The Perfect Recipe

A/N: Yet another week, yet another story…



If there was one thing Jonas Svensson had always wanted then it had to be the perfect ham and cheese sandwich. His favourite moment from when he was a child had been when his mother made him one. Playing soccer with his friends, rescuing damsels in distress on his computer, eating candy, had all been less important than that first bite of a really good ham and cheese sandwich. But somehow, no matter how good his mother’s had been, there had never been quite the perfect balance between the bread, the cheese and the ham. It was, in Jonas humble opinion, the most important thing to consider when making a ham and cheese sandwich.

He grew up to be a web developer, because it had seemed like as good a job as any, and lived in an age of twenty-eight in a beautiful apartment, which had been equally beautifully furnished by his two sisters.

It wasn’t like he was obsessed or anything. He liked his job, and had quite a few hobbies. He liked building miniature airplanes and he was still a member of a soccer club. But his favourite hobby was still to experience in order to create the perfect ham and cheese sandwich.

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Happiness

A/N: Okay, my brain has basically been fried for the last couple of days. (I just finished my exams.) But now it’s working again, and it produced this little thing. Like or comment at the bottom of the text. Enjoy!



If there was one thing Marcie had always known it was that she wanted to be happy. Her mother wasn’t, she knew. Her father wasn’t either, though he liked to pretend to. Not that she saw much of him. He always seemed to be working. But sometimes he would be home and he would buy something shiny and new and expensive, and his eyes would shine with happiness, but after an hour or so they would dim once again, and the happy look in them would be gone.

Marcie’s mother, on the other hand, found her happiness at the bottom of a bottle. Her kind of happiness was even worse in Marcie‘s opinion. It would stay for about as long as her father’s, but afterwards her mother would moan and throw up and look miserable, and Marcie decided she didn’t want that kind of happiness either.

Sadly enough those two were the only ones she knew, so she would have to figure out her own kind of happiness first.

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Isabella

A/N: Another short story! Yeah!

I wonder, who do you guys think are the real you? The one you’re acting like, or the one you feel you have hidden away inside of you? 


Jessie Pitcher had never had a particularly daring life. She had gone directly from high school to college, where she had studied economics. Sure, in college she had gone to a party or two, but she had kind of just been standing at the edge of the party looking in, rather than really being a part of it. She had tried alcohol, but the only time she’d been really pissed a friend of hers had walked her to her dorm and put her to bed. Nothing had happened. She had been too scared, too smart, to try any kind of drugs or even just cigarettes, and when she left college four years later she’d been drunk once, missed a class twice and gone to a party eight times. None of it – the alcohol, the skipping classes, the parties – had been particularly thrilling experiences.

After college she had landed a job as an accountant. The money was good, and she was able to put a bit aside every month despite having to pay off her student’s loan. She got a pleasant two-bedroom apartment in the nicer part of the city, and was able to live of something besides pasta for a change. She never travelled. She never took any of the courses at the local night school she always wanted to try. She never… well, she never really did anything. Until the day she decided that she had to.

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The Little Girl, Who Never Grew Up

A/N: A short story, where I had a lot of trouble deciding on the ending – so let me know what you think!


Once upon a time there was a couple, who seemed to have everything. They were a handsome couple with a good income, and a charismatic personality. They were the perfect image of what a couple was supposed to be like, and this image only became more perfect when they had a perfect little girl.

The little girl was named Lucy, and she was in her parents’ eyes the most perfect little girl there had ever existed. She truly was a beautiful child with her lithe build and heart-shaped face, her rosy lips and her doe-brown eyes. She was a beautiful little girl and people would often comment on this.

Oh, what a beautiful little girl,” they would say. “She’s the prettiest little girl I have ever seen. If only she were to stay that way forever.”

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2384

A/N: My first finished SF! Ever! I wanted to try something new, so I hope the result is acceptable! Enjoy!


It was the year of 2384, and there had just been yet another election. Yet another choice of leader.

Elisa Parker, a generally average citizen, had always considered herself to be sensibly skeptical of everything that simply seemed too good to be true, so when Bernard Summer had first started appearing as a candidate as the successive Head of State, she hadn’t believed his lies.

He promised to end corruption, to close the huge gap between the rich and the poor, to not let the wealthy make the decisions in his place. He promised that anyone should have free health care, and Elisa had looked down on her missing arm with a cynical smile; a souvenir from an explosion in the laboratory. She had been supposed to get a prosthesis, but for reasons she was never truly explained, that had simply never happened.

Summer promised that those kinds of things would never happen under his reign. That anyone should have access to decent health care as well as a decent standard of living. The same old promises, which every candidate came with.

But when Summer actually won the election, something most unusual happened. He kept his promises.

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Missing Out

A/N: There’s nothing wrong with working hard. But there is most definitely such a thing as working to hard! 


“Andy, come down, it’s your grandfather’s birthday and you’re missing it.”

It was her mother’s voice, soft and relaxed, and Andrea sighed in annoyance. She knew it was her grandfather’s birthday and of course she wanted to celebrate with him, but last Wednesday had been her older brother’s birthday, and the Sunday before that had been mother’s day. Then there had been her parent’s anniversary, her grandmother’s get-together and the barbecue her father always made such a big deal. It seemed like her parents just didn’t understand she didn’t have time for such frivolous activities.

“Coming,” she yelled back; knowing fully well that her voice wasn’t as relaxed as her mother’s had been. Now or ever.

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Over the Graveyard, Original Vs. Edited

A/N: Okay, this weeks post is about editing! Me editing someone else’s first draft.

First of we have the original version, but if you’re not interested in that, you can just skip it. If not, please comment and let me know if you agree with my changes!


Original Version

AWESOME TITLE GOES HERE

The wind howled through the trees, the rain whipped the ground, and the darkness had swallowed the forest like an angry giant from ancient times past, rolling in along with the thin, crescent moon to cover all the land in deep ink. Somewhere not far from here was the graveyard, where cracked headstones reached out of the ground like broken teeth biting at the sky, covered in moss and rot; names barely readable after so many years of neglect. No one remembered who rested there; everyone had forgotten. Even the priest, who didn’t even seem to care. The church tended to the new graves alright, but not the old ones. It seemed no one cared about those. It was a shame: when we forget the dead simply because we did not know them personally, when we pretend the distant past matters less than the recent past, we lose part of ourselves. We must remember if we want to have a chance to improve ourselves. This is true for all humans, everywhere: In this matter, we are one.

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Halloween Special, 2015!

A/N:

Hi everyone! Here’s a holiday special for all you guys! Just in case you want to get into the right halloween mood! So enjoy, and look forward to Christmas, which will have a far more humorous tone 🙂

Mother

The hallway was dark and silent as Molly slowly made her way through it. She’d had the most horrendous nightmare. Probably because of the mountains of sweets she’d consumed despite her fathers teasing that she was really getting too old to use Halloween as an excuse. She’d merely stuck her tongue out and told him sixteen was hardly old. She’d eat as many sweets as she pleased.

Now, however, she regretted doing so. She had trouble shaking the nightmare off, and discovering the light had gone out hadn’t helped. It was with a baited breath she felt her way through the hallway; a sigh of relief escaping as she finally made it to the safety of the kitchen.

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Due Tuesday

As Thomas O’Connell sat with a cup of steaming Earl Grey, and the Sunday Newspaper spread out in front of him; he knew that life had been good to him. Him and his wife Sarah had met when he was but twenty-two and had married a year later. They had been married for just over fifty years, and he still found her as beautiful and kind as when he’d first laid eyes upon her.

They’d gotten three equally beautiful children, who had each gone out and been successful in their own way – Riley as a mother of three, Sam as an environmental lawyer and Tobias as a pilot.

It was just a few years back Thomas quit his job as an architect, which he had loved, and they had enjoyed their golden years ever since.

Yes; life was good when your name was Thomas O’Connell.

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