who /prose/ here? He was old and he sat on a bench seat As

Cmon and post your prose you lovely bastards

No writers on /lit/? What a surprise.

Not prose

>>8430866
Still the best prose on this board apparently. Don't see any other entries.

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The little boy had not shit before, but knew that it was expected of him before the elders considered him a man. He had spent his entire life up to this point, 17 name days, excreting his feces the way most children did. Through his sweat glands. But the easy days of shit tinted skin gloss would soon be over. He was about to become a man. He had to shit the way a man was expected to. Through his arsehole.

He understood the mechanics of the whole thing. He knew logically, that all he had to do was keep the waste together in one spot, in his stomach and bowels. Eventually enough would gather so that he would be able to shit it out of his arsehole as a solid piece, or pieces if some of the stories were true, of shit.

"Please let it be solid." he prayed to the old gods and the new. Although a liquid shit from the arsehole wasn't strictly speaking against the rules, it was never considered a manly shit. Especially not as one's first adult shit.

It was now or never. And the elders were growing impatient. The boy climbed the 33 steps to the top of the toilet cathedral. In 200 years, the design hadn't changed much. 33 steps leading to the top of an enormous glass cube. On top of the cube was a toilet. The cube itself was filled with a clear liquid gel, sensors, and current controls. These would all work together, so that when the shit was released from the arsehole, it would be positioned by the currents to the center of the liquid, so the elders could examine it from all sides.

He climbed the 33 steps and slowly walked to the toilet. He tried to ignore the stern looks from the elders. The high priest, his father and mother, the sineater, the butcher, and the accountant were all there, and were all wearing very serious faces at this moment.

He pulled down his britches and underpants and sat on the toilet. He had made sure to eat a hearty breakfast. Blood sausage, hashbrowns, hotcakes, and just a bit of coffee to help the shit flow through. He had even swallowed a shotglass full of corn, just to add a little flare to what he hoped would be his first adult shit. And he had eggs. Although they were queer eggs now that he thought of it. They tasted funny.

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>>8431118
2/2
But now he was ready. He felt the shit build inside him, and it came out feeling like a fart at first. "Oh no, " he thought, "is that it? Just a fart?". But the fear was brief, because after another fart he could feel matter exit his arsehole. Solid matter. His first adult shit had not even finished, but he was grinning with pride and looked down at the elders. They were all smiles, and his log was not even completely out yet. But then their faces started to change.

His mother shrieked, and looked away her face in her hands. His father yelled, "No, no, noooooooo!!". The high priest looked utterly confused, and the sineater was clawing at his own face, tears mixed with blood. The boy had a sick feeling, but he had to know what was wrong with his shite.

He looked below the glass top of the cube. He saw what had horrified the elders. SPiders. Thousands and thousands of spiders. They were bursting through his shit log, filling the tank. There were more spiders than fecal matter. Like a legion of spiders, with just a mist of shit to mark that there had ever been a shit in the first place.

The queer eggs! They were spider eggs! The boy had eaten spider eggs, and in turn the spiders had hatched and were eating his shit.

And the boy? The boy did not become a man that day.

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Anonymous 08/22/16(Mon)14:48:33 No.8425100 Archived▶>>8425108
floating just below the enclave, the skeletal figure whispered the unheard meaning of life from under the digital waterfall.
If this makes no sense, consider that meaning is meaningless for everyone but the meaner.
is writing the answer?
is the learned meaninglessness of life not wisdom, but defeat? does childhood understanding give way to adult egotistical delusion? adults get lazy.
the child has infinite energy and minimal imprinted patterns that enables him to constantly question and learn.
the lazy adult deems the pursuit of knowledge a childish endeavour and alocates his comparatively meager willpower to toying with ephemeral "adult" minutinae.
giving up "delusions" of staying in the center light the adult has long since set out on but one path out of the infinite.
is everything cliche? am i writing this for validation? am i too hard on myself?
are the rocks of stability we cling to floating in the ocean of uncertainty same as us?
the winding road of life leads quickly to death
obfuscation is imperative
insanity is imposssible
WHAT IS THE MEANING
there obviously is none
WHAT CAN BE DONE WITH THIS INFORMATION
nothing really

>>8431154
pretty decent, keep em coming, fellas.