?

Log in

 
 
30 October 2009 @ 01:44 pm
Masterlist: One-liners Prompts  
Sometimes I write short dialogue exchanges which aren't set in any sort of story or with any specific characters in mind, although they do have a very specific context in my mind. Perhaps some of these exchanges will find their way into a story, or give way to one.

"You know how some jokes get old and some never do?"
"Yeah?"
"That joke was born old."

"It's so easy to make yourself bleed sometimes."

Collapsed on the ground like a broken lawn chair.

The distance between them could have housed Cthulhu (and a whole retunue of Shoggoths).

A depression so deep it may have been R'lyeh.

The Cair Paravel of my heart.

It was a hell of a time to cry / quit / break.

We were swaying to the music so slowly it was like floating in the ocean.

She pushed her glasses up, her knuckles brushing her cheek.
“D’you hear what I said, luv? About the ticket?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I heard. One-way.”

"Well, don't I have the luck of a drowning weasel..." (Originally, "If I didn't have the luck of a drowning weasel...")

"Will you just sit down? Christ, I'm nervous enough just watching you pacing about with that thing in the air."

"As if you've never wanted to douse something in petrol before."

"Listen, I'm going to go outside and be sick all over the pavement. If you really want to come along, I can't stop you, but I'd rather you didn't."

"You're tap-dancing on a mine-field, mate. I'd shut up if I were you."

"You know how they say, 'cold as a witch's teat'? What d'you say when it's dry weather?"
"What, like, 'dry as a witch's cunt'?"
"Yeah."
"Wouldn't they be more of the wet variety? All that prancing about with the devil 'n' all?"

"You so much as squeak a word of this to anyone, and I'll stuff eels down your trousers. Electric eels. Hungry, too."

"Might as well trust the devil as trust him."

"I am a woman," she said. "Multi-tasking is my nature."

"It's horses that calm down when you bite their ear," she whispered, "not women."

She'd never been to one of these before. She didn't know anyone - except the famous ones, but that didn't make a shy girl any more at ease.

"Yes, but..." (s)he hesitated, "I loved you first." It was a childish plea, a simple way to blame.

The gods like to play. They like things that burn, they like sharp things, they like hiding things you need, taking things you want, keeping things you would you have never given. [They only give what you cannot bear, be it in form or quantity.] They keep you places you don’t want to be in and tell you things you don’t want to know, and charge you with keeping their secrets. [The gods are at play.]

The fields are green with the absence of men.

“How can you say that? That won’t make it/this better.”
“But...nothing will make this better. Isn’t that what you said?”

I don’t want. I need, but I don’t want. (Or: I don’t want to. I need to, need it, but I don’t ever want to.)

"Shh," she whispered as she comforted him in her arms. "Don’t make me hate you. Not now. Not after this.

It’ll go. It’ll fade. It’ll go…and I’ll be clean again.

If it walks like a cat but talks like a lamb, would the lambs trust it?
Born of one, raised by the other. (Or: Born one thing, raised another.)

“There is no prize for attempted humour.”

“I didn’t lie. I just never told.”

He sat at the bar by himself, as lonely as an unrequited lover.

“Tough shit, ducky”.

“I might be a virgin but I’m not stupid.”

“You don’t have to say it.”
“It’s alright. I don’t mind.”
“No, honest, you don’t.”

“I don’t think I’d mind very much if I never saw you again.”

“…fuck me before you go?”

“Just because I’m not the one who has to do it doesn’t mean I don’t worry.”

Four words were written on the postcard, almost but not quite the trite traditional sentence one often saw on scrawled on the back: “Wish I were there.”

“Stop looking at me like I’m walking around in my underwear.”
“You are.”
“Only in your head, darling. Only there.”

“Listen, there’s something you should know.”
“No.”
“You really need to-”
“Tell me later.”
“After?”
“Yes.”

“What did you think would happen?”
“I don’t know. Something else. Anything else.”
“Well, it’s done and this is the end result. You can’t take it back, sister.”

“You know, I hadn’t thought about that day in the longest time.”
“Why not? I thought you’d said it was, I don’t know… ‘Significant in every way,’ I think were your words.”

“I’d forgotten all about that.”
“Him? Or the love-affair?”
“All of it. Amazing, isn’t it? That something so important, that had once been your whole world, could be so easily forgotten.”
“Even the deepest scars fade.”
“If you live long enough.”
“Right. If you live long enough.”

“Quit your snivelling, sweetheart. You’ve gone and fucked up good, but that’s no reason to whine.”

“Would you leave if I asked you to?”
“Yes. But I know you won’t.”
“I might.”
“You’d have to change a hell of a lot to do so.”

“I used to know you so well. I’d be able to anticipate everything, every reaction, every smile, everything you’d feel or do, as if it were me.”
“Maybe I’ve changed.”
“Maybe I have.”

“I didn’t lie. At least, I don’t think I did. I believed it when I said it.”
“But you knew, didn’t you? Somewhere, you knew that you’d change.”
“It was inevitable.”

“Are you ok? Is everything alright?”
“I’m crying my eyes out in a public space; of course everything’s not alright. Sorry. I’m petulant when crying my eyes out in a public space. And repetitive. Sorry again.”

“What’s the point of my knowing poems if I’ve got no one to say them to?”
“You’ve got me.”
“You wouldn’t like them”

“Where have you been all day?”
“Walking.”
“Just walking?”
“Roaming, then, and thinking. Or trying not to. It still hurts to think about them much. But I remember them. Every waking moment I am shrouded by their ghosts.”
“The morning sun burns away the night’s dew.”
“Where’s that from?”
“Nowhere. Just seemed like the thing to say.”

“I’ve been thinking in a foreign language all day. I’ve never felt like such a stranger in my own head.”

“Come share my bed and dream with me.”

"One day I'm gonna crack, and I'll splatter all over the goddamn wall. I won't even care if there's anyone to clean up the mess."

"Keep her safe, sane - and sober."
"It'll be hard to do that last one, sarge."