the billiards place where tom cruise was in that movie is by my house. somehow I see that as a sign to go forth with my vision, my vocation.
kay
He looked back at Chris and squinted a look of confusion. “That makes as much sense as blind men playing billiards!”
Tom threw his hands in the air and shouted back; “I know, but that’s what Head Office told us to do!”
tonykeyesjapan
Silence but for the soft roll of cue balls on green baize and the irregular tap-tap-tap as they collide, the dull thunk as the red ball is potted.
Juliet
A whistle. Oh, the colors white and green and gray. Knock, knock, knock. The swift hiss. A near miss. A hazard to trust the spin, a cue stick’s glance upon a glare of the curve. A wager for the player. Yes, there’s always money on the table. As blue fingertips glide to the tips – stretching for every advantageous inch, inch, inch – leverage, sweet leverage. Knuckles clench as eyes close. Let it be a smooth, smooth flow. A chain reaction of satisfaction.
I knew how to play billiards, which was just how pretentious people said pool, from the days of my father teaching me. We played at this old bar and restaurant that seemed dingy and dirty, even to my six year old eyes. We played three player, even though I don’t think that’s allowed, but regardless, that is how I learned.
I knew how to play from the days of my father teaching me. We played at this old bar/restaurant that seemed dingy and dirty, even to my six year old eyes. We played three player, even though I don’t think that’s allowed, but regardless, that is how I learned.
Hannah
smooth, green felt atop a wooden table. Cigars and whiskey being consumed by the participants. Chalk dust flying around as each ball is struck. The tension and expectation is the crowd is palpable.
Jimmy
Returning her cue to the rack after yet another successful game, she stopped briefly to shake hands with her opponent.
“Yer one helluva billiards player, girlie.” the burly man admitted readily, offering her a surprised grin. “I’d like the chance to win that money back next time you’re in town.”
She smirked in reply. “You’re on,”
“Man, I bet someone’s gotten lost here before. Makishima-san’s house is kind of huge.”
“As in, never seen again?” Imaizumi’s tone of voice suggests he’s losing confidence in their spur of the moment ‘quest to find the third years.
Onoda peers into another hallway but follows close behind. “Wouldn’t Makishima-san know about that, though? A random stranger in his house?”
“I dunno- I know I wouldn’t!” Naruko laughs, pausing at one door and turning the knob. “Man, if I had a house this big-”
It opens, and reveals a large parlor-like room complete with corner mini bar, a billiards table, and…well, their senpais. Playing pool.
“Haha, told you, Maki. You shoulda texted them or something.” Tadokoro chides from the corner while he applies chalk to the tip of his pool stick. Kinjou hums in agreement.
“Right…” Makishima eyes the frozen first years, squinting from where he’s poised leaning over the table. “Hey, if you guys are gonna stand there all day, you ought to close the door.”
“O-Okay!!” All three yelp in unison and slam the door shut.
“…that…was really, really cool!”
“I feel like I just walked in on a mafia movie scene…”
Imaizumi turns heel and walks away. “You are both. So. Embarrassing.”
billiards. i don’t know the meaning of this word and at first I thought it said billards. which I don’t think is a word. I’m bad at this and I need a new word that I know what it means but that’s okay because, look at me I’m writing about it. I’m just cool. The word billiards sounds cool but I don’t like how the I after the L’s sounds. It kind of annoys me.
brae
Cassie sat on top of the rundown building staring out into the waters of the new sea. The ghost of of the local billiard where her father used to hang out and get drunk was now half drowned in the rising waters of the world. Soon it would be nothing but lost under water like her father, and the rest of Cassie’s past.
Bob’s Billiards was the local haunt of the southern town of Danton. Diana always thought that was partly due to the fact that the mall closed down and so the only place in town worth good time was Bob Dyllan’s place where you could play all the pool you want and eat his amazing barbecue
Candise
The ball raced across the greed padded table, laying waste to the serenity. Looking up, Koda shot his competitor a dirty eye and crooked smile.
Daniel
smoke rose from the wooden table and little splinters stuck out from the walls in the old speakeasy. I finally knew what it was like to play billiards with grenades.
A. G. Russell
Together we huddle for warmth, until time rockets us from our triangular cradle and bounces us, one by one, across the flat expanses of our lives, some at high speed, some at low, some prolonged, some foreshortened — but, inevitably, we all find the darkness.
Makes me think of when I was in the Music Man in 5th grade…”starts with B and that rhymes with P and that stands for pool.” Or something.
K
Let’s talk about the first time I played billiards in the basement of my uncle’s bait shop. I say “bait shop” because just saying “I played pool in the basement of a drug ring HQ” is what we in America call “coming on too strong.” Yeah. Family fun.
It was smoky. A quarter to two…two am. I wanted to cry. I was so tired. My eyes burned from the smoke. It saturated my clothes, my mouth, my mind. It was all I could think about. Until I saw him…across the room. He was playing billiards, a cigar tucked idly in his lips. Suddenly it wasn’t so smoky, suddenly I felt like playing billiards…
Clack clack clack. The balls roll around the table. Richie is in good form tonight. Might actually eat if all goes well. The mark he’s playing doesn’t know his ass from his stick. Everything might go well for once.
Pat
sliding, battling
over this artificial green
it’s a game we play
with many names
be it war or billiards
the end is just the same
a world full of angry men
all seemingly losers, betrayed
It was as simple as a game of billiards – one thing caused many other things. In other words, if the beginning was off, everything else would be as well. It was a wave, a motion that continued over time and grew. Something tiny might end up having an enormous effect later on. This was what terrified her.
The balls dispersed as the white one hit the blue one, the red one, the yellow one. It’s a game of billiards, they said. It’s meant to disrupt the order in the world.
Cat
Alfie ran his hand over the velvet green material of the pool table, smiling to himself. He turned to look at his girlfriend, who was still looking around the large basement, holding two suitcases in her hands.
“It’s gorgeous, dang.” She mumbled to herself, giggling. “And that pool table—or wait, do you call it billiards in England?”
He rolled his eyes, walking over and taking the bags from her. “No, silly, we call it pool.”
Ariana giggled again. “Sorry, babe.”
AJ Kenobi
I’m not sure what a billiard is. It reminds me of a billboard, though. Billboards annoy me. So big and obnoxious. Couldn’t companies think of a more creative way to advertise? It’s not like people really pay attention to them other that to be annoyed by them.
Deep red walls, the fuzz of wine in my head and the billiard balls flung across the hushed felt table like eyeballs.
Tiggy
Allen leveraged himself up onto the billiard table, careful to keep one foot touching the ground. he tried not to make a face at the mess of colored balls scattered across the table top. Personally, this wasn’t his favorite version of the game.
His version usually involved a lot more personal space and sharp things. Very sharp things.
“Keep your elbow down, darling,” Veronica said, touching his arm as she glided past. Her hand settled on the crook of his elbow, then dropped down to smooth over his thigh as she maintained her perfect hostess smile.
He lowered his elbow a fraction of an inch and resisted the urge to scowl at her. “Is the coffee ready or did I miss something?”
“You didn’t miss a thing,” Veronica’s smile morphed into a smirk. “And you’re really not going to hit anything like that.”
“I’m not trying to,” Allen stopped. He aimed at the nearest pocket and jabbed the cue stick awkwardly in that direction. He felt the whistle of the wind right before he saw the actual result.
The dainty scone knife was buried in the face of the panicking Gareth and all the other players had instantly drawn their weapons.
Allen rolled off the edge of the table and snatched the gun from his ankle holster. Veronica joined him on the carpet, her eyes alight with an eerie blue fire. “You could have warned me!” he hissed.
“Oh but darling, it’s glorious!” She looped one arm through his. “I know you hate playing billiards, so don’t make such a face. They can’t see us anymore anyway.”
It was just a word from the music man as far as I was concern, that thing that was apparently more classy than pool. Then again the guy selling was a crook and the people buying were really uptight, so there you have it. I looked at the carpeted table and the cue in my hand and sighed. This was going to be a long night.
Lining up the shot, Alex bent over the pool table. She gently pulled the smooth pool stick back and followed through the shot. The multi-colored triangle shattered, making pieces fly all over the table. Three disappeared into deep depths of the pockets. From behind her, cheers exploded.
Sierra
The pool table was in the most inconvienint corner of the poorly lit bar: next to the exit door leading to the smokers patio. As I sat on my torn faux leather barstool, leaning slightly into the brick wall behind me, I watched him line up a shot and miss the cue ball completely. I sipped more ciroc out of my straw, bored.
Jenna
I suck at playing billiards. I just can’t get the coordination down. Don’t ask me the play. Most likely I will end up hitting myself with the pool stick and then scratching.
Kristen K
I could barely hear myself think over the clacking of billiards and drunken trashtalking. “You SCRATCHED that shit, MOTHERFUCKER!”
It wasn’t an ideal place to hear the news that the last five years of your life may as well have never happened. But she looked at me with a sort of sweet sincerity, even if I wasn’t supposed to get used to seeing it ever again.
She was playing pool at the bar with friends. Knocked in another ball, and another. She wasn’t very good at it, but lady luck was with her this night — which was good, because they were putting money on this game. Sadly, barely anyone put money down on her to win. It didn’t matter, though, really. She would still end up taking their money after killing them all.
Livy D
I didn’t go out to billiards with friends. I didn’t want a beer, or an overly salted pretzel, or a bunch of pictures taken of me on a cellphone to be put up on the newest and “freshest” networking site. I stayed at home with a ninety-nine degree temperature, watching bad movies over and over again until I got tired of seeing Tom Cruise’s face everywhere.
The June heat should have been unbearable, but I felt cold instead. When I got sick, I was almost paralyzed. It was pathetic.
Belinda Roddie
A noble and complicated game is billiards. I used to play in a couple’s tournament when I tended bar. We only played 8 ball, never the more sophisticated 9 ball or billiards.
Patt
whats the difference
a pretentious word for pool
pretentious like all the world can be
everyone wants to feel fancy and superior
the upper echelon
cream of the crop
well i hate this crop
MONSANTO
Dan
I shoot with the carved dexterous wooden craft, aiming for the pleasure of accuracy,
little progress is every made, the technique I lack, loathing for coordination,
the sea gull transports several treats in the luggage of the beak at once,
when he incidentally gulps down a serpent creature, too magnificent in breadth,
consequently he suffers, can it be that the overweening capacity of his esteems
render him valid in thinking he can bare weight, more weight, in transport,
with the stick, I craft a shot to the ulterior eight ball, it leaves me in scatter,
technique is a masterful art-form, constituting our successes, the solitude of satisfaction,
chiefly, to continue birds still flock, pool shots still fling!
I remember smoking in the billiard hall when I was first starting out. This was of course before the smoking ban. The sound of the balls cracking always seemed to make the music in the air sound better than it was. I was alright with that.
The bollards down town Brooklyn was pretty funn. I learne how to play pool with Kevin and my old boss. It was really great. Except I hate my boss now. My head hurts from thinking about it. Maybe I’ll play it again
Lynn
I remember learning about reflections in Geometry class. I was really interested because I wondered if that was how people know how to predict which way a billiard ball will go when hit. I still haven’t been able to try it out, but I want to.
Victoria
Triangular in shape, tight knitted bound together by sheer energy. That is how i can describe how this thing is between you and I. Only when a force strikes it does it scatter in different directions, but we always find a way to come back together.
the billiards place where tom cruise was in that movie is by my house. somehow I see that as a sign to go forth with my vision, my vocation.
He looked back at Chris and squinted a look of confusion. “That makes as much sense as blind men playing billiards!”
Tom threw his hands in the air and shouted back; “I know, but that’s what Head Office told us to do!”
Silence but for the soft roll of cue balls on green baize and the irregular tap-tap-tap as they collide, the dull thunk as the red ball is potted.
A whistle. Oh, the colors white and green and gray. Knock, knock, knock. The swift hiss. A near miss. A hazard to trust the spin, a cue stick’s glance upon a glare of the curve. A wager for the player. Yes, there’s always money on the table. As blue fingertips glide to the tips – stretching for every advantageous inch, inch, inch – leverage, sweet leverage. Knuckles clench as eyes close. Let it be a smooth, smooth flow. A chain reaction of satisfaction.
I knew how to play billiards, which was just how pretentious people said pool, from the days of my father teaching me. We played at this old bar and restaurant that seemed dingy and dirty, even to my six year old eyes. We played three player, even though I don’t think that’s allowed, but regardless, that is how I learned.
I knew how to play from the days of my father teaching me. We played at this old bar/restaurant that seemed dingy and dirty, even to my six year old eyes. We played three player, even though I don’t think that’s allowed, but regardless, that is how I learned.
smooth, green felt atop a wooden table. Cigars and whiskey being consumed by the participants. Chalk dust flying around as each ball is struck. The tension and expectation is the crowd is palpable.
Returning her cue to the rack after yet another successful game, she stopped briefly to shake hands with her opponent.
“Yer one helluva billiards player, girlie.” the burly man admitted readily, offering her a surprised grin. “I’d like the chance to win that money back next time you’re in town.”
She smirked in reply. “You’re on,”
“Man, I bet someone’s gotten lost here before. Makishima-san’s house is kind of huge.”
“As in, never seen again?” Imaizumi’s tone of voice suggests he’s losing confidence in their spur of the moment ‘quest to find the third years.
Onoda peers into another hallway but follows close behind. “Wouldn’t Makishima-san know about that, though? A random stranger in his house?”
“I dunno- I know I wouldn’t!” Naruko laughs, pausing at one door and turning the knob. “Man, if I had a house this big-”
It opens, and reveals a large parlor-like room complete with corner mini bar, a billiards table, and…well, their senpais. Playing pool.
“Haha, told you, Maki. You shoulda texted them or something.” Tadokoro chides from the corner while he applies chalk to the tip of his pool stick. Kinjou hums in agreement.
“Right…” Makishima eyes the frozen first years, squinting from where he’s poised leaning over the table. “Hey, if you guys are gonna stand there all day, you ought to close the door.”
“O-Okay!!” All three yelp in unison and slam the door shut.
“…that…was really, really cool!”
“I feel like I just walked in on a mafia movie scene…”
Imaizumi turns heel and walks away. “You are both. So. Embarrassing.”
billiards. i don’t know the meaning of this word and at first I thought it said billards. which I don’t think is a word. I’m bad at this and I need a new word that I know what it means but that’s okay because, look at me I’m writing about it. I’m just cool. The word billiards sounds cool but I don’t like how the I after the L’s sounds. It kind of annoys me.
Cassie sat on top of the rundown building staring out into the waters of the new sea. The ghost of of the local billiard where her father used to hang out and get drunk was now half drowned in the rising waters of the world. Soon it would be nothing but lost under water like her father, and the rest of Cassie’s past.
Bob’s Billiards was the local haunt of the southern town of Danton. Diana always thought that was partly due to the fact that the mall closed down and so the only place in town worth good time was Bob Dyllan’s place where you could play all the pool you want and eat his amazing barbecue
The ball raced across the greed padded table, laying waste to the serenity. Looking up, Koda shot his competitor a dirty eye and crooked smile.
smoke rose from the wooden table and little splinters stuck out from the walls in the old speakeasy. I finally knew what it was like to play billiards with grenades.
Together we huddle for warmth, until time rockets us from our triangular cradle and bounces us, one by one, across the flat expanses of our lives, some at high speed, some at low, some prolonged, some foreshortened — but, inevitably, we all find the darkness.
Makes me think of when I was in the Music Man in 5th grade…”starts with B and that rhymes with P and that stands for pool.” Or something.
Let’s talk about the first time I played billiards in the basement of my uncle’s bait shop. I say “bait shop” because just saying “I played pool in the basement of a drug ring HQ” is what we in America call “coming on too strong.” Yeah. Family fun.
It was smoky. A quarter to two…two am. I wanted to cry. I was so tired. My eyes burned from the smoke. It saturated my clothes, my mouth, my mind. It was all I could think about. Until I saw him…across the room. He was playing billiards, a cigar tucked idly in his lips. Suddenly it wasn’t so smoky, suddenly I felt like playing billiards…
Clack clack clack. The balls roll around the table. Richie is in good form tonight. Might actually eat if all goes well. The mark he’s playing doesn’t know his ass from his stick. Everything might go well for once.
sliding, battling
over this artificial green
it’s a game we play
with many names
be it war or billiards
the end is just the same
a world full of angry men
all seemingly losers, betrayed
It was as simple as a game of billiards – one thing caused many other things. In other words, if the beginning was off, everything else would be as well. It was a wave, a motion that continued over time and grew. Something tiny might end up having an enormous effect later on. This was what terrified her.
The balls dispersed as the white one hit the blue one, the red one, the yellow one. It’s a game of billiards, they said. It’s meant to disrupt the order in the world.
Alfie ran his hand over the velvet green material of the pool table, smiling to himself. He turned to look at his girlfriend, who was still looking around the large basement, holding two suitcases in her hands.
“It’s gorgeous, dang.” She mumbled to herself, giggling. “And that pool table—or wait, do you call it billiards in England?”
He rolled his eyes, walking over and taking the bags from her. “No, silly, we call it pool.”
Ariana giggled again. “Sorry, babe.”
I’m not sure what a billiard is. It reminds me of a billboard, though. Billboards annoy me. So big and obnoxious. Couldn’t companies think of a more creative way to advertise? It’s not like people really pay attention to them other that to be annoyed by them.
Deep red walls, the fuzz of wine in my head and the billiard balls flung across the hushed felt table like eyeballs.
Allen leveraged himself up onto the billiard table, careful to keep one foot touching the ground. he tried not to make a face at the mess of colored balls scattered across the table top. Personally, this wasn’t his favorite version of the game.
His version usually involved a lot more personal space and sharp things. Very sharp things.
“Keep your elbow down, darling,” Veronica said, touching his arm as she glided past. Her hand settled on the crook of his elbow, then dropped down to smooth over his thigh as she maintained her perfect hostess smile.
He lowered his elbow a fraction of an inch and resisted the urge to scowl at her. “Is the coffee ready or did I miss something?”
“You didn’t miss a thing,” Veronica’s smile morphed into a smirk. “And you’re really not going to hit anything like that.”
“I’m not trying to,” Allen stopped. He aimed at the nearest pocket and jabbed the cue stick awkwardly in that direction. He felt the whistle of the wind right before he saw the actual result.
The dainty scone knife was buried in the face of the panicking Gareth and all the other players had instantly drawn their weapons.
Allen rolled off the edge of the table and snatched the gun from his ankle holster. Veronica joined him on the carpet, her eyes alight with an eerie blue fire. “You could have warned me!” he hissed.
“Oh but darling, it’s glorious!” She looped one arm through his. “I know you hate playing billiards, so don’t make such a face. They can’t see us anymore anyway.”
It was just a word from the music man as far as I was concern, that thing that was apparently more classy than pool. Then again the guy selling was a crook and the people buying were really uptight, so there you have it. I looked at the carpeted table and the cue in my hand and sighed. This was going to be a long night.
Lining up the shot, Alex bent over the pool table. She gently pulled the smooth pool stick back and followed through the shot. The multi-colored triangle shattered, making pieces fly all over the table. Three disappeared into deep depths of the pockets. From behind her, cheers exploded.
The pool table was in the most inconvienint corner of the poorly lit bar: next to the exit door leading to the smokers patio. As I sat on my torn faux leather barstool, leaning slightly into the brick wall behind me, I watched him line up a shot and miss the cue ball completely. I sipped more ciroc out of my straw, bored.
I suck at playing billiards. I just can’t get the coordination down. Don’t ask me the play. Most likely I will end up hitting myself with the pool stick and then scratching.
I could barely hear myself think over the clacking of billiards and drunken trashtalking. “You SCRATCHED that shit, MOTHERFUCKER!”
It wasn’t an ideal place to hear the news that the last five years of your life may as well have never happened. But she looked at me with a sort of sweet sincerity, even if I wasn’t supposed to get used to seeing it ever again.
She was playing pool at the bar with friends. Knocked in another ball, and another. She wasn’t very good at it, but lady luck was with her this night — which was good, because they were putting money on this game. Sadly, barely anyone put money down on her to win. It didn’t matter, though, really. She would still end up taking their money after killing them all.
I didn’t go out to billiards with friends. I didn’t want a beer, or an overly salted pretzel, or a bunch of pictures taken of me on a cellphone to be put up on the newest and “freshest” networking site. I stayed at home with a ninety-nine degree temperature, watching bad movies over and over again until I got tired of seeing Tom Cruise’s face everywhere.
The June heat should have been unbearable, but I felt cold instead. When I got sick, I was almost paralyzed. It was pathetic.
A noble and complicated game is billiards. I used to play in a couple’s tournament when I tended bar. We only played 8 ball, never the more sophisticated 9 ball or billiards.
whats the difference
a pretentious word for pool
pretentious like all the world can be
everyone wants to feel fancy and superior
the upper echelon
cream of the crop
well i hate this crop
MONSANTO
I shoot with the carved dexterous wooden craft, aiming for the pleasure of accuracy,
little progress is every made, the technique I lack, loathing for coordination,
the sea gull transports several treats in the luggage of the beak at once,
when he incidentally gulps down a serpent creature, too magnificent in breadth,
consequently he suffers, can it be that the overweening capacity of his esteems
render him valid in thinking he can bare weight, more weight, in transport,
with the stick, I craft a shot to the ulterior eight ball, it leaves me in scatter,
technique is a masterful art-form, constituting our successes, the solitude of satisfaction,
chiefly, to continue birds still flock, pool shots still fling!
I remember smoking in the billiard hall when I was first starting out. This was of course before the smoking ban. The sound of the balls cracking always seemed to make the music in the air sound better than it was. I was alright with that.
The bollards down town Brooklyn was pretty funn. I learne how to play pool with Kevin and my old boss. It was really great. Except I hate my boss now. My head hurts from thinking about it. Maybe I’ll play it again
I remember learning about reflections in Geometry class. I was really interested because I wondered if that was how people know how to predict which way a billiard ball will go when hit. I still haven’t been able to try it out, but I want to.
Triangular in shape, tight knitted bound together by sheer energy. That is how i can describe how this thing is between you and I. Only when a force strikes it does it scatter in different directions, but we always find a way to come back together.