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“Okay, so they’re always sneaking around in ventilation ducts on TV, right? Well, turns out that doesn’t work in real life. I’m not going to be in to work tomorrow, or probably the rest of the week. Also I wrecked the couch. Sorry.” *click*
By Tutlens URL on 06.19.2014
the duct tape was wrapped around her mouth, the sweat dripping from her pours, the cold night air on her back, she knew what was coming, yet she was not prepared for it in anyway. Why she choose to meet a complete stranger out in the woods,, she has no idea, but it had seemed like a good idea a few hours ago.
By paula URL on 06.19.2014
I don’t know what this word means. It kinda of sounds like duck and so perhaps I’ll write about a duck. But I think what’s funny is people see and hear what they want. Even these posts sometimes are twisted into what the writer needs to write. It’s a beautiful thing
By mr marshall on 06.19.2014
like the ones you crawl through
like the feelings you can’t see through
through the bearings
through the wheels
like the tape that I wrapped around your heart
like the litotes you forgot
ducking duct fucking fuck.
By La Bête becomes Man URL on 06.19.2014
bucked and sucked
chance is luck, abrupt
erupt corrupt and stuck
duct is the shaft which is connected with a ventilator machine, in which air flows through. It is usually plastic and has some curves and edges in it.
By Randa on 06.19.2014
i need some duct tape to fix myself. they say: “if you can’t fix it with duct tape or vodka, it is not worth fixing.” so, if i were not worth fixing, what then?
By jimbo URL on 06.19.2014
This dark empty room and the menacing silence, it needled her. He was gone and with him hope. There was no more family. No one but her, and she was but a shadow engulfed in pain. Her willowy frame felt the welling of tears, but as she stared at his memory her ducts refused to release a single one.
By bb333 URL on 06.19.2014
The lad plays make-believe in a world of rusted pipes and dirty fluids. A kingdom of duct canals and happy moment hide the empty stomach and shoeless feet.
By Valentino URL on 06.19.2014
tape, hold, bind, rip, carry water, security, temporary solutions, fixing a boat in the hot summer of 2010, pulling out of a regatta
By Imogen on 06.19.2014
I was stuck in a duct and I thought I was f*ct. A pretty dame rescued me and I shared her apple with her.
By Joe on 06.19.2014
it flowed very adeptly a right up into our house. before we knew it, the gas had knocked us silly. luckily, brenda had the quickness of mind to throw a chair through the window before we passed out.
By Lee URL on 06.19.2014
Shoulders pinned against the silver walls, as she inched her way slowly through the collapsing air duct, she gasped for breath.
Her lungs ran out of air, as the sides pushed against her rib cage, and her cries came out as a whisper drowned in the scream of metal.
By Julie on 06.19.2014
Every spring dad set about cleaning the ducts. A grade A do it yourself aficionado, dad would never concede to calling in a professional, ‘They’re all bloody fiddlers!’ he’d bellow when mum meekly suggested that perhaps this year they call in a firm to clean. ‘No!’ was always the answer, and come Saturday morning, as he did every year, dad stripped down to his worst Y-fronts, knowing he was about to do some sort of extreme sweating over the next 24 hours, taped up all the vents in the house with packing tape and plastic grocery bags, inserted the much boasted about built in vacu-flow system into them and then proceeded to sweat as he erupted with a glorious quantity of ‘damns’ ‘blasts’ and ‘buggers’ for one entire weekend.
By Erica on 06.19.2014
There it was again. A faint whispering cry, coming from the air duct: “Help me.” Only problem – the air duct is just four inches wide.
By mrsmig URL on 06.19.2014
Ein Licht am Ende des Tunnels.
Verlier es niemals aus den Augen.
Verlier niemals den Glauben daran.
Verlier niemals die Gewissheit.
Es ist da!
Ist es auch weit entfernt-
Irgendwo in weiter ferne-
ein Licht am Ende des Tunnels.
By Anuri URL on 06.19.2014
Rusted, rotting, and smelled a mixture of stale petrichor and death; the hole into the subterranean nothingness beneath the stadium was a welcome change from the chaos from above.
By davydoright on 06.19.2014
Fluid motion. Air. Water. And the limitations they must either conform to or adhere to or change completely. Gas, liquid, solid then back again as it recycles indignantly. Particulates distilled or accumulated in the way it goes and goes, but is it never ending? That is the question. Damn contemplations on the heat death of the universe. What was the word again? Oh, yeah. Duct.
Conversely, there is the game of “duct, duct, loose!”
By Intuition URL on 06.19.2014
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.