Write a speech scene: You speaker will soon die. Maybe a battle is coming up, maybe he is to be executed, or maybe it will be suicide. What wise words will you share?

I'm not good at spur of the moment speeches. xD

“I am no orator, so forgive me if I should stumble on my own words. It will be short. I am like you, a simple man. And it is times like this that I thank you, for you for all of your courage, and your undying loyalty to your country and family. It is with these swords that we do not lay down the enemy, but protect our loved ones. For some this is no longer about saving lives, but carrying out the memories of those you have lost, so as to let them live on in your hearts.”
“It was in times of darkness that we have failed ourselves. Let not the shadow of the enemy creep into our hearts and taint that image we so desperately protect with our lives. Let our swords be the light, which guides us to victory. Or let it guide us through death. Fight with your hearts, your mind, and sword. Now, my brothers, band with me this final hour. Let our foes quiver in our wake!”

Nae, your so-called honour, I donnae regret a single thing. The bitch had it coming, she did! What, the way that slut was lookin' at other blokes! Lookin', I say, but 'twas more than mere lookin'! I dinnae know if you ever loved a woman, but I loved her so! And then I came home from the mines, an' I find her with another man! She had it coming, I say! Any man would'a done the same! Let go of me you son-of-a-whore, I've got my last words to say! You'll not hang me yet! Let go! I don't regret a single thing! Let go, you fucken sonofa-! Get that rope off me! No! No! NOT A SINGLE TH-*crack*

A man in long khaki jeans and a nice shirt climbed up onto a table in the middle of the room and whistled for attention. The on-lookers gave him a moments consideration and then rolled their eyes, another drunk it seemed.

"Friends," the man began and then louder, "Friends, I'd like to thank you for this fine evening of companionship. It has been great fun to think I was a normal person, and could be satisfied by normal means. But alas, it is not so."

The people looked around, no one talked like that, did they? Who was this guy, surely THEY had never seen him before, why did he call them friends?

"Unfortunately, I must now announce that I will be leaving." A few people looked away, grumbling about the interuption to their conversations. But those who didn't gasped in horror as the man drew his hand from his pocket, a small revolver clasped firmly in his grip.

"Goodbye," he said loudly, "I'm leaving, because I am bored." Raising the gun he pointed it at his head.

A couple of loud shouts of undistinguishable origin and meaning were heard before the loud explosion of the gun caused a deathly silence. The man's body fell from the table blood splattering across the floor as the audience looked on in horror. A man in the corner had the presence of mind to take out his cell phone, but then couldn't seem to figure out what to do with it. Behind the bar, the barkeep stood motionless, a mug of beer overflowing onto the floor. Outside the snow kept falling, undisturbed on the busy New York streets, as though nothing had happened to destroy the innocence of the night.

Excellence In WRITING

"Well, this is it." I looked around the room at everyone staring at me. "My time has come, I have no more than five minutes before I'm gone from you forever. Don't worry, you'll all be taken care of. But before I do leave, I have a few things I want to say."

"Vincent," I turned to him, "You were my first. I always loved you the most. I never thought I'd see the day when we said goodbye, but here it is. I don't regret living my life around you, all of you. You were important to me, each of you, Vincent, Leo, Claude. I spent my life caring for you, finding you. But as I lay here dying, I can't help but wonder what life would have been like if Vincent had never come into it. If I'd taken a different path, maybe gotten married, had children. I spent my life obsessing over all of you, talking to you when I was lonely. Though I know you'll never be able to pass on this message, it has to be said."

"I lost sight of what was important in my life. My neighbors hated me, my one true love left me. When you begin to focus on something too much, that's when it hits you. That's when you are lost. Vincent, you started it, and the rest of you finished it. Now, 70 years after you first came along, Vincent, we are all saying goodbye. My time is come, and so has yours. I'd tell you to move on with your lives, but that's not possible."

I looked around again at my life. I turned from one face to the next. Vincent Van Goh's self portrait, Leonardo Da Vinci's Mona Lisa, Pablo Picasso's Three Musicians. I had spent 70 years aquiring these and more, and it had brougth me nothing but pain, a need for more. I breathed in deep the smell of priceless art and gasoline. Then I raised the match, struck it, and let it fall to the floor.

BRAVO!!!!!

Well done Hawkish...

I couldn't agree more with that award. Bravo!

I Loved this concept, and that's why I gave the award. But, i must admit, something about it just seemed wrong...it was awkward in a very big way, and it was driving me nuts... I read it several times and finally noticed what the problem was... The POV is paradoxical, in fact literally impossible.

This will make you laugh.

It is written in first person AND in past-tense. Which is impossible (hence the paradox). If the guy dies at the end, he would not be able to tell us the story of what happened after the fact (past tense).

This would read MUCH better in third person.