hiya!
i’m taking a brief break from meaning-based threads, as much as i love them! i really like writing, but i’m terrible at producing more than a few sentences. with that said, if you give me a name, i’ll write you a short vignette - just that couple of sentences, like a little snapshot of that name’s life!
please give me a single name rather than a combo (something like mary jane is fine), just because it’s always awkward to work a middle name into a story naturally!
This is cool! Could you do something with [name_f]Boheme[/name_f] (g) please?
I love your style and aesthetic so I’m very excited to see what your creativity produces
I’d love to see one for Ivo
This is so cool! Would you mind doing one for [name_f]Joanie[/name_f]?
I’d love to see a vignette for [name_m]Oisín[/name_m] 
Oooh this is such a cool idea! Could I please have one for [name_f]Marilyn[/name_f]?
Boheme holds the door open, but doesn’t step aside. She presses her hand to the side of her head. “I like the hair,” I say. “It’s what they call suicide. Suicide blonde.” She nods. It’s a short, sharp nod, with a little, questioning tilt at the end. She’s still standing there, so I sink to sit on the porch. The roses are growing up through the railings.
There’s a tug on Ivo’s line and he hauls it up.
The old man tells him, “Don’t yank on it. Be careful.”
“It’s only a minnow,” Ivo says.
“That’s not the point,” says the old man. He pulls down the brim of his hat and leans back. Ivo puts his feet in the water and listens to the frogs.
@kayv
Caden had been to the shore once before and remembered a hot ocean, hot as bathwater in a hotter summer, remembered a restaurant with roaches crawling up the walls, scurrying behind the ketchup bottle. Getting off the plane the air settled on you like a weighted blanket, perfectly glorious, a total panacea. When I grow up, Caden wrote, I will go to the seaside, and never, ever come back.
“Guess what I dreamed about,” Joanie says, leaning backwards over her chair. She doesn’t wait for an answer. “The end of the world.”
My reaction, even upside-down, isn’t what she’s looking for.
“It’s a bad omen, honey,” she says. Sighs it through the end of a pencil. Her hair is stuck to her lip gloss. “I’m going to fail this test.”
Would you be able to do [name_f]Jemma[/name_f] please?
When I come home, the apartment is blazing. Oisín is sprawled out in a bathtub of cold water, reading a library book. He’s still in all his clothes. The pages are half-wet and rumpled. He always promises he won’t drop them, but his fingers slip.
“Don’t be mad,” he says. It’s too hot to be mad. His eyes are almost closed. “In this heat, it’ll be dry in five minutes.”
Marilyn keeps her bedroom window open in the summer. One day, maybe, she will climb out of it and run. At night she flips the light switch and presses her face up against the screen, whispers it into the garden, to the cicadas. The darkness is electric, close to magic. She waits for an answer, retreats, turns the television on.
“I’m writing a novel,” Jemma says, dreamily. “It’s going to be very avant-garde.” She has been using that word at every opportunity. She is tapping out a rhythm on the counter with her wooden spoon. She is supposed to be stirring the onions.
“It’s about a girl.” She has her head tilted up, which means she is imagining critical acclaim. The onions are burning.
[name_u]Love[/name_u] this idea! Could you do one for [name_f]Amabel[/name_f] please?
This seems so cool, thanks for doing this! I would love to see what you have in mind for [name_f]Dorothy[/name_f]
Oh my goodness you’re an incredible writer!! Thank you for doing these 
When you have the chance I’d love to see [name_f]Fern[/name_f]!
Would love to read one for [name_f]Rebekah[/name_f]!
I love all the ones so far! They’re so intrigueing and delightful to read!
Could you do [name_u]Oleander[/name_u] if you get the chance?
Amabel tells me the story through a mouthful of pins. She is hemming her kilt while wearing it. It has been held up with tape for a week, which is two uniform demerits and one stern warning. The back is proving to be difficult. She keeps poking herself with the needle.
“He told me my conduct was unbefitting of the school,” she says, but it comes out mumbled.
My what? makes her laugh - a mistake. The pins scatter onto the floor.
Dorothy tears out of the house barefoot like there are wolves after her. In a moment she is running across the yard, to the road; in another moment she will be over the hill and gone. She turns tail at the sound of the door. It opens, another closes, and when the command comes she slinks back to the kitchen to put away the dishes.
Fern has to scrabble in the mud for the branch; when she pulls it out, the dirt stays under her fingernails.
“A magic staff,” she says, holding it out. An offering. I shake my head; I am not much for imagination. She knows to set the parameters. “It shoots fire.”
She points it at a tree. The effect is unimpressive. She cocks her head and redraws the lines.
“It puts out fires.” The tree, unburnt, almost looks grateful.
Very great! This was so fun to read, thanks [name_f]May[/name_f]
This is so cool - Could I have one for [name_m]Jacoby[/name_m] (b) please?!
TIA
Lovely idea, so cool.
My fave name is Sarah-Margaret. XX
I’d love to see one for [name_f]Evangeline[/name_f].
This is so interesting! I’d love to see one for [name_f]Euphemia[/name_f] :).