- When writing, I'm unusually cynical, much more so than in real life. One thing I've caught myself doing very often is adding a cynical or insulting sidenote. Some translated examples:
I wrote:
[Excerpt from an essay about a very unintelligent Minister of Education:] "A book could be written about her disastrous policies so far, but she would not be able to read it."
[Excerpt from a fictional letter to a former premier who ruined our economy:] "You're saying we need to do what you say to keep up with China, but looking at our marathons, we can't even keep up with Ethiopia."
[Excerpt from a short story about an incompetent, debaucherous king:] "The noblemen in the room applauded mindlessly, no doubt putting the rest of their efforts into thinking of ways to murder him."
- Usually, my writings have something to do with power, politics or religion, and a very bleak way of combining those:
Here's something I made up. I wrote:
"Not even God himself could have saved the miserable structure that once stood out like a rusty giant over what was once the wealthiest city in the known world. As the priest stood over the decaying corpse of Prince Alfred, whose eyes were beginning to rot and sink into their sockets, the ceiling came down. All inside were killed by debris. After that, what remained of the cathedral was ignored out of shame."
- Sometimes, the main character is torn between what he feels is right and what he's expected to do.
Here's a translation from something I wrote in Dutch a few years ago. I wrote:
"The moment President Fereine entered the room, even the most hardened and experienced ministers remained completely quiet. Charles noticed that he was beginning to sweat, and the minister sitting next to him, Hiëronymus Alfonse, was biting his lip. "Listen, we have a problem," said President Fereine bluntly. Almost as if there was an agreement, everyone remained eerily quiet.
"If you don't want to tell me what you think is the problem," she said bitterly, staring madly at Charles, "I'll tell it." Charles felt very uncomfortable.
"If I knew-" he tried to say, but she interrupted him. Almost spitting out the whisky she was drinking, she lashed out at him. "It's that senile idiot right next to you, Charles. You know he was appointed on your request, and you know he's been ruining it for several months now. God, it's like I'm talking to a group of deaf ret*ds."
For a moment, Charles stared at the glass of water in front of him. He had expected her to blame him, but he had not expected her to blame his best friend for 'destructive policies' she had personally designed.
I'm quite interested in anyone's stories if they want to tell me about them. I'll be going through that one thread that seems to have some short ones soon.