Writing Prompt: Day 142

142.jpgDay 142 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about someone trying to improve their life.

Shannon: I decided I few weeks ago that I had to stop being a victim of what I wished I could change about my life, and instead I had to start hacking away at whatever I could impact for the time being. If I wanted to lose weight I didn’t need a gym membership, a personal trainer, or a dietitian. If I wanted a clean house I didn’t need a maid. If I wanted to start working toward my dream career I didn’t need more free time. I just had to stop waiting for everything to be place, because it was never going to be in place. The time I have now is all I will ever get, so I’ve been making the most of it and it feels good.

Erin: I am purging all of the things that are wasting my life including and not limited to:


People who make me sad more than they make me happy

Social media



Cooking anything that takes more than 15 minutes

Shopping for not essentials

Events I go to solely because I feel obliged

I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself now, but I trust it’s going to be good.

Make yourself better by writing about how someone else making them self better.


One thought on “Writing Prompt: Day 142

  1. The towering knocks resonated around the house, shaking drywall loose from the ceiling and making the stair’s crooked floorboards creak with the force. Lights along the hallways flickered dangerously as the brute continued to pound on the door like a giant wanting in, but I wasn’t having any of it. Furious as I’d ever been, I streaked down the hall and wrenched the door open just as his fist was about to make contact again. There was a red-hot light that burned behind his eyes, but was extinguished the moment he comprehended my enraged expression, shrinking down the first step in his heavy boots.
    “Sorry ma’am,” he whispered, snow settling in patches in his dusty-blond hair and flannel-covered shoulders. After a short pause, he pleaded with his eyes and sighed in the yellowish glow of the closest streetlight, “Look, you know the rules; you can’t leave your Christmas lights up, or at the very least, on after Christmas Day.” Sheepishly glancing around at the other cookie-cutter houses, he stared at his shoes and mumbled something about complaints without saying what they were or who said them.
    It took me a moment to regain my composure, even with him in a puddle on my front steps, but it was difficult. Frosty air bit at my bare nose and fingertips as I finally calmed to a reasonable level and spoke as monotonously as I could, “Well, you can shove your rules where the sun don’t shine, sweetie, ‘cause I ain’t takin’ those lights down anytime. They bring me joy and I intend to do what brings me joy more often this year. That’s my present to myself; I will improve my life.” A pause where the neighbour, couldn’t have told you his name but I know his lawn gnome collection scared the hell outta me, puffed wispy white clouds between us, silently deliberating.
    “Fine. But have them down by next week,” he nodded more to himself than me and wandered through the freshly-fallen snow to the clear sidewalk and disappeared in the storm. I just stood there for a long while smiling into the street; I’d won a battle against the system, ha!


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