Kent Babin on Warpcast

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Kent Babin pfp

Let's play a little fiction writing game. I'll give a prompt, you write the opening paragraph of the story. Character X moves to a new country to escape their past, only to find that their past keeps catching up with them. (You can choose any genre, plot direction, setting, character(s), etc.)

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@polluterofminds

Is it considered a move when you’re riding in the back of Toyota Camry beneath a false rear seat? Gloria didn’t know, and she didn’t care, but when the leasing agent asked her when she’d move from to Arizona, she just said, “Last year.” The apartment was the last step in her reconstruction. The man she’d paid a month ago provided her what she needed to rent this place. At least that’s what she’d told herself. It had to work. She handed over the driver’s license which had her birthdate three years later than hers actually was. She handed over the lease agreement with a social security number that belonged to some lady in Montana. She handed over the check from a bank account she opened with those same false documents the other day. And she forced herself to breathe normally. The leasing agent smiled and took everything as the office door opened. Two men walked in. One was the man who had done her papers. The other was the person who forced her to need those papers in the first place.

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"it's hard to explain. my name isn't jenny anymore, it's justine." "oh...ok, that's cool. i'll change your name on my phone." jenny-now-justine wished that emily had asked her more questions, even though technically she's escaping her past. sure, it made for a less awkward conversation. but sometimes, justine wishes someone would ask her why. instead, she'll move on, learning how to steer conversations away when others start to pry. she'll become an over-sharer of her life online even, to distract others from her forced secrets. 20 odd years later, she finds herself shallow breathing, squinting thru tears as she "jokingly' responds to her friend's writing prompt about a hidden past. maybe this time, she gets to let her past catch up to her, and she can stop running.

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@markmcclure.eth

The temple bell rang six times. Alexander brushed the last of the fallen leaves into a pile he'd been making for the past hour. His breath misted in the cold November air. He left his rake by the Keyaki tree and hurried to where the others were already gathered for morning prayers. No heads turned as he sat at the back on the tatami mat floor. The monks had ignored him since he turned up at their hillside retreat seeking sanctuary. It was only the temple's master who showed any concern for his well-being and permitted him to stay provided he worked from dawn to dusk for little more than a straw bed and a few bowls of rice and steamed vegetables each day. He heard them chanting but his mind was elsewhere. Five thousand miles and one hundred and thirty-seven years presented no barriers to a woman so hell-bent on revenge she'd sold her precious soul to the prince of darkness himself. He'd escaped but he was still running. It was only a matter of time before trouble showed up.

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Ooh. I’ll post in a bit 😁. Thanks for the tag!

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Tokenized Human

@tokenizedhuman

The taxi had a broken window and a back door held on by orange rope and the driver sat hunched forward against the bitter cold as he drove him silently through cobbled together masses of concrete and wide expanses of abandoned land and heaped up piles of rubbish all drowned in a pallet of washed out blues and greys that made up this forgotten city, his eyes on the foreigner in the back seat for half the journey asking wordlessly what the fuck he thought he was doing there. It shouldn’t have stood at all but it somehow still did, like a stake driven at an angle into the earth deep enough to never topple, the render on the front all but disappeared, a crack the entire length of the brickwork wide enough to fit a fist into, the elevator doors kicked in and used as a toilet, the stairwell blanketed in darkness where the communal lights had long since been shut off, his building the only one of four that still remained.

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May pfp

@aethernet how would you write the opening paragraph? Make it fun!

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