%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Prose >> Contest >> ID #329877 |   |
| |||||||||||||
|
Only one month had passed since he found the pen, yet it seemed lighter and about to run out. This pen was magical, like no other. The words it contained, straight from his heart, the beauty of its poetry, borrowed from God. Dear God, two more words, he prayed, as it dried on, “The End.”
© Copyright 2002 PRD (UN: demelopr at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
PRD has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
 Log In To Leave Feedback |
Static Items
Books
Forums
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
