Random Late Night Inspiration

  • The doorbell echoed throughout the usually quiet house. I peered out the front windows, but all I could see was the dark figure of a boy. Mom always said to never answer the door when it was a stranger… But my curiosity won out. Maybe it would be Philip finally coming to work on the science project that was due in three days. I slowly opened the door and…
  • It was him again. She would have recognized him anywhere now, especially after what he had done… The question was: what did he want this time?
  • I watched as the moon slowly turned from its usual milky white to a light bluish color. And I seemed to be the only one surprised by it…
  • Being absolutely terrible with any sort of human interaction, he shoved the flowers in her face silently, unsure of how else to present them. She looked surprised and even weirded out. He silently cursed himself. He knew this would never work. He had always known, but he couldn’t help but try, despite everything inside of him that told him not to. And then there was a glimmer of hope. She took the flowers, a slight blush beginning to show on her cheeks.
  • I hated it. I hated it all so much. Again and again and again it went in a never-ending vicious cycle. One of these days it was going to kill me, I could only hope that day would be very soon…
  • “Well… Um… Hm… Maybe… Maybe if you close one eye it’ll look different…? Or turn sideways…?”   “You disintegrated it completely! It’s a pile of ash, you idiot! It looks the same from every angle!”
  • Five guys, four seconds, three knives, two cameras, and one me… This should be fun…
  • And there they were again, the same as always. One would be carrying the bag and the other would be scoping out the street. They were so obvious it was painful… But even more painful was the excruciating fact that the police hadn’t even caught them yet… Perhaps they just needed a little help…
  • “Four?”   “Four.”   “Four?”   “Yes, four. That’s what I said.”   “B-but… four?”  “Yes!”   “Oh… Are you sure it wasn’t three?”   “It was four.”   “Four?”   “I’m going to kill you one of these days and make it look like an accident…”
  • The song was so soothing… So familiar… Comforting… And yet so sinister. It was no wonder I turned out like this. I began to wonder what he would think… Would he like me? He should. I was just like him after all. But maybe that would be why he would rather hate me more than anyone else… Might turn into a fun game of who-can-kill-the-other-first. Crazy versus crazy… The city wouldn’t even stand a chance.

Can you turn these into stories? Let me know! If anyone does, I’d like to hear what you came up with.

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