You can go down as you are.” I did not know how to reply. Stepping out my doorway without the customary veil, my face felt naked and raw with nothing to shield it but the fluttering of my hair. I stopped in painful hesitation, unable to take the next step.

 

“Come, Helen,” my father said. “Remember you are a Princess of Sparta. Your suitors are waiting.”

 

------------------------------

------------------------------

 

Helen-of-Troy-Print-C12180745.jpeg

 

--Jack

 

what the f*ck does this have to do with anyting ? :blink::thumbdown: i'd rather talk about tatooed cats's asshole...

yeah... i just had to say it... haven't read the story yet... can't melt into compliments :biggrin2:

 

 

btw, i'm officially free and Dr Yop in 1 week and 40 minutes :ap_rosetinted:

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what the f*ck does this have to do with anyting ? :blink::thumbdown: i'd rather talk about tatooed cats's asshole...

yeah... i just had to say it... haven't read the story yet... can't melt into compliments :biggrin2:

 

 

btw, i'm officially free and Dr Yop in 1 week and 40 minutes :ap_rosetinted:

 

:roftl:

 

Jaaack! Why did you have to be such a talented, creative writer who posts an amazing vignette right after I post the most tasteless photo of a beer belly cat tattoo of an arsehole?!

:thumbdown:

 

But thanks for your support Yop.

 

:naughty:

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