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sunday lunch

by abi | Score: 1550

acid scrapes at my throat, undulating in my pulsing stomach. every pore on my skin throbs with sweat, with panic, with disgust. eyes blurred by vertigo, nausea rocking my body with the violence and passion of a wave crashing against a rowboat. a river of vomit rips out of my mouth, splashing onto the pavement.  delightful. just what I needed. the chicken from Sunday lunch, now a mangled mess on the ground beneath me, had obviously gone off. I had even won the fucking wishbone and everything. such luck. a fresh wave of spittle, acid, snot and tears, flew out of me from their respective exits. light and sound throbbed against my senses, ricocheting against my skull with each blink of my dribbling eyes. today is not my day. 

Completed challenges

The following challenges were completed during the writing exercise:

Begin Start typing to begin
Letter Use the letter I
Words Reach 50 words
Words Reach 100 words
Prop Include a wishbone
Event Someone gets food poisoning
Letter Use the letter E

This story was written using Taleforge, the free writing exercise app powered by The Story Shack. Curious? Try it yourself.

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