The Homecoming of Daniel Usherswell
#51 of poetry written for the voice of dog's pride month, and because khakidoggy wanted to try a reading of something with this meter.
The Voice Within: Vying for Control
Closing tight around it "_now,"_ the voice demanded. _"you will either die or give me back my body!"_ it started to shake me senseless. chocking me till i eventually passed out.
his Master's Voice (2)
"_ _ _ it was easy to follow the voice. it was telling him that he was doing well. seemed like a small thing to do to please the voice, as demanding as it was.
His Master's Voice (1)
the voice was so kind, too, encouraging him whenever he was making good speed finding the shapes. this was just another way to get further in the game. he was kinda horny, too.
Introduction to The Lone and Level Sands Stretch Far Away
#53 of poetry so, when you submit a story to be read on the voice of dog, assuming it's long enough to be split into two parts, you're expected to write a little "here's what was in part 1" summary, for the host to read to catch the listener back up since
Pick Your Poison
**Pick Your Poison** **WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT** The day was nearing an end in Jasper, the eastward pointing shadows growing long as the sun made its routine descent over the curve of the earth. The mountains and the trees were lavished in an...
Music to Your Ears
the voice? the snap? both. yes… there’s a part of me that never switches off. the analyst who keeps an eye on things, takes plenty of notes like a director in the corner watching the actors at work. but the director’s not taking any notes.
Voices
:d the voices in my head belong to all my friends, a viking here, an officer there egos all around. refreshed anew by this lead, a soldier bellows 'this is the end!' as i pull out my hair, and roll onto the ground.
The Voice Inside
I realised i had screamed it out, trying to drown out the voice. waiting, i held my breath, but it did not return.
Voices
But i don't know if i can follow the voices along the way. i'm hearing voices in my head i don't know what to do. i feel i'm going crazy i don't know what to say.
A Good Smell; A Nice Voice
Sylve hugged the collar of her dusk-colored traveling cloak closer. Her summer coat felt mismatched to the alpine climate the Pitri lived in. She waited before a pair of wooden doors carved with a relief of a tree large as the mountains its trunks...
The Voice of the Crane
the voice was a bit raspy, but there was no doubt of the authority behind it. he continued, "tell me, young comelius, what makes the dorian empire great?"