Group Banter Race to a million

Maddiemoiselle said:
Also. Thank you to every single one of my friends for accepting me and being so good to me. My long weekend ended up being filled with ugly dysphoria all because of one encounter with somebody. I shut down for a day and had some good cries. But you all have an ability to bring me back to the light without even trying. Love you all❤️
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Big hugs. You’re wonderful and never forget it
 
youngbustyredhead said:
Also this needs to be made into a b&w French art film
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Screenplay: The Perfect Stone

INT. FRENCH COUNTRYSIDE - DAY - BLACK & WHITE
The camera sweeps over a quiet, rolling landscape. MADDIE (20s, introspective, slightly unkempt) walks a dirt path, hands in pockets. The world feels still, timeless.

NARRATION (V.O.)
One day, I found the perfect stone.
Maddie pauses, crouching by a stream. She picks up a smooth, flat rock, turning it over in her hands. It’s flawless—round, balanced, made for skipping. Her eyes spark with awe.

NARRATION (V.O.)
Too perfect.

CLOSE-UP: THE STONE
It gleams faintly in the monochrome light, almost radiant with purpose.
MADDIE
(whispering)
You were born to dance on water.
She slips the stone into her jacket pocket, patting it gently, and walks on. The camera lingers on the pocket, the faint bulge of the stone.

EXT. LAKE - DAY - ONE WEEK LATER
Maddie stands by a still lake, its surface like glass. She reaches into her pocket, but her face drops. She checks the other pocket. Her bag. Panic sets in.

NARRATION (V.O.)
But I lost it.She kneels, searching the ground desperately, as if the stone might reappear. The camera pulls back, showing the vast, uncaring lake. Maddie’s shoulders sag.

EXT. STREAM - DAY - MONTHS LATER
Maddie walks the same path, older now, wearier. She stops at the stream, staring at the rocks. She picks one up, inspects it, and tosses it aside. It’s not the same.

NARRATION (V.O.)
A true tragedy.She gazes at the horizon, the weight of loss in her eyes. The camera tilts down to the stream, where countless rocks lie, none perfect.

FADE TO BLACK.NARRATION (V.O.)
Some things are made to be thrown… but not forgotten.

END.
 
For example

images
 
Tash26 said:
Screenplay: The Perfect Stone

INT. FRENCH COUNTRYSIDE - DAY - BLACK & WHITE
The camera sweeps over a quiet, rolling landscape. MADDIE (20s, introspective, slightly unkempt) walks a dirt path, hands in pockets. The world feels still, timeless.

NARRATION (V.O.)
One day, I found the perfect stone.
Maddie pauses, crouching by a stream. She picks up a smooth, flat rock, turning it over in her hands. It’s flawless—round, balanced, made for skipping. Her eyes spark with awe.

NARRATION (V.O.)
Too perfect.

CLOSE-UP: THE STONE
It gleams faintly in the monochrome light, almost radiant with purpose.
MADDIE
(whispering)
You were born to dance on water.
She slips the stone into her jacket pocket, patting it gently, and walks on. The camera lingers on the pocket, the faint bulge of the stone.

EXT. LAKE - DAY - ONE WEEK LATER
Maddie stands by a still lake, its surface like glass. She reaches into her pocket, but her face drops. She checks the other pocket. Her bag. Panic sets in.

NARRATION (V.O.)
But I lost it.She kneels, searching the ground desperately, as if the stone might reappear. The camera pulls back, showing the vast, uncaring lake. Maddie’s shoulders sag.

EXT. STREAM - DAY - MONTHS LATER
Maddie walks the same path, older now, wearier. She stops at the stream, staring at the rocks. She picks one up, inspects it, and tosses it aside. It’s not the same.

NARRATION (V.O.)
A true tragedy.She gazes at the horizon, the weight of loss in her eyes. The camera tilts down to the stream, where countless rocks lie, none perfect.

FADE TO BLACK.NARRATION (V.O.)
Some things are made to be thrown… but not forgotten.

END.
Click to expand...
*weeps silently*
 
Tash26 said:
Screenplay: The Perfect Stone

INT. FRENCH COUNTRYSIDE - DAY - BLACK & WHITE
The camera sweeps over a quiet, rolling landscape. MADDIE (20s, introspective, slightly unkempt) walks a dirt path, hands in pockets. The world feels still, timeless.

NARRATION (V.O.)
One day, I found the perfect stone.
Maddie pauses, crouching by a stream. She picks up a smooth, flat rock, turning it over in her hands. It’s flawless—round, balanced, made for skipping. Her eyes spark with awe.

NARRATION (V.O.)
Too perfect.

CLOSE-UP: THE STONE
It gleams faintly in the monochrome light, almost radiant with purpose.
MADDIE
(whispering)
You were born to dance on water.
She slips the stone into her jacket pocket, patting it gently, and walks on. The camera lingers on the pocket, the faint bulge of the stone.

EXT. LAKE - DAY - ONE WEEK LATER
Maddie stands by a still lake, its surface like glass. She reaches into her pocket, but her face drops. She checks the other pocket. Her bag. Panic sets in.

NARRATION (V.O.)
But I lost it.She kneels, searching the ground desperately, as if the stone might reappear. The camera pulls back, showing the vast, uncaring lake. Maddie’s shoulders sag.

EXT. STREAM - DAY - MONTHS LATER
Maddie walks the same path, older now, wearier. She stops at the stream, staring at the rocks. She picks one up, inspects it, and tosses it aside. It’s not the same.

NARRATION (V.O.)
A true tragedy.She gazes at the horizon, the weight of loss in her eyes. The camera tilts down to the stream, where countless rocks lie, none perfect.

FADE TO BLACK.NARRATION (V.O.)
Some things are made to be thrown… but not forgotten.

END.
Click to expand...
Yup. This is pretty much how it went.
 
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