NaNoWriMo 2016

Post something from what you've written so far

looks stressful as fuck.
does anything remotely good ever come out of these?

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10KB, 466x323px

>>8699629

Taxes were collected despite the snow. Horren doubled over as it thickened, outlining his hood, his gloves, a rope that swung between himself and a child, her gloves, her hair. It settled across their short capes. Already Horren missed the fire that had warmed him an hour ago. Yet if he did not show up to collect the taxes, the people would say he was late, and they would refuse to pay him.

I gave up this year. Got caught up in too much stuff.

>>8699629
the little wooden box is simple. Since the wood came down here, my friend Will the Gepetto turned it into a box as a favor and wrote the word CIGaRETTES in big capital letters on it. The cigarettes are all different. short squat cigarettes rolled in factories, handrolled doobies with a bit of tobacco, menthols, cloves which smell like licorice. The only thing that's the same is that unless whoever smoked it was a drunk idiot, none of them have filters. The little plastic things are still up there, soaking into the ground. Some day couple thousand years from now, I imagine, it's just going to rain plastic tons of on our city. I wonder what the living would think if they knew that they were poluting their afterlife as well. I choose a black clove from the box and reach into my pocket for a match.

I feel the pair of pennies clatter next to the matches. I pull them out and hold them up to my eyes, one at a time. The classic picture of lincoln with "One Cent United States of america" inscribed on the back. The other is a blank disk. Same size as the penny, but completely unmarked except for the numbers 1909 inscribed where the date is on the other coin. The first penny has the same year listed. 1909. I put the coins back in my pocket and retrieve a match, lighting a cigarette and looking out at the rainy streets of the City Below.

>>8699629
“On my count” Began Samson “One... two... three!, Push now!” Samson pushed off his cup on the count of three, Alan stretched out his foot to hit the cup, but had began plummeting before he could, he saw the cup flying through the air and heard a smash, followed by an incredible dinging sound from Samson's flagon, he quickly braced and was throw around the flagon before being shout out shot out. Alan placed his arms and legs onto the floor and stopped himself, Samson's flagon had remained upright after the fall, and was pulled onto it's side by Alan's flagon, he flew out of the flagon, he tried to stop himself but collided into Alan, they both came to a stop near one of the legs of the grand table.

don't hit me

>>8699629

Big. Hairy. Balls. If you'd asked Marc why he would never return to the gym he was currently visiting, the answer would be these three simple words.

Big.

Hairy.

Balls.

Everywhere. Old men with big hairy balls, fat men with big hairy balls. Tall men, short men, white men, black men, all sorts of men walked around that locker room with their big hairy balls proudly exposed. There may come a day when Marc might reflect back on the experience and feel empowered by the lack of fear or shame present in that locker room, where any one can reveal their genitals without judgement. For now, his mind was not operating at that high of a level. No, instead all Marc could think about right now was how much he never wished to see another pair of big, sweaty balls.

>>8700734
Why were the last three words "big sweaty balls" and not "big hairy balls?"

>>8700740
fug.

>>8699585
3588

I'm writing a sci-fi
what tech should I write about next?

>>8701352
Pills that let men give birth to catboys by shitting them out of their assholes. The catboys grow to maturity in just one week.