• 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."
Every time I tell someone I’m a scriner, their eyes dance about my head and then try to peer into my pockets, looking for my funny hat.
As my mother used to say, it’s all fun and games until someone pokes an eye out, and then it’s just FUN.
There is nothing about this headache that a well-placed ball peen hammer between the eyes wouldn’t fix.
I shut the doors once more; the eyes were making me feel more than a little disconcerted.
One time I died and went to Heaven, my soul reborn as a perfectly round, beautiful piece of glass; unfortunately, a man who’d once ran with scissors as a kid found me, picked me up, and said, “So, you think you’re the right eye for the job?”
Suddenly she was worried that the eye tic was not just a sign of a strange neurological disorder, but proof that someone, late into the dark night, had stolen into her room and planted a bomb beneath her eyelid.
If eyes are the window to the soul, is it also true that that ears are the tent flaps to the id?
“Just a few scratches on the boy,” the doctor reassured Timmy’s mother, “nothing serious at all; but you might want to have his eyes examined, because he really should have seen that tortoise coming.”
After poking out his own dry eyes with a sharpened pencil, Simon swore that he could hear the sand pouring out for what seemed like hours, although in reality, the sand poured out for no longer than ten minutes, tops.
Speak to me only with thine eyes, and I - I will get my ears checked, ‘cause damn, it’s suddenly very quiet around here.
The ducks, with a slightly mad glint in their eyes, marched onward not looking to the left, not looking to the right - and not daring to look at Becky or the Tall Man who both, in their own ways made strange things happen - however, as they went by, I saw one sneak a peek at Henry.
Last year a small bird drowned in our pool and was discovered by one of my son’s friends as they all plunged into the water without looking; but I like this year’s retelling of the story much better than last year’s, because now the story includes not a small dead sparrow, but rather a three-foot, black crow floating straight-up in the water (“and I swear this part is true, Dad”) with dead eyes that won’t look away.
When the bank statements couldn’t be found, I felt my eyes turn into marbles and heard them as they fell and bounced across my desk, but of course, there was no way I could see this happen, although I sure would have liked to.
Regardless of how sexy they look, never draw attention to the agent’s red devil eyes
Looking more closely, I realized her blind eyes had been replaced by jewels.
Sometimes my dog cuddles up too close and I get some dogeye fluid in my eye and for about a half an hour everything looks like a tasty snack.
Copyright @ 2005 - 2017
161 queries in 0.7998 seconds