Sunday, March 19, 2006

Blue Horses

The Blue Horse
A surreal literary story generated by Geoffrey Multimedia & PBW

One day there was a green dog. The green dog was quite content to live in a cat and eat books.

Suddenly, there was a happy knocking sound coming from the rebellion. The dog jumped in fright. It decided to run to the dragonfly, and got there just in time to see a blue horse standing there! The horse waved an angry doormat and the dog turned into a lost writer. One quite unable to walk!

The horse shimmered and disappeared, leaving a few agents in its place. The writer picked up the agents and popped one into her mouth. The gift of speech befell the writer, who exclaimed,

"What a confused day! I think I shall pick horses!"

Off went the lost writer, quickly running and skipping, finally tripping on a scintillating reviewer and toppling headlong into a green editor. Needless to say, it succumbed to a bewildered death.

The moral of this story?

If you are thinking of becoming a dog, never open a dragonfly until you are sure there is no blue horse lying in wait.

Above all, live hotly. The horses you eat may be your last!


Want your own surreal literary story? Visit Geoffrey Multimedia's Random Story Generator

1 comment:

  1. Roflol, here's mine:

    One day there was a brave gladius. The brave gladius was quite content to live in a wood and eat gods.

    Suddenly, there was a kinky knocking sound coming from the assault. The gladius jumped in fright. It decided to fight to the fort, and got there just in time to see a redhaired soldier standing there! The soldier waved a inimical Pict and the gladius turned into a cold cuirass. One quite unable to charge!

    The soldier shimmered and disappeared, leaving a few Romans in its place. The cuirass picked up the Romans and popped one into her ear. The gift of speech befell the cuirass, who exclaimed,

    "What a forbidding day! I think I shall pick horses!"

    Off went the cold cuirass, victoriously running and skipping, finally tripping on a sharp armistice and toppling headlong into a brave rivulet. Needless to say, it succumbed to a ancient death.

    The moral of this story?

    If you are thinking of becoming a gladius, never open a fort until you are sure there is no redhaired soldier lying in wait.

    Above all, live darkly. The horses you eat may be your last!

    Now, it that isn't intertextual-discoursive-symbolistic-new age writing.

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