hey tv-savvy people…my mom told me about a show (on Nat Geo, maybe?) where some ‘contestants’ are put in a cordoned-off urban area and filmed as they try to survive an apocalypse scenario.
any idea what that show might be called?
NVM…it’s called The Colony and it’s on Discovery.
no one but charlotte will care about this, and so i’m doing this for her and for myself.
“You can get with that or you can get with this…but I don’t give a shit because it’s none of your business..”
I. for vendettalee
What’s criminally unfair is that even his worst decisions were somehow easier than this, justifiable or whatever. But indulging himself, for only himself, has never been Derek’s strong suit. After fifteen minutes spent staring through the windshield, with an anguish reserved for Catholics and beauty queens, he shuts off the engine and goes inside the Dunkin Donuts.
II. for kyeshgall
The wind took the clew out over the deck, mainsheet whipping free of its block in the snarling gust, and with it went Hawke’s body. Isabela didn’t even hear her shout above the pounding growl of rain and waves. One moment there were six of them wrestling like sodden kittens for the tack, and then only five.
III. for cheesiestart
He watched for the glint of a spyglass across the bay in the waning light. Beside the open window, on the wall itself, Anders had doodled moons of every phase, some the very shape of their hidden bridge. She’d cross tonight, sure, but he doubted the tide would ever be in their favor.
IV. for ltleflrt
There’s a tattoo, mostly filled with freckles and poor judgment rendered in fading black, but it’s there. On her ox-muscled ass, no less! Before Isabela can voice a single vowel or consonant, Aveline crushes a handful of smallclothes into her open mouth with a warning look.
V. for afragmentcastadrift
Miranda shifts the baby to her hip, not ready to hand her back just yet, and watches her tiny blue fingers follow the path of raindrops on the window.
“On Benning we managed to rescue a handful of civilians from Cerberus,” says Liara, “and before we left it started to rain. Acid rain, actually.”
“It wouldn’t be a mission with Shepard if even the weather wasn’t out to get you,” Miranda replies, nudging her hand beneath the baby’s to feel the chill of the glass.
VI. for iambickilometer
When they landed in Estwatch for repairs and provisions, Isabela bounded off the dock and into the backstreets to stretch her legs. She found the string, a pink and dirty lifeline clinging along the alleyway bricks, and followed where it threaded through bushes and market carts, all the way up the tumbled fortress to a broken parapet overlooking the port.
“Still lost, kitten?” she murmured to the clouds, and wound the yarn into a sloppy ball.
Three sentence ficlet prompts? I’m stuck in Houston and I’ll need something to do when mom goes to bed at 8pm.