Tag Archives: 365 days of writing prompts

Writing Prompt: Day 5

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Day 5 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Your Character was tricked into drinking a potion and is slowly realizing the effects.

Erin: “Do you want to go get some ice cream,” a random girl came up to ask me.

“I’m Trish, nice to meet you,” I sassed picking at the cherry tomatoes I had left on my plate.

“I don’t get you. Is that supposed to be funny,” her left eyebrow rose into a point. “I’ve seen you eat ice cream, I know you like sweets.”

“If that is not the creepiest thing I have ever heard, I don’t know what is? If you think someone gets this body by eating that junk you are insane, I would not touch anything more rich that fro-yo. I’m waiting for my boyfriend to come back. Please leave me alone.”

The waiter came to pick up our dishes and looked to me as the girl said, “You don’t have to wait any longer… I’m right here.” She plopped down into the seat and let her leg shoot out to the side just like Nick always did.

“Another drink,” the waiter asked with a wink and I looked to my empty glass. The drop that was left burned into my memory. I needed to know what was happening to me.

“What did you do to me,” I shouted and everyone stopped talking. When I looked at the crowd they hurt my eyes. “What did you do to all of these people,” I whispered hoping they would get back to chatting.

“I’ve done nothing to them. I just wanted to help you diminish your blindness,” he let a small chuckle slip. “Alcohol makes most of us more honest.”

“Why do they all look so hideous all of a sudden,” I tried to rub away the confusion from my eyes.

He shook his head at my attempt, “They have always looked that way, deep down. This is just the first time you’re seeing their true self and not their image.”

“You look the same,” I argued.

“My attractiveness is average, being equal inside and out is common for us.”

I pulled out my phone and turned the camera on myself. Half of my body was missing. The half that was left was covered in blisters and warts. Down my center was a giant festering scab. “No,” the screen of my phone shattered on the floor. “This can’t be,” I paused trying to figure out what my eyes were seeing. “If what you’re saying is true most people are ugly.”

“Not everywhere, this is a party full of fashion models. You should see a nursery. Children glow so brightly they could blind you,” his smile gave be a glimpse of what must be life changing.

“But adults all get uglier,” I stammered.

“Not your boyfriend,” he alluded.

“He is a girl,” I faded off realizing what my words meant.

“She sure is beautiful though, isn’t she?”

She was absolutely radiant, easily the most attractive in the room. “Yeah.”

Shannon: “This is crazy man,” I messaged Carl’s shoulder. “I can’t believe we are both going to be in the finale. You ready for me to pummel any chance you had at the prize money?”

“Yeah, yeah we’ll see about that. Do want me to get you a drink to celebrate?”

“We’re going out in a few minutes, we don’t have time to drink. We can celebrate after.”

“Not together. You know by the end of this, no matter who crosses that finish line, we’re not coming out friends. This may be our last chance.”

Though I wanted to argue we were different than past contestants, deep down I knew I was just in denial. “Fine, one drink,” I gave in.

“Ha, ha,” he raised his fist as he walked to the private bar in the room.

He soon returned to hand me a small glass. “May the best man win,” I joked before we clinked glasses.

“Oh I will,” he smiled, before we both took a drink.

I winced at the aftertaste. “Is this wine? It’s awful.”

“It was the strongest thing I could find,” he flashed his teeth having a hard time getting it down too. “I need it for my nerves, I’ve got to finish it,” he took another swig. “What, you’re not a little on edge?”

“I don’t know, I guess I feel a little funny.”

“It’s the nerves man, drink up,” he advised. “You’ll feel more relaxed.

I nodded and took another big sip, and it felt as if I was trying to swallow acid this time. “No,” I shook my head. “That isn’t safe, how are you still drinking it?”

“You baby, come on. It’s time to go,” he tugged at my arm to lead us to line up. When I looked down he looked like he had grown two arms. Then with a heavy head I looked up at his face. He had two of those too.

“I think I’m sick,” I slurred my words.

“You look fine,” he didn’t stop tugging at me. How was I still walking? I looked forward and the room kept getting smaller every time I blinked. I tried to shield my face from the colors zooming in at me from all directions. “Stop it, you’re acting crazy,” he slapped my hand down and tightened his grip on my upper arm.

“You did this,” I slurred again.

He shook his head, “You drank bad wine. Good luck,” he slapped my back as a bright light blinded my eyes.

The gate was open again. “Let the games begin,” I heard in an unending echo in my ears.

5 days down! If we can do that amount of days 72 more times, we will have succeeded. Share your ideas in the comments if you’d like, we’d like to read them. 🙂  

Writing Prompt: Day 4

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Day 4 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Have a character describe the person they admire most using all, or mostly, similes and metaphors.

Erin: The subway was where I always saw him.

He was a photograph. The picture was of a laughing baby. The print displayed lovingly on a grandmother’s wall would be no less uplifting placed on the top of a landfill. No matter what photographs were next to that one in the album, the giggling baby wouldn’t change. The baby’s dimples were permanent. He was a photograph.

I was the weather. Yesterday was gray. Today was meant to be dry, but my sopping socks proved the weatherman wrong. Tomorrow’s sky would most likely be clouded, but a ray of light could peak through. If I could be a photograph of the sun I would. I wished my forecast was forever filled with rainbows. Except, rainbows only came after the rain. I was the weather.

My favorite photograph blew out the door, but I wasn’t worried. It would be displayed in the same spot the next day. If my forecast was correct, I would be there to study the picture once again. If we were both prints we could be displayed together, but I wasn’t. I was the weather and I would not dare get too close to a photograph. Depending on the day my touch could fade the color, waterlog the paper, or blow it away to another city. Weather could ruin a perfect picture.

Shannon: When I’d first met her I was skeptical a person so flawless could exist. I soon learned there was nothing to question. She was hopelessly herself, and I admired almost every aspect of her. Everyone in her presence felt lucky to be sprinkled with just one measly flake of her fearless, because spending time with her was the closest most of us would ever get to flying without needing wings. She wasn’t just an adrenaline rush, but the best friend a person could have. Her kindness offered the same comfort as a mother’s hug. She was as trustworthy as loyal sidekick, and as encouraging as a number one fan. When she moved away I swear the world lost my favorite color.

If you got this far, thanks, and leave your response or prompt ideas in the comments!

Writing Prompt: Day 3

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Day 3 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a story inspired by these three pictures.

Shannon: “You must be Leo,” I spoke up from the tree I was leaning on as soon as I caught sight of the new face. He looked like a lost puppy, carrying his suitcase and bags. He looked to me a little surprised, but didn’t say a word as he started walking in my direction. “I’m Faye,” I stood up to introduce myself.

He shook my hand as he looked into my eyes, “Nice to meet you.” I got little distracted by how his iris were almost as dark as his pupils, when there was a sharp pain on my palm.

“Ow,” we both pulled our hands away and I examined mine to see that it was red and rough as if I’d touched something hot.

“I’m sorry. I thought I could prove that I could control my power, and get out of here. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he looked down, preparing for my backlash.

“It’s okay. I get it, but I’m not the one you should be trying to impress. I was banished here too.”

“Earth is our home, not this place. They can’t really make us stay here, can they?”

“They’ve deemed our powers are dangerous, and we can’t control them. They could do much worse to us than this. Come on I’ll show you where to put you’re things,” I waved him to follow.

He sighed, but listened, “So what makes you dangerous?”

I turned around, “How about I show you?” He agreed with a smirk, and we headed to my room.

I opened the door to the familiar sound of violin music and laughter that transformed into a swarm of live inanimate objects greeting us hello. Leo jumped back, “What the…”

“Who is this,” the floor mat questioned.

“A new reject.”

“A new friend,” my chess pieces cheered.

“You make things come to life,” he looked at me, confused.

I nodded, “Only inanimate objects, and it doesn’t work on fabric.”

“Why is that so dangerous?”

“Armies of objects that can’t die. It was a little too intimidating for the council.”

“Why would anyone do that? And how can they assume these objects have the potential to be evil?” He seemed more upset about my placement than his own. He put his hands out to let a group of pawns jump into his palms. They began gossiping about his looks before complaining about the heat. “Sorry,” he quickly handed them to me.

“I’m sure they told you. It’s not about how you can stop it, but about how they can stop you. If they can’t successfully cage the power on Earth, we end up here.”

Erin: I finally found my way on my new planet. The purple air started to taste blue, or maybe even tasted better than blue. My body seemed to walk, but walking was more like floating there, and I had come to like floating far better than walking. Pompee was filled with tickles and once I started to befriend the Zorks, getting stuck there didn’t seem like such a bad fate. Even being the designated “transferrer” at work, because of my size, didn’t seem like such an insult.

The little Zorks filled the pudding cups and slid them down the line to be lidded. Then I would transfer to packing and the train would fly them to the markets. Work was fun with how sound came through the air particles in Pompee. The injecting machine chimed, when the cups slid they whistled, and the tape guns snapped. Her coworkers could keep a good beat. “Wal mantana keyote,” Tasseray’s hair shot to the ceiling as he yelled.

All of the Zorks started chanting in unison initiating a crescendo that evolved into a holler. Once they were all shrilling with a consistent vibrato a human boy walked into the room. A person just like me, not a little, colorful, legless, armless… Zonk. My eyes were deceiving me, but if he was real I could be happy in Pompee, and I could be happy with him. The shrilling faded and slowed. His hair was silver, my favorite color. He walked toward me. He wafted his sugar scent in my direction. I tried to blink away my mirage and on the third attempt I succeeded.

I was back on stage and back on earth. I dropped my bow and violin to my side as our conductor smiled at us. I along with the other humans bowed for the crowd. No one seemed suspicious. They must have thought I never left, but the homesickness burning a hole in my side would beg to differ. My need to get back to the silver haired boy would beg to differ.

Three pictures for day three. Share your stories with us here or any of the other places we are, we’d love to here from you!

Writing Prompt: Day 2

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Day 2 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Your character in yesterday’s post is justified (…at least to some extent), make us trust their goal is positive.

Erin: “How did your Christmas go,” Rosa asked sipping at some sort of brown liquor in her glass.

Leah stirred her coke, the ice cubes clinked on the sides of the glass. “Same old, same old.”

“What did they say now?” Leah could see all of the day’s happenings in Rosa’s eyes. Her mom asking her if she fell off of her diet. Her sister trying to convince her she would be happier if she found the right guy. Her dad presenting a few job options she could consider “if she wanted a career change.”

“Pretty much that my sister is doing everything right, and therefore I am not,” she pulled her straw out of her glass and pushed it back through the layer of ice.

“Your sister can take her 20’s housewife life and go back to Kansas,” Rosa said pouring her straight liquor into Leah’s glass. She could see her own control spilling out and over the rim.

“No,” she pulled the glass away and her friend’s drink poured straight onto the bar.

“You need to loosen up,” she insisted grabbing a small bar napkin and soaking up as much as she could. “If I were you I wouldn’t be calling my mom every day trying to get my family’s approval. I would cut them off,” she slurred the last few words and asked the bartender to top her off again.

The bar erupted as the glass ball dropped on the screen. Leah clinked her friend’s new drink and took 3 long sips. The alcohol felt warm entering her system and she felt warm around Rosa. Around her the whiskey felt safe, and around her whatever came of the night and of her life seemed fine. “You’re right, this year I will finally drink more and talk to my family less.”

Shannon: “You need to break out of your shell,” was the constant critique running through my head for the past few years of my life. I could never seem to meet enough new people, go to enough strange places, or test out enough out-of-the-norm activities. After all of my efforts to please my critics and better myself, I came to one conclusion: I miss my shell. This last year I spent so much time trying to break free from my shell that I left it so far behind I started feeling like I might never get it back. Sure, changing things up once in a while feels great, but I don’t want to lose my comfort zone again just to explore a new one. That’s why my New Year’s Resolution is to spend more time in my shell. I want to spend more time with the people I already love, more time in the places that bring me peace, and more of my days doing the activities that make me smile. Life is too short to spend free time not doing exactly what I enjoy most. So if anyone ever needs me, there’s a good chance they’ll find me happily in my comfy, cozy shell.

Day two built off of the simplicity of day one. Share your stories in the comments, and we’ll be back tomorrow!

Writing Prompt: Day 1

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Day 1 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a new year’s resolution most rational characters would consider a negative life change…

Erin: “This year I will finally drink more and talk to my family less.”

Shannon: “I would like to spend more time in my shell.”

We decided to start with an easy one. A sentence is not much writing, but those few words are something and sometimes on days like holidays that is all anyone could ask for. Show us what your unique mind comes up with in the comments and have a happy new year.

365 Days of Writing Prompts

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Dear Internet,

Writing is hard, we know. We also know having someone to hold us accountable helps. You will be that person for us Internet… or whatever word can be used to classify you. Here and now we are promising to write for you every day. If any one else should stumble into this dusty corner of the web they can join us with their stories in the comments. These prompts serve to challenge us and keep us honest. We are trusting you to help us build a habit and will not let you down. Talk to you in a bit!

Cheers,

The Pelky Sisters