6 posts tagged “prompt”

I entered a contest where they gave the first sentence and I had to continue from there. It is to be no longer than 200 words. The bold is the line given and the rest is what I came up with. Enjoy!

He smelled something burning.

Ah yes, that sweet smell. It made his mouth water and the hair stand up all over his body. Since Nick was a child, he craved fire. What his parents thought was a “cooking accident” at the age of 15 was no accident at all. Nick watched the flames lick the wall and consume the home he was born in. He had never seen anything like it.

Nick stood on the sidewalk, mesmerized by the hot glow. He wanted to reach out for it, embrace it, and let the fire consume him. He remembered that day like it was yesterday.

There were a few other fires and no one could deny Nick had a problem. He had some medication and regular shrink visits…

Then, the doctors said he was better. Cured was the word they used.  Everyone could breathe a little easier.  What would his doctor’s say if they saw him now? What would they do if knew how he felt?

Nick inhaled deeply.

He put on his helmet and dashed into the flames wearing the fireman uniform his father passed down…

This is how it works: you get 5 words and with these 5 words you have to write an entry. The words might or might not be related. You decide how to combine them, and how long your entry will be. You tag your entry with 5wordchallenge and whatever other tags you like. Finally, you put the words in bold.

This week's challenge: carpet, jury, pasta, shapeless, whey

The jury sat unmoving. Tension filled the air.

The whey sat in a bowl on the courtroom table.

Next to it a plate of dirty noodles.

At the prosecution table sat a woman, arms crossed at her chest.

It had been proven her child put down whey instead of milk for the family cat.

That issue would be dealt with later.

She couldn't believe it had come to this.

The courtroom door opened with a bang.

A shapeless man stood with the blinding sun behind him.

Finally, he stepped forward and her husband came into focus.

Then, he spoke...

"I confess. I spilled the pasta on the living room carpet."

Write about a person whose reputation rests on the appearance of an inanimate object.

What is her problem? It's my body - and if I want a tongue ring I should get one. She says it's unsanitary and looks disgusting. Well, that's why it's in my mouth, not hers. She always turns everything around on her. Like the whole world revolves around her and what she thinks. I am my own person. I like to express myself.

Why does she feel the need to control everything I do? "Over-Protective Mom" does not come close to what I went through. I'm sure it's hard losing control over your daughter but at some point you have to let her be who she is... I mean, I have been WELL behaved compared to most and she doesn't see it. I may have been five minutes late for curfew a few times but let's face it, our whole family is late for everything. It's in my blood.

Write about a person whose reputation rests on the appearance of an inanimate object.

How could she have done this? After carrying her for nine months in my very own body, raising her right, and teaching her right from wrong- she has the audacity to go out and get a tongue ring.  What will this do to my career?  What will people say? As an elected town official, I have plenty to worry about. This town is so small and judgmental. And now I have that glistening piece of metal staring at me from my own daughter's mouth.

We are only a two and a half months away from the next election. What if someone finds out before then? I'll be mortified. I wish I could force her to take it out. But she has the magic number working for her: 18. What a horrific piece of junk? It'll ruin my image. And everything I've worked toward.

If someone judges you for this- chances are these people should be going home and looking in their own kids' mouths. They might be surprised.  She had said. Pah. What does she know? If she only knew what I've had to do to get us here....

The empty halls echoed with laughter. There was a TV blasting static behind a heavy door. It sounded like the TV was being smothered by a pillow. The flickering lights and the pale yellow walls made her uneasy. Why did she always travel alone?

Her previous life had prepared her for a life on the road. A life of independence. She could trust no one. And she was fine with that. A life of solitude came with many tricks that made Solitude easier to digest:

Always have a book. If you are reading, no one will bother you. Less questions that way

Keep a heavy hooded sweatshirt with you. It'll not only keep you warm but it makes a great pillow.

When dining alone, act strong and make it look intentional. Like the choice is yours.

She had written these rules in her journal. It was with her all the time. Occasionally, she would add notes, write or draw. The distraction served it's sweet purpose.

In her room, she used the shiny brass lock on the door. It was heavy duty. The original lock had been broken. Was someone trying to get in? Was someone trying to get out?

Sitting in the window, she folded her knees into her chest. She peered out the glass at the surf below. She couldn't go on like this. That she was sure of...

This weeks prompt:
Write a scene in which the dramatic tension revolves around a misspelling: a road sign, the name on a birthday cake, the directions to a doctor's office, a word in a spelling bee...

This was it. Amber was about to go up and receive her very first trophy. Ever.

Softball was fun but mostly boring. It passed the time. Amber was feeling a little more excited about the sport as she approached the head table where the announcer was handing the trophies out.

He called her name. Spectators clapped. Amber walked to the table. She flashed that famous smile, shook his hand, and proudly received her trophy.

Upon arriving home, Amber polished her trophy. She wiped the shiny plastic softball and was careful not to hurt the girl with the bat that stood on top. She shined the metal plate and realized it wasn't her own name on it. The plate read "Amanda" instead.

Amanda was her little sister's name.

As you can imagine this upset Amber. She cried and wanted to "know why Amanda gets everything and takes  e v e r y t h i n g ?"  Up until that point, Amanda had taken her room, her clothes and the rest of her ice cream.

It was just not fair.