• Scrine is the home of lost, forgotten, and lonely sentences.
• Play nice. Be kind. Post only single sentences.
• Scrine gives everyone plenty of rope to play with, but reminds everyone that even the longest rope is capable of hanging a person.
• Censorship is ugly, but still not the ugliest bird in the sky. Happily, this has never been necessary.
• The appropriateness of all sentences will remain the sole discretion of Scrine's tender.
• Anyone. Reading along costs nothing but time.
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• With membership comes the unique privilege of calling yourself a Scriner.
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• The above sentence may be the only sentence on this site that is 100% true.
Use this space for notes and reminders to yourself.
This is a private space. Only you will see your notes.
Expiration date is not required, only if you want the note to magically disappear.
A great place to keep your fantastic ideas, like, "Hey! I need to write more sentences about crickets and English gentlemen with unruly beards."
Each day life ponies up one thing in consolation; for mouse, it is a mango, a papaya, or a drink involving a blender; for some perhaps a perfectly aligned set of pens or a well-struck guitar chord; for me, it is deliciously cool rice pudding with cinnamon and raisins.
Frazzled at her sass, ginger snapped and told the cinnamon to stick it.
Detectives Fennel and Caraway trampled the scene of the crime, tracking in the reddish brown cinnamon-like dirt through out the residence; “Dammit,” thought Paprika, “Another murder, another floor to clean.”
Cinnamon leant seductively against the wall, watching the passers-by sniff the air, bewildered and lost in memories of something loved and long gone.
Officer Wormwood announced to the vice unit, “Remember that nut, Meg—well, she’s hooked up with Cinnamon and Ginger and they’re hooking on 54th Street for the flashy pimp they call Punkin Pie.”
Officer Jones began setting up the sting when he heard rumors that Juan’s bakery was not only putting cinnamon in its coffee cake, but that it was doubling the amount called for in the banned recipes that were printed long before the dangerous psychoactive substance had been identified as a class 1 narcotic.
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