Jul. 10th, 2014

[identity profile] glennagirl.livejournal.com
If you don't know it already, I'm a huge (make that HUGE) Beatles fan.  I do think there's a Beatles song for every situation, a wisdom for all ages, so to speak.
Let this one guide you.  The title says it all, but the lyrics might help a little as you weave a story around the concept of someone being in need.

lyrics behind the cut... )
[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com
Challenge: What’s my line?

Title: “Idioms can be handy sometimes”

The prompt: “Between a rock and a hard place”

Author: mrua7

Word count: Approximately 1435

                                moon9-1

                                                         

It was a fairly clear night, with the light of a full moon giving the two U.N.C.L.E. agents their only source of light as it silhouetted the black line of trees above their heads. They were pinned down in small rocky outcrop above a gully.


Read more... )

[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Please be warned, this story contains scenarios which could be a trigger to anyone who may have experienced domestic violence. There is nothing graphic, but if you think you may be affected, then please don’t read. I have given it a Gen-Mature tag to reflect the subject matter.

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUM



What’s my Line? Prompt – Between a Rock and a Hard Place.



Illya Kuryakin had arrived at the diner a full thirty minutes before the appointed contact time. He liked to establish the lay of the land and scout out any escape routes, should they become necessary. The other advantage of arriving early was that he could treat himself to a large breakfast, on expenses. The Napoleon Solo influence was definitely starting to rub off on him.

As it was still early, not many of the residents of the small town of Rockstone were up and about. In the diner, other than Illya, there was a young courting couple, two elderly gentlemen and three farmworkers. The young couple seemed to be having a very one-sided argument. The girl was staring at the table, and occasionally shaking her head, as her boyfriend hissed something Illya couldn’t make out. As time progressed, and Illya wolfed down his fried breakfast, the young man’s angry whispers got louder and louder. The girl was in tears by that point, yet no-one seemed to doing stepping in.
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