One Perfect Sentence - The Jimp June Challenge!

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Hannah Faoileán

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To honour 160 years since the birth of W.B. Yeats, the theme of this month's One Perfect Sentence is "No enemy but time".

You must adhere to the theme but do not need to use Yeats' words (though you may if you so wish).

The rules are simple:

  • Each entry must be ONE sentence only, as defined by the basic rules of English grammar. We will notice if you squeeze unrelated clauses together and pretend it's a sentence, so please don't do it. Your entry will be disqualified and removed.

  • Don’t comment on other people's entries – this makes the thread far less readable. If you’d like to make a comment – or if you have a question – then please do so in Café Life, using the “One Perfect Sentence” prefix. I will keep checking the thread to answer any questions. If you have a question you don't want others to read, please private message me directly.

  • You can make as many entries as you want to.

  • IMPORTANT: You MUST make your entry anonymous by ticking the “Posting as Anonymous?” box. Entries that don’t do this will be removed.

Voting will open later this month.

Good luck and get writing! :writing-hand:
 
We conspire in these aging dreams, vague but somehow attached to Litopia, obsessed with overweight and underthought politics.
 
The egotist and the fantasist
Are obsessed with losing time;
Arise and bid me strike a match
And strike another till they catch;
Should the conflagration climb,
Live and meet the end with zest.
 
To honour 160 years since the birth of W.B. Yeats, the theme of this month's One Perfect Sentence is "No enemy but time".

You must adhere to the theme but do not need to use Yeats' words (though you may if you so wish).

The rules are simple:

  • Each entry must be ONE sentence only, as defined by the basic rules of English grammar. We will notice if you squeeze unrelated clauses together and pretend it's a sentence, so please don't do it. Your entry will be disqualified and removed.

  • Don’t comment on other people's entries – this makes the thread far less readable. If you’d like to make a comment – or if you have a question – then please do so in Café Life, using the “One Perfect Sentence” prefix. I will keep checking the thread to answer any questions. If you have a question you don't want others to read, please private message me directly.

  • You can make as many entries as you want to.

  • IMPORTANT: You MUST make your entry anonymous by ticking the “Posting as Anonymous?” box. Entries that don’t do this will be removed.

Voting will open later this month.

Good luck and get writing! :writing-hand:
It would be nice if this section of Litopia also had a page that showed the winning entries for each month. Is there a place they're listed?x
 
Although Time is not tangible, I want to kill it nonetheless.
 
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"Time is the enemy here," he warned, though as he added "while garlic is a friend" I might have spelled that wrong.
 
As my lifetime is downsized to a car boot full of belongings, I tell my son I'm only moving to the Golden Years Retirement Home because it's named after a David Bowie song.
 
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The email was from Mr. Time, the only enemy to my clock-making business.
 
Writing this story would be a breeze if I didn't have just FIVE MINUTES before the submission deadline.
 
"No enemy but time," he says; no enemy but the failure to make peace with yourself, says I.
 
I was going to propose and everything, but the train was late, and then the bombs began to fall.
 
When the doctor said my biological clock had stopped, I realised it wasn't him, it wasn't me, it was time that killed my chance.
 
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As the numbers on the screen of the arcade machine counted down towards zero, I knew my boy wasn't going to make the checkpoint, and I feared his rage, as I had no more quids in my pocket.
 
Twenty years later, every moment with you still haunts the path leading up to that stranger's door.
 
My eyes glazed as the doctor's voice concerning the time-limiting prognosis droned on, my only thoughts concerned with the whereabouts of that jokingly-created bucket list.
 
"No enemy but thyme," said the recipe, although parsley, sage, and rosemary didn't help with the judges at the Scarborough Fair chili cook-off.
 
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As I read my mother's tombstone for the hundredth time, 'She did all she could in the time she was given' I realized she was no longer the nemesis in my life - my nemesis now was time.
 
Great minds still debate whether time is linear or cyclical, but that doesn't matter now as it killed them all a long time ago.
 
As it's gonna take him at most three seconds to reload, but I'm at least twenty seconds from the nearest shelter, it's pretty clear that my real enemy is time.
 
I tried to make time my friend by giving it more and more - cramming it fuller and fuller - but, like an overfed child, it puked all over me then left.
 
The older I get, I realise that time isn't my enemy, but gravity.
 
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The TV was still blaring when I woke, so I reached my wrinkled hand over to his, expecting warmth and love to emanate from him, like always, but time had turned always to never.
 
My only excuse for being so lackadaisical in my correspondence is that the world turns faster with each passing year, and time escapes me in the humdrum of life, but I didn’t forget you.
 
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