I've seen "It was a dark and stormy night..." referenced (in jest) in another thread. Dunno if anyone will come out to play, but I thought it interesting if there was a challenge to write the first few lines of a story that used that cliche, but made something new from it. Here's my attempt: It was a dark and stormy night, which made Barry even more surprised to see hundreds of naked people slowly walking down the road, all going in the same direction. His parents, eyes glassy, movements mechanical, walked down the garden path dropping their clothes as they went. That's when it struck Barry that something very, very, bad was going down.
It was a dark and stormy night. Alice watched as rain battered down on the plastic windows of the command module. The first rain that Mars had seen in millions of years. Five years she'd spent cooped up in Terraforming Station C with three sweaty male scientists, but tonight it all felt worth it.
It was a dark and stormy night. Ellie liked it. The flash of the lightning, the roar of the thunder, and the pelting shower of the torrential rain brought from deep within her a primal, raging fury of her bloodline. For it is this night...the were-lioness awakens...
It was a dark and stormy night, but Claudia didn't mind at all. She was practically dancing as she left the house and headed down the street toward the mall. Was it a bit hard to see? She didn't care about that, not when she was following such a familiar path. Was the rain cold as the wind drove it into her face? No, it was invigorating, one more challenge she was going to face and overcome. Starlight and warm breezes would have been too easy, and she didn't need things easy. Not her.
It was a dark and stormy night outside the tunnels, and Dhere could have bet this months chits that it would be him being called upon to build the shelter. Whenever the voices screatched worst on the wind, scraping raw the nerves of everyone required to go outside and secure the farms, someone was needed to provide the necessary shelter for their minds. Someone competent. That they would not go insane. Of course, he thought scathingly while staring out into the blackness where even the stars were absent, this night was just about perfect for an enjoyable jaunt. All that was missing now was howling thunder and sheeting rain. In that moment, the first raindrop struck him on the cheek. MY story!!! Back off!
It was a dark and stormy night, just like every night was in Oakfell. A day without clouds or rain was an oddity here. Most were sleeping at this time, but one young fellow was out in the rain. He had no umbrella but wore a white coat and hat which provided some protection. He stood on the empty sidewalk and watched the storm. His mind wandered to some troubling situation which he was avoiding at this moment. He knew as soon as he arrived home, he would have to face consequences which he was not ready to. He didn't know how much longer he could stand out here, waiting for some courage to push him home to deal with the problem. He wished one of these raindrops would tell him how to solve the pressing matter, but that was unlikely as he knew. Something in the back of his mind told him it was time to head home. He took a deep breath, breathing in the smells of rain, before beginning his stroll down the sidewalk which would lead him home. He didn't feel ready, but he knew he never would be.
It was a dark and stormy night; and that, thought Hamish, took care of the weather forecast. What was it his grandmother had said? "If ye can see the ben across the loch, it's goin' tae rain. If ye canna see the ben across the loch, it's rainin'." Tonight, Hamish wasn't even sure there was a ben across the loch.
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind and rain further eroded the few remaining signs that humans had once thrived on this planet. A cockroach scuttled by. Even in the scant one thousand years since humanity disappeared, Darwinian evolution had doubled the cockroaches' intelligence and tripled their physical size. From the ruins of one great civilisation, another great civilisation would rise. May it be that they treat the Earth better than we did.
It was a dark and stormy night. Voorhees awoke. The flash of lightning harkened like a twit of a manager. "For fuck's sake. Forecast was s'posed to be overcast," he mumbled to himself. "I can't believe this shit. Four straight nights of storm -- am I ever going to get a break?" He dragged himself out of bed, putting on his coveralls one leg at a time, bemoaning his role in society. "Okay, that's it! Where's my good mask? I'm not wearing that Wal-Mart Halloween piece of shit that doesn't fit again. I'm going to lose my fucking mind." He considered calling the producers to inform that he can't make it in. Seeing that this would be not keeping with his image, he donned the glow-in-the-dark face shield, elastic-polyester straps scrunching his nose.
It was a dark and stormy night. I put the old pillows in a garbage bag, smeared myself with catsup, and dramatically dragged it into the back yard. Lightening flashed overhead, illuminating me, shovel in hand as I dug a large hole. Smiling a wicked smile I pushed the bag into the hole and began filling it in. In my heart I knew the neighbors wouldn't let their kids run screaming through my yard ever again.
I have never done this before , I dont want to add to the story but to say that, in older age, I have learnt that time does help me to make up my mind. In the passed I felt i had to plunge in before i knew what to do. That is, time helps if you go on trying to think what to do, not if you dont and time, as in various days, weeks, not minutes. Not a very helpful comment here, to the writer but can be helpful in life. Maybe helpful in a story the sort of turning over difficulties that leads in the end to learning to thow out ideas that you dont like.
It was a dark and stormy night, and Ciria was the cause. Smugly, she watched the slow destruction from the orb. "Fools!", she proclaimed, and stuck the stake in the sand. Closing her eyes she felt the tears squeeze their way through. "Stupid, stupid, fools", she said, much more softly this time. She opened her eyes. Blinked. Looked around. The orb. The orb was gone. Wide-eyed with not a breath taken, she caught his scent, he had been there. He had taken the orb.
It was a dark and stormy night and Andrew sat in front of his computer without anything in particular to work on. He was depressed and wasn’t very interested in the sites he was browsing so he stopped to think and watch and listen to the rain fall. The rain was pelting against the side of his house and his window, and the loud crash of thunder almost immediately after lightning startled him and made him jump in his chair. It was a terrible rain and it reminded him of his life. He felt lonely and isolated just like each raindrop is separate from all the other raindrops as if falls through the air. “However,” he thought to himself, “it doesn’t rain forever.” He chuckled to himself and cracked a smile as he came to this epiphany. Who knows what could be waiting for him if he just resolved to change his life? He then and there decided to turn his life around and find out what it will be for him when the skies clear and the warm sun dries up all the rain.
It was a dark and stormy night as Ryan sat on the wrap around porch of his home at the edge of town. He held his drink and cigarette with one hand watching the lightening waltz across the clouds. in the distance the headlights of a lonesome traveler cut through the sheets of rain as it followed the winding driveway towards him. As the sound of the engine began to cut in over the thunder Ryan picked up the pistol that sat on the small table that held his ashtray. He smiled, knowing that the storm would cover any struggle between him and the man in the car.
It was a dark and stormy night. At least that's what I have been told. I really can't say for sure because I wasn't fucking there. Well, okay, I was there, but I wasn't, you know, there. In the end though, who really gives a shit what the weather was like? I was a bit busy being dead at the time. Six bullets in the chest and one in the head will do that to a guy. But don't you worry your pretty eyes red about me, sister. I ain't gonna be dead for much longer and when I get back you are all in deep shit. So, run. Run for your lives. Your worst nightmare is just beginning.
It was a dark and stormy night. It is a dark and stormy night. The storm has lasted for months. The night has never seen the light of day. They promised help. Nothing ever came. They sent me out here to die. Sometimes, in the gaps of the storm, I can see a distant light. It wasn't heaven. It was home, Earth. Hope was the drug that kept me up all night, because day will never come.
It was a dark and stormy night as I tracked my quarry, the rain making its prints hard to follow, yet the brief illuminations allowed me to spot the beast, and made me curse under my breath. "It's taken flight and we can barely see it." My brother shouted over the rain, or at least attempted to, the words being drowned out by the torrent. I took a deep breath and began to sprint, leaping onto a rock and firing a single arrow that faded into the night. Nothing, the creature continued its flight and I gave a sigh before stepping down. Failure once again.
"It was a dark and stormy night" said Dani as the she sat in between the children. She was Reading them bedtime story in hopes that they would grow bored and fall asleep. "How dark was it?" the girl asked "Yeah and what kind of storm was it." the boy chimed it. "Where there street lights?" questioned the girl. "It's just the beginning of the stor-." Dani tried to continue "Yeah but they were safe right?" asked the girl, her wide eyes full of concern. "No way" the boy responded "I bet the Jason guy was there and he is going to..." "Or maybe the knife finger guy." add the the girl excitement in her voice. "Oh oh what about that killer doll you know the good guy." "Chucky" the girl's responded "you two, those guys are not in this book, now can I please continue reading the story?" asked Dani "It would e better if they were in the story." added the boy "Yeah" said the girl " they could kill everybody." said the girl Dani closed the book she smiled as she sat back and listened to the children talk about the possibilities of what could be in the story book. She thought that they had a pretty good story in the works, Besides, the opening lines sounded so cliche to her.
It was a dark and stormy night, Jake finished putting on his khakis. Another storm, another night taking insurance claims at State Farm.
It was a dark and stormy night... At least, it was on my side of the house. On the other side it was the complete opposite - a clear, sunny afternoon. My house was the boundary between Night and Day. No, I do not mean this as a sort of metaphor. I mean my house was literally the boundary between Night and Day. The result of attempt number 23 of my spell was perhaps the most absurd outcome yet. I worried that the spell had permanently altered the sun and moon in some bizarre way, but then I figured that notion was even more outlandish than my situation at the time. Then I turned on the news...
"It was a dark and stormy night." Jake shouted as he burst out into laughter and slapped his hands onto the desk, trying to suppress tears of joy. To his right, coffee splashed against a computer screen. His colleague Mark, too, had erupted with uncontrollable laughter at the mention of the sentence, but unfortunately it caught the acne-covered chap as he tried to swallow some of the black fluid now dripping down from his monitor. "We've got another one, folks" Jake cried as he waved the manuscript into the air of the editors office, the once-quiet room now filled with a cacophony of joyous chaos. Even Serious Ed - normally morose and expressionless like a body dug up some three weeks after burial - was rolling on the ground while screaming frantically. "Can you believe this guy, Mark?" Jake said while tossing the ball of crumbled paper into the trashcan. "Nah. Hey, let's order some pizza, shall we?"
"It was a dark and stormy night..." and yet she played hopscotch, thinking the moon's rays would dissolve the fun-sapping clouds. She got wet, however, and slipped on the water-covered concrete. And might have cracked her skull, if it was not for her mother's back. Let me explain. As "Skipparina," a name given by her classmates while in the first grade, jumped against common sense, the frantic mom of six, sprinted to save her youngest. Yes, this mother had been a soccer player a decade prior-- and she still possessed the feet of a stag, the speed of a cheetah. Well, no matter the race inside her chest, she saw her determined daughter falling on her hard lesson, called pavement. And this might have been the case, were it not for mom's safety-sacrificing leap got her between ground and girl, just... in... time. Sadly, while Skipparina was saved, her mother's hope of returning to field games did not survive. She was injured; and little Skippy was embarrassed. Oh, and the rain kept falling from the cold sky and on a child who could have listened. The End ~#A
It was a dark and stormy night. The next morning dawned, bright and fresh. Birds sang in triumph. If one could speak bird, one might hear this song as such: ""Still alive, still here. Take that storms!" Birds can be cocky little bitches sometimes.
It was a dark and stormy night, which didn't help the mood on the already-weary bridge crew. Martin Gale hand't seen a storm this bad since his posting on the Bunker hill. the cruiser thrashed in the massive swells as she steamed up the east coast, making for the remains of Boston harbor, tailed by what was left of the United States Atlantic fleet. the operation for which he was heading was as simple as he could wish for; drop anchor just offshore and rain fire on the rubble before the Marines took back the city, in an attempt to thin the horde.
