Your guide to all things important

What is Scrine?

• Scrine is the home of lost, forgotten, and lonely sentences.

What are the rules?

• 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.

Who can play?

• 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.

What about privacy?

• 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.

's notes

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."

Please Choose

Enjoy the Benefits!

  • Words, glorious words.

  • Bad puns and top-notch metaphors.

  • Free pancakes at participating restaurants.

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Scrine Restoration

Sentences: 100% (19120)
Comments: 11%

Confessional: 100%
Scrineblog: 18.4%

boot blog: 100%
'mouse blog: 0%

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unattainable :: boot

I sometimes marvel at my own words and wonder how I ever could have written them.

    TAGS:  writing, incredulity

When the girl glanced down at the sheet of paper lying across her feet, she could have sworn that she saw the words Do I detect the sweet playful fragrance of invisible elephant feet? written on the page in a wild, bold letter, half-cursive script, but then her focus was still blurred by tears and she was still a bit shaky from all the crying, which must, she later told herself, explain what happened next, because when she snatched up the paper to get a closer look those words were not there at all, there was nothing at all on the page about elephant feet, nothing about sweet fragrance, and certainly no question mark, which she was sure she had seen, but there was a different sentence on the paper, which she now read slowly, her incredulity growing with each passing word.

    TAGS:  elephant feet, incredulity, scrine historians, the lone sheet of paper


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