did we fasten it? Tightly? Check will you. I mean, if anyone gets in, it will be my worst nightmare. A hand across the face, drawing me from sleep with a sudden jerk. Best check.
E.P. Hantera
Deadbolt. Is there really such a word? Strange but inviting. Odd but interesting. Never would I have thought to write about this word but yet I am. Deadbolt. How absurd.
The deadbold seeme to laugh at her. She couldn’t get past it. It was her future. Immoveable. She had no part in it. Someone else had decided she would never see the inside of the that room but they would never stop her from wondering what was inside. She had made bad choices along the way. She was er own deadbolt.
Kate Hanks
The man with the hook for a hand approached up the walkway. It was after dark. At first, he’d only been in her dreams, slashing at her with his razor-sharpened appendage, causing Marcie to awaken on many a night in a cold sweat. Then, a few days ago, Marcie had started seeing this man out of the corner of her eyes, lurking in the shadows, behind bushes, trees, or behind parked cars. His presence (was she imagining it?) always gave her an icy chill down her back.
Presently, he was real. She could see him dead – on, through the window, right now. He got to her doorstep and Marcie, in her panic, locked the deadbolt.
The man with the hook for a hand tried the door (with his good hand). The door held closed. He tried again. The deadbolt held. “Oh, fooey!” he yelled, and he sulked off back down the lane.
She tried to unlock the door, but the deadbolt was hooked. She needed to get into the room, because her dreams were locked inside. Her future was behind that solid mahogany door & all that was in her way was the motherfucking deadbolt. Deadbolts had always hindered her.
Nate
The deadbolt locked behind him and the hallway ahead of him was dark and moist. He hesitaded but he took his first step and quickly regretted going on. As he went to turn around he couldnt find the
Stephanie
deadbolt, the dead bolt that keeps the door shut was heavily rusted on the old, creaky house, no one has ever gone this way before its off limits and our parents warn us from going near it. Our friends all tell us scary stories of it being haunted a dmurders hanging round the old house.
izzy
i already wrote about this word. there isn’t much more i can say about it. if i knew an accurate definition, or if i was at least sure of what i think it is, then i would continue. However, I’m just going to think about food or something else. or that i have to finish my essay. yup.
Deadbolt. Such a meaningless word. What exactly is a deadbolt? Dead…bolt. What does it even mean?
maria rassie
Clunk.
The sound of the deadbolt slotting home was the loudest sound I’d ever heard.
The silence afterward was a gravity well of its own– it seemed to draw all sound into it, a vacuum which left my ears ringing.
The wall was already flowing together, closing up over the door. I reached out, stupidly, to scrabble my fingers against the cold steel: my last fleeting connection to the world outside. Then the wall closed seamlessly under my fingertips, and I was alone in the room with no door, no windows, no walls. Only a curving white expanse as amorphous as a dream held me prisoner.
Ariel
screwdriver death tornillo sonic
rox
The door is shut. Deadbolt in place, now way to get the hell out. But you trapped yourself inside, didn’t you? Suffucating in the house that you set on fire.
Someone told me that once. Said I needed to let him in, needed to let him put out the burning house. Maybe I should have listnened, maybe I should have tried. Maybe that house would still be standing if I had.
As in a door i’m guessing, to keep somebody out or somebody in. It’s within one’s own opinion who is protecting oneself from whom.
Billy
a deadbolt? i’m pretty sure that is some type of lock. i don’t really care too much about this topic, or the fact that I am bound to writing sixty seconds worth of bullshit about a deadbolt. I can’t even say if I truly know what the fuck it is.
Rachel
Deadbolt from the scene, a dead bolt he ran bolting, dead. ANd before him the lake and behind him the stars, and between nothing of happiness, between them his whole life, his yesterday, his don’t tell me don’t say it, please. His. And never again.
emily
the thief got into the house breaking the deadbolt, i just looked up what a deadbolt is! new word of the day!
mina
The deadbolt was the one obstacle to his success. How was he supposed to escape the clutches of his pursuers if the door wouldn’t open?
Kimberly Burton
Deadbolts are cool. They hold stuff together. deadbolts are heavy duty for heavy duty people. Why are they called deadbolts? hmmm I guess I’ll never know. Dead dead dead dead bolts.
Deadbolts mke me think of scary movies wn someone needs extra protection from harm they are anicipating. I don’t even like the word, it has “dead” in it.
Alex
rusty, hanging from loose screws. It was designed to keep people in; now it kept them out. Cry out to be photographed, cry attention to the artist’s eye…
DHT
I dont know what is behind this door but I really want to know. I can’t get through because I can’t just pass through, but rather go through. My archnemisis is the deadbolt that wont let me get through the door. It seems we are an an impass, because I want in and he wont give up.
gabi
:)
Yana
A bolt engaged by turning a knob or key rather then by spring action.
did i get it right? i think so.
kate
dead bolt, not there, a screw, something to do with making something, ive rarely heard of it, help! i dont know what it is!
a bolt engaged by turning a knob, key
kate
Deadbolt? I don’t use this word. We have deadlocks here in Australia so not far from it I guess. Sounds like a great name for an online gaming character, or even an insult for someone. “P’sorf, ya deadbolt”. Yep, that works.
Dayle Morrison
where lightning goes to die.
where is that?
probably out at sea, it plunges itself into its watery depths, hoping to smother its innate warmth
it doesn’t.
the dead bolt could not reincarnate, but it lived on as a zombie.
Andy DaCosta
“The deadbolt,” I explained, “symbolizes trust — the trust that is implicit between us. If you break the lock and look inside that shed, we won’t have that trust!” Placing myself between her and the door, I gently slid the sheet metal back to rest at the edge of the frame. “What do you expect to find in there anyway, bodies?” I said jokingly… enough, I hoped.
I don’t know much about a deadbolt. Is it dead? I mean, it’s a bolt. I believe it’s a lock, really. Or maybe, It’s a deadly lightening bolt. Who knows? I don’t know much about a deadbolt.
Jackie
the deadbolt moved slowly as she scrunched her feet up into her blankets even further. How was it even possible? She had made sure it was secure when she got into bed and now her worst nightmare was becoming a reality.
Rachel
He felt along his neck. It protruded, cold and hard, with sharp corners. His mind raced. “My God…” he thought. He thought of the book he was forced to read in high school, that he felt was just a figment of Mary Shelley’s imagination. Had someone really created such an atrocity of his body? Scenes flashed through his mind. A scream of tires. A hail of glass shards. Red. Everything red. And then, blackness. And now… this?
sturdy. strong. definite. it takes pure intention to open or close, once you turn it and the deadbolt clicks there is no turning back. an open door is, despite anything, better than a closed one.
going nowhere. stuck. hopeless. desperation. those are the words i felt living at home last year. my feet were deadbolted to the floor while my head was floating in the sky. the contrasting ideals and body parts led to months of internal discontent.
CJ
Dead. Bolt. I wrote about this already. I need a new word. =) It’s interesting that this is the first word that comes up. Why? So dreary. A dash of suspense.
I have no idea what this means. However, I am sure if I put it together, I could figure it out. Dead means death, and bolt equals lightning. Death – Lightning! That’s so awesome! So awesome!!! So death lightning kills things?! SOO EPIC!
selena
I walked through the entryway leading to their house and I knocked on the door. There was a familiar feeling, like I had been there before. I saw the deadbolt lock and watched its eyes glare at me from behind metal pupils, angrily.
Rachael
when somebody dies from an accident with a bolt and when the doctor performs the autopsy they classify that as a deadbolt situation and then they have to remove the bolt from the corpses forehead after that they have to start a whole investigation on how the accident occurred.
Itzel Romero
It’s incredible. That sudden tasteless end. I can’t stand to recall it. Dead. Bolt. It should really be two words. Just so you can say it with a definite air as you realize the door is locked. The door you want to get through. What a rude discovery. If only I could get past that. Dead. Bolt. Something is there. On the other side.
did we fasten it? Tightly? Check will you. I mean, if anyone gets in, it will be my worst nightmare. A hand across the face, drawing me from sleep with a sudden jerk. Best check.
Deadbolt. Is there really such a word? Strange but inviting. Odd but interesting. Never would I have thought to write about this word but yet I am. Deadbolt. How absurd.
The deadbold seeme to laugh at her. She couldn’t get past it. It was her future. Immoveable. She had no part in it. Someone else had decided she would never see the inside of the that room but they would never stop her from wondering what was inside. She had made bad choices along the way. She was er own deadbolt.
The man with the hook for a hand approached up the walkway. It was after dark. At first, he’d only been in her dreams, slashing at her with his razor-sharpened appendage, causing Marcie to awaken on many a night in a cold sweat. Then, a few days ago, Marcie had started seeing this man out of the corner of her eyes, lurking in the shadows, behind bushes, trees, or behind parked cars. His presence (was she imagining it?) always gave her an icy chill down her back.
Presently, he was real. She could see him dead – on, through the window, right now. He got to her doorstep and Marcie, in her panic, locked the deadbolt.
The man with the hook for a hand tried the door (with his good hand). The door held closed. He tried again. The deadbolt held. “Oh, fooey!” he yelled, and he sulked off back down the lane.
She tried to unlock the door, but the deadbolt was hooked. She needed to get into the room, because her dreams were locked inside. Her future was behind that solid mahogany door & all that was in her way was the motherfucking deadbolt. Deadbolts had always hindered her.
The deadbolt locked behind him and the hallway ahead of him was dark and moist. He hesitaded but he took his first step and quickly regretted going on. As he went to turn around he couldnt find the
deadbolt, the dead bolt that keeps the door shut was heavily rusted on the old, creaky house, no one has ever gone this way before its off limits and our parents warn us from going near it. Our friends all tell us scary stories of it being haunted a dmurders hanging round the old house.
i already wrote about this word. there isn’t much more i can say about it. if i knew an accurate definition, or if i was at least sure of what i think it is, then i would continue. However, I’m just going to think about food or something else. or that i have to finish my essay. yup.
Deadbolt. Such a meaningless word. What exactly is a deadbolt? Dead…bolt. What does it even mean?
Clunk.
The sound of the deadbolt slotting home was the loudest sound I’d ever heard.
The silence afterward was a gravity well of its own– it seemed to draw all sound into it, a vacuum which left my ears ringing.
The wall was already flowing together, closing up over the door. I reached out, stupidly, to scrabble my fingers against the cold steel: my last fleeting connection to the world outside. Then the wall closed seamlessly under my fingertips, and I was alone in the room with no door, no windows, no walls. Only a curving white expanse as amorphous as a dream held me prisoner.
screwdriver death tornillo sonic
The door is shut. Deadbolt in place, now way to get the hell out. But you trapped yourself inside, didn’t you? Suffucating in the house that you set on fire.
Someone told me that once. Said I needed to let him in, needed to let him put out the burning house. Maybe I should have listnened, maybe I should have tried. Maybe that house would still be standing if I had.
As in a door i’m guessing, to keep somebody out or somebody in. It’s within one’s own opinion who is protecting oneself from whom.
a deadbolt? i’m pretty sure that is some type of lock. i don’t really care too much about this topic, or the fact that I am bound to writing sixty seconds worth of bullshit about a deadbolt. I can’t even say if I truly know what the fuck it is.
Deadbolt from the scene, a dead bolt he ran bolting, dead. ANd before him the lake and behind him the stars, and between nothing of happiness, between them his whole life, his yesterday, his don’t tell me don’t say it, please. His. And never again.
the thief got into the house breaking the deadbolt, i just looked up what a deadbolt is! new word of the day!
The deadbolt was the one obstacle to his success. How was he supposed to escape the clutches of his pursuers if the door wouldn’t open?
Deadbolts are cool. They hold stuff together. deadbolts are heavy duty for heavy duty people. Why are they called deadbolts? hmmm I guess I’ll never know. Dead dead dead dead bolts.
Deadbolts mke me think of scary movies wn someone needs extra protection from harm they are anicipating. I don’t even like the word, it has “dead” in it.
rusty, hanging from loose screws. It was designed to keep people in; now it kept them out. Cry out to be photographed, cry attention to the artist’s eye…
I dont know what is behind this door but I really want to know. I can’t get through because I can’t just pass through, but rather go through. My archnemisis is the deadbolt that wont let me get through the door. It seems we are an an impass, because I want in and he wont give up.
:)
A bolt engaged by turning a knob or key rather then by spring action.
did i get it right? i think so.
dead bolt, not there, a screw, something to do with making something, ive rarely heard of it, help! i dont know what it is!
a bolt engaged by turning a knob, key
Deadbolt? I don’t use this word. We have deadlocks here in Australia so not far from it I guess. Sounds like a great name for an online gaming character, or even an insult for someone. “P’sorf, ya deadbolt”. Yep, that works.
where lightning goes to die.
where is that?
probably out at sea, it plunges itself into its watery depths, hoping to smother its innate warmth
it doesn’t.
deadbolt
lock you in
perfect control
hate poetry
stop making rhymes
I can’t lock nothin in
can’t do shit about my life
except me
nothing else I have a say in.
I cry and nobody cares
stupid teenage problems
the dead bolt could not reincarnate, but it lived on as a zombie.
“The deadbolt,” I explained, “symbolizes trust — the trust that is implicit between us. If you break the lock and look inside that shed, we won’t have that trust!” Placing myself between her and the door, I gently slid the sheet metal back to rest at the edge of the frame. “What do you expect to find in there anyway, bodies?” I said jokingly… enough, I hoped.
I don’t know much about a deadbolt. Is it dead? I mean, it’s a bolt. I believe it’s a lock, really. Or maybe, It’s a deadly lightening bolt. Who knows? I don’t know much about a deadbolt.
the deadbolt moved slowly as she scrunched her feet up into her blankets even further. How was it even possible? She had made sure it was secure when she got into bed and now her worst nightmare was becoming a reality.
He felt along his neck. It protruded, cold and hard, with sharp corners. His mind raced. “My God…” he thought. He thought of the book he was forced to read in high school, that he felt was just a figment of Mary Shelley’s imagination. Had someone really created such an atrocity of his body? Scenes flashed through his mind. A scream of tires. A hail of glass shards. Red. Everything red. And then, blackness. And now… this?
The lock clicked into place as I slammed my hand against the cold metal. My breath came out in ragged gasps as it escaped my chest.
sturdy. strong. definite. it takes pure intention to open or close, once you turn it and the deadbolt clicks there is no turning back. an open door is, despite anything, better than a closed one.
going nowhere. stuck. hopeless. desperation. those are the words i felt living at home last year. my feet were deadbolted to the floor while my head was floating in the sky. the contrasting ideals and body parts led to months of internal discontent.
Dead. Bolt. I wrote about this already. I need a new word. =) It’s interesting that this is the first word that comes up. Why? So dreary. A dash of suspense.
I have no idea what this means. However, I am sure if I put it together, I could figure it out. Dead means death, and bolt equals lightning. Death – Lightning! That’s so awesome! So awesome!!! So death lightning kills things?! SOO EPIC!
I walked through the entryway leading to their house and I knocked on the door. There was a familiar feeling, like I had been there before. I saw the deadbolt lock and watched its eyes glare at me from behind metal pupils, angrily.
when somebody dies from an accident with a bolt and when the doctor performs the autopsy they classify that as a deadbolt situation and then they have to remove the bolt from the corpses forehead after that they have to start a whole investigation on how the accident occurred.
It’s incredible. That sudden tasteless end. I can’t stand to recall it. Dead. Bolt. It should really be two words. Just so you can say it with a definite air as you realize the door is locked. The door you want to get through. What a rude discovery. If only I could get past that. Dead. Bolt. Something is there. On the other side.