Home | Contest | Write A Book | Write Ebooks For Cash | Be A Travel Writer | Write Children's Books Write For Newspapers | Write An Ezine | Write A Blog | Writing Skills & Tips | Novel Writing Software Please take a moment to bookmark this site and join our free hot tips list. Read & Rate Our Writing Contest Entries! See what other people have written, and rate them on a scale of 1 to 5. This is an opportunity to view a wide variety of short stories and see what kind of original material is being submitted to us on a daily basis. After you rate an entry, you will be randomly redirected to another entry to rate. You may read and rate as many entries as you wish! The user-rating system is simply a fun way for writers to receive a public opinion of their work, and does not affect the judging for the cash prizes. If you wish to enter the contest, you may enter for free here. Rate This Contest Entry: Contest: June 30th, 2005 Author: Libby Jones Let me tell you a tale--a tale about a man and a woman so destined for perfection that you could taste life in the moon glow that shone down onto their bodies as they tangled into one. She was wild like a fire-red alley cat running rampant in the night. She could break hearts not only with the curiosity in her smile, but by the mere sashay of her walk. She was, in essence, the unattainable dream, the wild angel, but she was more dangerous than the dark purple clouds that spell doom above. She could steal your soul and disappear into the shadows before you even knew your life was missing. She was largely nocturnal, but threatening nonetheless--much as one would think a thief to be. But as permanent as her crimes may be, her actions were strangely legal. She was a felon with no felony, a competitor with no competition, a friend with few friendships, and a leader whose followers could never seem to keep up. She never met a challenge she didn't have a taste for. She was strong like the wind, sudden like the thunder, and louder than the silence that screams obscenities from every narrow crack that curses the sidewalk. She wasn't apathetic by choice, however; the blows from her childhood scarred more than her happiness. They scarred her mere existence and will to live. Her father's anger and the excuses that always followed forced her to shy away from human protection. She held no signs of arrogance or egocentrism, contrary to popular belief. Her aggression was often read as powerful, but she's never stopped running from the past. There are some mountains so majestic even brave men dare not approach. And him--he had a heart of gold, an honorable man. His charm was excitingly obvious but, like her, he ran free and answered only to his conscience. He was in love with another with every fiber of his being, but something drew him to her, this wild alley cat that touched him to his soul. It was easy to see that in his younger days, he must have stomped on more hearts than Patrick Swayze and Robert Redford combined, though he was completely unaware of each instance. You could compare him to a random freckle: dark and mysterious, but pleasing still. His power was admittedly a series of raging rapids. The world would stop turning at the very snap of his fingers. Show him an opportunity and he'd release his relentless determination for success. His desire stemmed not from a lack of consideration for others, but rather from the ticking time bomb embedded in his heart and his need to be with her. No man could tame her, and no woman, him. No woman that is until her. They came together only to feed off the resistance that slowly seeped from their skin. When she waltzed into the sports facility on that warm spring day, her thoughts were pure, no intentions of falling in love. To her, love was nothing more than a clever crook of desire, or may be even lust, the endlessly pursuit of men and women on their journey to find open hearts. She'd never let anyone sweep her off her feet--instead, she was running before they knew she was gone. It wasn't love at first sight or even one of those meant-to-be type of love stories. It was nothing more than a smile and a kind word; Cupid took it from there. And as the weeks went by, they placed themselves in each others' company more and more often. It was quite the opposite of everything they'd had before. This man of few words, he withdrew his defenses upon seeing the promising rays in her eyes. She rebuilt burnt bridges at the sound of his voice. She could feel him making love to her every time he let a laugh slip just a little too soon. He could read her like a book, but she struggled with his meaning like one might do with century-old poetry. When they finally fell in love, as though they'd never had before, the love they shared was made of white lace trust and leopard speed. How often do we see something more beautiful than bright yellow tulips against a cloudless summer sky? Yet it was a love against all odds and it was, at the very least, destined for destruction. For two dreamers cannot forever find complete satisfaction without drifting. To dream is to drift. To commit is to throw away your dreams in exchange for the stability that comes with the kept promise of two souls merging into one. And death only comes when one soul backs out of the deal. 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