• 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.
• Membership is required to post your own sentences. Joining is quick and painless.
• With membership comes the unique privilege of calling yourself a Scriner.
• Your information will never be sold, given away, shared, or even traded for an unimaginably delicious slice of pie.
• 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."
If there is any hope of knowing what’s on the other side, I’ve decided that I better find some time to walk both paths, both honesty and lying, both less traveled and more traveled, so that when I do eventually stumble out onto the other side and get to wherever it is I’m going, I’ll recognize truth for what it really is, and that it won’t sneak up on me during some desperate moment and end up looking like an outhouse in the middle of nowhere, with a crescent moon on the door and a fresh roll of toilet paper stuck on a nail; and that when it’s all over yet again and again and again, I won’t be caught standing there lost, hopeful for something better than my own shit staring back at me.
Bile rose in his throat as he examined his girlfriend’s latest expensive Sculptural Acquisition: a six-foot bronze casting of “Aristotle Contemplating the Bust of SpongeBob.”
When it’s all said and done, I’ll miss these mornings drifting in and out of sleep and dreams, the house perfectly quiet, birds singing just outside and the fresh, cool, early spring air blowing in through the open window just over my head.
As Bronwyn contemplated the ever-speedier passage of time, she thought of three moments of her life when she was not as careful as she should have been, and was shocked to realize that, had things worked out differently, she would today be the parent of a 19-year-old, a 17-year-old and a 14-year-old.
I contemplated my navel for years and all I got to show for it was this piece of belly button lint.
I contemplate the spiraling vortices of smoke rings, watch them twirl off when I exhale the last - they dance with the curls of your well-done hair.
Copyright @ 2005 - 2017
141 queries in 0.6672 seconds