Day 175 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a romance between two childhood friends.

Erin: “Do you ever regret that we waisted so much of our lives apart,” he asked seeming upset.

“What?”
“We were the lucky ones. We were given our soul mates from a young age and waisted it.”

“That’s not how it is,” I accidentally started laughing.

“How is it then sweetheart?” His frown turned to a scowl.

“I was not in love with bugger eating, mud fighting pull, pull my hair loser. I’m in love with this man who is completely different.”
“You like when I pull your hair now,” he winked and finally started smiling again.

I just rolled my eyes and walked into another room.

Shannon: We’re getting too big to keep hanging out in this tree house,” I grumbled as I tried to get my legs in comfortable position.

“Awe, but this is our place. Maybe we should expand,” Zach flared his arms, knocking me in the shoulder.

I shook my head with smile, “Oh sure, I’ll speak with the tree tomorrow about growing some more sturdy branches, and we’ll knock that wall right out. We’ll have it all done right in time for us to start high school. You know around the time when we’ll never use it again,” I joked.

“Exactly. That’s all I’m asking for,” he responded as if he were serious. I loved how we were so familiar with each other we never had to explain ourselves. Everything was effortless.

“Do you think high school is going to be completely different,” I asked unable to keep ignoring it for the rest of the summer, because I didn’t want to think about how everything was going to change.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, he’d been avoiding bringing it up too. “My brother told me they like to pick on the freshman, but other than that we’re just leveling up from middle school. We’ll get used to it after a while.”

“Do you think we’ll still be friends?” I got to the question I was actually concerned about.

He looked up sternly, “We’ll always be friends,” he explained with complete certainty.

“You can’t know that,” I shook my head. “We could move away from each other, you could find better friends, you could get a girlfriend and forget about me,” I listed off the possibilities.

“No I won’t,” he stated, again without wavering.

“Yeah but you probably will,” I narrowed my eyes at his irrational response.

“Well there is only one girl I want,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “So…” he shrugged, nervous now as he stopped looking at me, “I promise that’s not going to happen.”

I tried to hold myself back from smiling too obviously. “Good,” I revealed and his head immediately perked up again.

Give your character a chance at puppy love.

Day 174 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a long life.

Shannon: Every year picking strawberries from the garden got a little harder. Bending wasn’t easy on my back or my knees, and the arthritis in my hands made every pluck painful. Still, I loved fresh strawberries, so I let that drive me.

After I filled up a few containers I headed inside to share them with my husband. As we sat and ate them on the porch I thought about all the memorable strawberry seasons I’d been through. I reminisced as far back as the first time I’d ever learned how to pick them with my own grandparents. My grandpa would always eat half of them before they could even make it to the basket. Then my grandma would scold him, telling him to save some for the rest of the family. He’d try to make me laugh by sneaking a taste whenever my grandma had her back turned, and I’d giggle my little heart out, completely amused.

I’d make the same jokes as him with my own kids, and then later on with my grandkids too. It’s always a beautiful sight to see a child’s face light up. I’ve been here for so many years, and I have been so grateful for every one of them.

Erin: The thing about someone who had lived a life as long as hers is that they had tattooed the earth. There were trees with her initials lovingly carved in them. Beaches were stamped with her footprints. She’d drawn tier tracks in the mud. She even sprayed was and took chips from landmarks. Art was created with her own two hands. The earth was a little better, a little worse, and most importantly different from her many years.

Write a short story about your character’s long life.

Day 173 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character meeting their future self.

Erin: “You must have some words of wisdom to share. Something you wish you wouldn’t have done,” I begged myself to break the time traveling laws.

“Honestly the only advice I would have given myself would be to stop seeking it out. Stop worrying what the answer to that question is. That fear left me with no regrets, no hard times, and that is what I regret the most,” wrinkled me sighed.

“But if I don’t worry we won’t know what happens to you,” I argued.

“We already know what happens when you do, and I’m not worried. Isn’t that saying something?”

Shannon: “Ok, ok you can stop. I believe you. So you’re really are me? How old are you,” I questioned. Though I couldn’t recognize my facial features in her, I felt an immediate comfort in her presence before she even spoke.

“I’m 87,” she flashed her teeth.

I smiled, “We live that long, really? I always had this feeling that I’d die young.”

“You still could,” she corrected me. “Nothing is set in stone.”

“Then why did you come? Did you need to warn me about something,” I felt a little jolt of panic.

“Well I was given the opportunity, and I won’t spoil anything because that wouldn’t be any fun. It could even screw things up, but I do have some advice. It won’t change your future, but it’s something I wish I knew when I was your age. Do you think you’re ready to hear it,” she questioned.

I nodded, even though you can never be ready for advice that changes your world.

“You need to let go of the control you think you have over your life. I know you’re working really hard to make everything perfect, and you want to make every second of your time here fulfilling,” she raised her hands to display the world then looked back at me, “But sweetheart that’s not up to you. Putting all this pressure on yourself and blaming yourself for everything you haven’t done isn’t getting you anywhere. You think you know what you want tomorrow to look like, but you never really know until you get there.” She tapped my forehead gently. “Don’t let your high expectations ruin a perfectly wonderful tomorrow. Everyday is beautiful in its own right. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nodded, thinking about all the days I had wasted, “I understand.”

Time for your character to met an older version of them self.

Day 172 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a story about making lemons into lemonade.

Shannon: “So,” I balled my fists in front of my chest in anticipation, hoping I’d get the answer I was waiting for.

He let out a puff of air, deflating his chest and face in the process. Shaking his head he explained, “They decided to go with the other play. We’re out of the competition.”

“What,” my voice raised an octave. “It can’t be over. We put all this work into it,” I couldn’t accept their decision.

“Well it is,” he snapped, pounding his fist into the palm of his other hand. He kept pushing them together and raised them in front of his mouth as he looked to the side. I’d never seen him so disappointed. He was a great director, but it seemed like every chance he’d ever come close to always managed to slip through his fingers.

I couldn’t let him give up. I still believed in him, and I believed that what we created deserved to be seen. “No it’s not. We can still run the show ourselves.”

He shook his head, still defeated, “Yeah, because we have the money pay for that.”

“We don’t need a lot of money. There’s that small amphitheater that no one ever uses in Garden Park. We can piece together cheap costumes from a thrift store. Spread the news to the town and family members, everyone’s always looking for something to do anyway. We could just have fun with it, no pressure,” I smiled, getting myself excited.

His narrowed his eyes on me, “I don’t know. What if people just think it’s a big joke.”

“So what? Whether it’s a big production on a TV show or a little, unknown park show it can still be a joke. You know that better than anyone,” I patted his shoulder. “What do you say?”

He smirked, “I don’t see why we can’t at least try.”

Erin: I tried to not let my tour group know how I found my passion for design. Massively failing in chemistry was daunting. It would scare them. It was true though, and in my experience, was present in many people’s college journeys. Going in confident, but then being blindsided was the norm. Wasting a year of life then growing up was a rite of passage. It was money down the drain and scary, but the lucky ones graduated with a dream and the really lucky ones were prepared by the end to accomplish it.

Make this prompt into a story.

Day 171 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about seeing the world in a different light.

Erin: When I got moved to 1^st shift everyone considered me lucky. I didn’t feel that way. I liked the world in the dark. There were less people out and about at night. Not much was open when I used to get off of work, but the stores with late ours were so pleasantly abandoned at those hours. With even the bars closed down I could go full weekdays without seeing anyone other than my coworkers and college students who served me at my hangouts. I didn’t mind the calm five days and stocked up on my excitement over the weekend. I had so much energy during the hours I was normally at work. Being the life of the party was a breeze. The sunshine and daylight were harsh and they made me average. I liked life in the dark where I felt invincible.

Shannon: “I’ve always been more of a dog person,” I explained as I scooted away from my friend’s new cat. Its big eyes were staring at me, and I’ve never trusted a cats intentions. I didn’t want it to think I was any kind of threat.

“That’s surprising,” she gave me a look as she picked Oliver up to set him on her lap.

“Why? You know I’ve always loved dogs,” I shrugged.

“Yeah,” she quickly agreed, “But if you were an animal you would totally be a cat.”

“What,” I cringed. “I am not,” I disagreed, feeling offended.

“You’re an introvert. You’re independent and you aren’t constantly seeking attention. You’re really sweet when you want to be, but feisty too. Yeah you’re a cat,” she smiled as she tickled the cat’s back.

My eyebrows tightened as I contemplated if she could possibly be right. I never thought of it that way before.

What new perspective has your character been shown?

Day 170 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about the moment everything is on the line,

Shannon: I always liked how in the last few innings of a softball game everything could change. I imagine most players like to gain a strong lead and coast through the rest of the game, but I like the uncertainty. I live for the fear that raises the hairs on the back of my neck and reminds me in an instant the game could spiral in either direction.

The ones with the lead lose a little confidence in their abilities, and the ones behind gain some hope. Somehow both teams are even in that moment, and I like the pressure that comes with leveling the playing field. You can be a hero with one amazing play, and one mistake can make it feel like the loss is solely on your shoulders. It’s terrifying, but it’s worth it.

Erin: “Pull it up son,” I instructed as my boy’s face became increasingly red.

“I can’t,” he winced giving a pathetic effort of cranking up his line.

“Yes, you can, I’m not helping.” I started to walk away and sat at the end of the dock with my arms crossed.

A tear formed in his eye, but then went away as he started grunting and pulling up. The line became increasingly strained. I watched on my heart starting to race. “Ugh,” he let out an even louder grunt as the water started to show movement where the line entered the surface.

“There you go buddy,” I encouraged as I saw some gray scales breach the surface. A fish the size of his body peaked out and he was just nearly yanked in with when the fish retaliated back down into the water.

“I told you I couldn’t,” he reiterated as I stepped in and gave the line the last yank it needed.

“But you didn’t give up kiddo and that is the kind of integrity I like to see in a man,” I ruffled his little curls.

What’s on the line for your character?

Day 169 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Keep a strong focus on confidence.

Erin: I’ve learned so many things over the past month, but in order to do that I had to learn one thing. I don’t know anything until I try. Pretending that I have nothing to lose or nothing to fear means I am given the opportunity to learn and helps me learn quickly.

Shannon: Confidence.  They all say that’s what I need. They say it will turn everything around. Anybody can succeed as long as they have confidence in themselves.

I totally believe them, but I…I just…silly me, I keep asking where you find this miraculous trait. So, they give me the obvious answer that it’s within me. Then I go and search everywhere for this inner powerhouse, and it never appears.

I’ve started to think maybe this confidence thing is a gift, like being athletic or being able to sing. Maybe we think everyone has it, because they tell us we should. However, I think maybe…just maybe…it’s a gift, and those who have it are very lucky.

You can write today’s prompt!

Day 168 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a unique style.

Shannon: My best friend style didn’t gain her a lot of fans in school. Well some fans, but not the ones with any sense of fashion. When she first showed up with her superhero-like metal forearm band, holding strategically placed gadgets, I was a little confused. She was on the school’s robotics team, so I thought maybe it was project for the club, but she made it for her own fun. Everyday she was the only one sporting this attention-grabbing band. Most of the students would give her looks like she was crazy, and once the teachers determined it wasn’t a distraction they let her keep it on.

I’ll admit at was first a little embarrassed by the negative attention, but she owned it so well that I started to admire the ingenuity. Her arm had a laser projection virtual keyboard, a GPS compass, and any other random devices she could get her hands on. It was like being friends with secret agent and after a while it just became fun. She’d come in with a new retractable robot piece every month, and I started looking forward to seeing what she could create.

Erin: My sister always wore her hot pink baseball cap when we went to the amusement park. No matter what the rest of her outfit was she wouldn’t care if it matched at all. It contrasted her black hair so nicely though, but that is not why I liked it. The reason I loved her hat is that it made it impossible for me to lose her. Even if she got separated a quick scan would draw my eyes right to her head and saved me so much time.

What’s your character’s style?

Day 167 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about someone learning what being free means to them.

Erin: My initial reaction to falling in love with her was to push back. I didn’t want to be tied down, or restricted, or put someone else’s needs above my own. So, I decided to quit her. In attempting that I realized I had chosen my own prison. Loving her was secure, and worry free. In a room with her I was more myself than I could ever be apart from her. Half the time she knew what I wanted better than I did myself. Love should not have been compared to shackles and whips, it was open doors and endless possibilities. I needed her back, I needed my freedom back.

Shannon: I needed to walk. I had to move. I needed to get away from the box that outlined the perimeters of my world. How had my life become so small?

I wasn’t walking to forget. I was walking to understand. The trail was the only place remote enough and quiet enough to cleanse my mind. Still, even in a place with no distractions I couldn’t escape the fog that surrounded my brain. I call it a fog because it stops me from doing what I want. Deep down I know what I want, but I stop myself from reaching for it. I distract myself with something else to make up for what I’m missing out on.

I don’t know if I let the fog control me because I don’t think I will succeed, or if the fog is just familiar to me. Maybe I’m afraid to give up my comfort-zone even though I know I can’t stay here. Freedom to me means leaving the hesitations and the haze behind.

Knowledge will be your character’s freedom.

Day 166 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about what’s inside a homeless person’s backpack.

Shannon: It had been weeks now and he never came back for his bag. I didn’t know what had happened to him. I’d hoped he was okay, but it was impossible to get reach him unless we could spot him in person. I’d looked for him everyday with a little flicker of hope he’d appear out of nowhere with that heartwarming smile I’d already missed seeing everyday, but it was like he disappeared.

“Do you mind if I look though his backpack,” I asked my boss at the shelter. “Maybe he left something behind that can help us find out if he’s ok.”

“Yeah, I’d say it’s been enough time, but please don’t get your hopes up,” she reminded me with a pat on the shoulder before walking away.

I picked the bag up with care, not wanting to do anything to wreck the only possessions the man had left on this earth. I unbuckled the strap on the top of the backpack that secured a rolled-up fleece blanket. It was so thin, how could it be his only protection from the cold? How was it his only protection from the world?

I unzipped the main pocket, and a stuffed animal was the first thing that caught my eye. My mind wandered, trying to understand why it something he’d held onto. Was it for comfort? Was it his pillow? Did it mean something to him?

He had a change of clothes in the bag too. They’d held a certain odor as expected, but it didn’t stop me. He also had some snack bags and granola bars, probably things people had offered to him the last day we saw him. At the bottom there was a water bottle, a cheap pair of promotional sunglasses, a winter hat, and a pair of gloves.

I checked the small pocket in the front and found a photo of him with a young child. He once explained to me the story of how his son died, and how his life had spiraled down ever since that day. He told me he was trying to turn it around, and find some kind of meaning again. He never showed anyone this photo. I didn’t understand. He kept it with him for so long, why would he leave without it now? It seemed as if he had left it behind for us on purpose, and that hurt my heart.

Erin: She had collected some essentials: a blanket for when the nights got particularly cold, a water bottle to collect fountain water, a phone for prospective job prospects, even a bus pass for trying her luck in new areas. Things were starting to look up. She could feel things happening. Good things happening.

What does your character keep with them?