Tag Archives: 365 days of writing

Writing Prompt: Day 62

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62.jpgDay 62 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Use the words: glow, wild, and invasion.

Erin: There was a red glow in the distance. “What’s that,” Elie asked tugging on my shirt.

“I don’t know,” I whispered walking slightly closer. The glowing started to pulsate.

“Who’s that,” Elie pointed to the creature making it out of the light and casting a large lopsided shadow.

“I don’t know and I don’t really want to find out,” I hoister her into my arms and started running further and further into the wild.

“Mommy what’s happening,” she started crying and her arms wrapped tight around my neck.

“Nothing we’re going to be okay,” I lied fully aware that we were in the middle of our prophesied invasion.

Shannon: “Did you witness the invasion,” I questioned the guy lying on in the cot next to mine. He was turned on his side, so I could only see his back, but I hoped he was still awake. I needed someone to talk to, and it would have to be a stranger. In this huge room, I didn’t see one person that I recognized. I prayed I wasn’t the only survivor in my family, and that we just found refuge in different locations. I had to keep telling myself that I’d find them again, otherwise I wouldn’t have the strength to go on.

“I was there,” the voice revealed after a pause. He turned his body to face me. I couldn’t see him perfectly in the darkness, but there was a faded red glow reflecting off his face from a dim light nearby. I could tell he was around my age, as were most of the faces I saw nearby my bed as I walked in. Maybe they were organizing all the misfits by age. “Were you there,” he questioned.

“No, but no one will tell me what happened. Can you tell me,” I begged for a better understanding.

“It’s not something you want to know,” he tried to stop me there.

“I believe you but I’m so confused. I don’t know how bad it is. I don’t even know what the enemy looks like. Please, there has to be something you can tell me,” I tried not to appear too desperate, but I was failing.

He rolled his shoulders, looking like he was struggling with the memory. “They are like no creatures I’ve ever seen before. I don’t know how to describe them. They are not more human or more animal. They speak another language, and they are all eight feet tall and very strong. I got a look into one of their eyes and they were wild in the way they didn’t seem to be searching for anything in particular. They just wanted to kill. You don’t have to worry about them blending in. You’ll know when you see one,” his description gave me what I asking for, but didn’t put me at ease.

“Do they have weapons,” I whispered.

“They are the weapon,” he clarified.

Multiply these words into many words.

Writing Prompt: Day 61

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61.jpgDay 61 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a ghost encounter.

Shannon: I didn’t want to say anything when we got to the tourist lookout point, because I didn’t want to distract my friends from the beautiful view over my rude impulse thoughts. Still, I harbored an uneasy feeling about the guy standing close to the edge of the cliff.

The color of his skin was almost pure white and his veins were prominently showing through his arms. Not only that, but his eyes were ringed with black circles and his mouth revealed some darkness between his lips. The creepiest thing was the way he was he was staring at the people instead of the scenery behind him. Yet everyone was ignoring him, like it was completely normal.

Maybe they could all see he was sick, and I was the messed up one for judging him so harshly. I believed it for a while until I saw him screaming at a little boy. “Get away from the edge,” he shouted into the child’s face and the boy fell back and immediately broke into tears.

“That was harsh,” I finally spoke up to my friends.

They both turned, and quickly looked back at me. Still no terrified reactions. “Did something happen to the kid,” Diana question.

“Yeah, didn’t you hear that man scream at him,” I furrowed my brow. How could they miss it?

“His dad,” Mae questioned.

I shook my head, annoyed. “The guy by the edge,” I pointed and he caught a glimpse of me. Now he was focusing in my direction and I quickly looked away.

“I don’t see anyone but the family,” Diana explained as she looked back again.

I took another look. He was limping toward me now. “The guy walking in our direction, you don’t see him,” my whole body started to burn up as my heart started to race.

“Are you ok,” Mae asked, tugging at my arm.

“I don’t think so,” I shook my head. “We should get away from here,” I stated.

“Stay,” he shouted again, and I would run if I wasn’t paralyzed in fear. If he didn’t exist, where could I truly hide? “I need your help,” his yell turned into a low growl.

Erin: “You know I don’t believe in this mumbo jumbo,” Luke grumbled as he and Rodger stepped into the haunted mansion.

“Well this will just be a fun stroll through a mansion then,” Rodger offered.

“An uneventful stroll,” Luke corrected.

“Do this for me,” Rodger demanded gesturing that for him to move along with his hands.

“Whatever,” they walked in and were greeted by an upbeat employee. He was talking in a deep quite tone, but there was a slight upward tug of his lips. He explained the supposed murdered family that had lived in the home they were about to tour. Then he walked everyone through the floors warning them to avoid touching certain things.

“Now that you have been introduced to our residents, we allow our guests to go mingle with our hosts. Please be respectful of those who live here and we recommend the buddy system,” their guide started chuckling slightly as he strolled away.

“Can we please go now,” Luke grumbled.

“No,” Rodger nearly yelled.

“This place is the biggest hoax possible. Instead of just saying the family is quite today they could at least take time to put effort into tricking us,” Luke complained as he continued to follow Rodger through the halls.

“Would you stop bellyaching so much,” Rodger screamed at the top of his lungs and a statue fell out of the nook in the wall.

“What the hell man,” he took a swing at Rodger but Luke’s arm didn’t make contact it just continued through the air and through his best friend.

“Did you just try to hit my son young man,” Luke immediately fell to the ground as a woman exited the wall from where the statue used to sit.

“This is why I don’t bring friends home mom,” Rodger rolled his eyes. “You know how hard it is to find people who see me. Stop scaring all of them the second they realize who we are.”

“If you’re going to have an attitude feel free to bring it right up to your room,” she placed her hands on her hip. “I will let your friend know he has to come back another time when he wakes up,” she yelled as Rodger forced another statue to fall. The screams of the other humans were beginning to ring through their home.

Writers are the masters of creating people who are not “real,” prove your ability with this prompt.

Writing Prompt: Day 60

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60.jpgDay 60 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about anything inside a witch’s home.

Erin: In the corner of Ophelia’s spell room there was a water cooler. It seemed so mundane compared to all of the other glittering and ancient trinkets otherwise overcoming the space. Even atop the water cooler was a crystal bowl full of gold leaf flakes. But underneath the precious topper was just the old beat up water cooler. She found the equipment in a thrift shop and knew it was the last thing she needed for her work. She understood the plastic heap would be an outlier and eyesore, but she also understood it would be used. And it was used, she touched that water cooler every hour in doing her spells, which she could not say about a single other thing in the room. Just because the water cooler was not the first thing visitors noticed, did not mean it’s presence and impact was not the most influential of them all.

Shannon: I couldn’t imagine that my bathroom cabinet was like any of the other girls at school, or my house for that matter. Maybe that’s why I could never seem to relate to any of them. I always felt like I was from a different world, and found myself having to be extremely careful about never revealing too much to the outside world.

My makeup collection might have appeared normal, but the ingredients were a homemade concoction. For example, my under eye cream contained children’s tears and a mixture of other natural but hard-to-come-by ingredients. There was actually no pigment to at all, because this stuff didn’t cheat. This was true color correction and a face-lift in a bottle. Not that I needed too much yet, but as my mother would say, it never hurts to freeze time.

Each bottle in my nail polish collection contains a drop of fairy blood, don’t worry we don’t hurt them. We exchange them some very sought after valuables for the tiny vials. We’re not all wicked. The magical power goes a long way. There’s enough power in one drop to sway the world in your favor, or more accurately the whole school.

Then there is the mascara. Contaminated with the powder of black petals from flowers in our garden, which are grown under some very particular conditions. The mixture not only fills in natural full lashes within seconds, but also gives the eyes a hypnotizing power. Just a few blinks and I have the power to get almost anyone to do what I want. Not that I talk advantage of these products…too often.

One detail in the setting can sometimes be more important than all of the others put together.

Writing Prompt: Day 59

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59.jpgDay 59 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character finding a stray dog.

Erin: The day I found Skip changed the course of my life forever. He became such an integral part of my life that nothing was ever the same. When I went to local ball games he initiated meeting new people. He introduced me to many of my friends. They came for Skip, but they soon fell for me too.

When I was nervous about moving out on my own, he cuddled up with me and helped me fall asleep. Then when my mother was no longer there to wake me and I just turned my alarm off he filled her role of sitting on me until I woke.

Not to mention the fact that from day one he changed the course or my life. Or extended the course of my life. Without Skip I would have died on the side of the road and the neighbor a few blocks down wouldn’t have called an ambulance until it was too late. I didn’t just save a stray dog, a stray dog saved me too, and saved me first.

Shannon: Hey little buddy, it’s ok,” I tried to bribe a stray dog who was hiding under my porch by holding out a piece of sandwich meat. He kept panting and looking around, like he thought he was invisible, but then his nose caught wind of the smell. He started to slowly crawling forward, but he was very hesitant, clearly struggling internally, making it look like this was the most difficult decision of his life.

“There you go,” he finally got close enough to lick it from my hand. I pet the back of his neck. He was definitely a mutt with his course gray fur and no disguisable traits. No collar either. The touch didn’t bug him and when I ran out of food he didn’t walk away. He just started licking my face, weakly, but thankfully.

“Aww,” I smiled, and eventually had to break away from the dog kisses. “You want to come inside,” I questioned, at the same time waking up to the fact that I was speaking to an animal. It was better than the silent, confused look he was giving me.

I held the door open a little while and he followed me inside. I didn’t own pets, so I had no dog food to give him. I started tearing up some bread and he followed me over to the couch. I patted the cushion, but he wouldn’t jump up. He just rested his head on the seat, with adorable begging eyes.

When I was about to go to bed I pilled a few blankets and pillows together for him on the floor, but he didn’t seem to understand. Instead he just kept following me, and I didn’t encourage it but he hopped onto the bed without hesitation. “So couch is bad, but bed is okay. I hope I eventually get to meet your owner,” I rubbed his head.

Write about your character’s best friend, man or woman.

Writing Prompt: Day 58

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58.jpgDay 58 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character who has amnesia.

Shannon: “Amber,” a girl came up to me in shock. “I heard about your accident. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She might as well have been a stranger. Memory is a tricky thing. You don’t realize how much you’ve relied on this power you have never seen, never felt, and never genuinely thanked until it’s gone. Like a pyramid of cans, I’m quickly witnessing what happens when you pick from the bottom row first. Everything comes crashing down. “I’m so sorry, but I had memory loss after the accident. I don’t remember you. I actually can’t remember anyone I met in the last five years.”

“Oh wow,” she took a step back. “That would explain it. Are you ok?”

“I’m getting there,” I shrugged, “But it would be easier if I didn’t feel like I traveled to the future and woke up in a hospital bed. How do I know you,” I questioned, wanting to know who else knew me better than I knew myself.

“We were college roommates, we’ve been pretty close ever since. Well, until you disappeared,” she gave me a sad smirk. “My name is Kim.”

I’d seen her name in my phone a few times while I was in physical therapy. I tried so hard right away to gain everything back, but eventually had to give myself a break. It was draining. No one could seem to help. Not in a way that made it clear. It was only a fake fix. You can’t pass on memories. They don’t feel the same.

Erin: “Why do you keep acting like you have the hardest life in the world,” my brother asked asking to be slapped.

“I never said I had the hardest life, but my life has gotten harder,” I pointed out.

“Yeah right,” he cackled stealing the remote from me.

“What’s that supposed to mean. I’ve lost memories asshole. I’ve lost some of the best years of my life,” I stood up just about ready to strangle him.

“Lucky for you, I know what some of those best years entailed. The good and the bad. I’ll help you recapture the good without all of the tears,” he smiled.

“That’ll take time,” I reminded.

“Yes, it will, but it’ll be fun,” he smiled at his DVD collection. “We’ll start by watching your favorite movie for the,” he air-quoted, “first time.”

You remembered to write today, good for you. Write about someone forgetting.

Writing Prompt: Day 57

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57.jpgDay 57 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character winning an award.

Erin: “You should have been at the awards show today,” I told Lark as I came in with Lincoln. “Tell your daddy what happened,” I squatted down and ruffled his curls.

“I won a trophy,” he beamed up at his father.

“Yeah sport,” he grabbed the plastic from his hand and studied the engraving.

“Best snacks,” he read out loud and I could see him fighting back a laugh. “Congrats bud,” he wrapped him up tight in his arms. “Go find a nice place for it in your room,” he suggested and patted him on the back.

As Lincoln ran off giggling Lark smiled up at me. “Yeah everyone got an award,” I confirmed.

“This one seems more like a win for you,” he hugged me and kissed my forehead. “Congratulations on your major award sweetheart!”

Shannon: My boyfriend and I were competing against each other in a dessert competition, and the crowds were voting on their favorites now. We could have worked together, but we couldn’t agree on what dish we wanted to serve and ended up entering separately. We didn’t mind, because we both agreed to be civil no matter who won. We also made a pact to complain together, if neither of won anything.

We got up to the stage to hear the results and neither of are names were called for second, third, or fourth place. My hopes started to dim, believing both of us must have odd taste buds, because our skill levels couldn’t be that different from each other. Then suddenly my name was called, and they were handing me a trophy and a t-shirt. I felt spark of joy running through my whole body and the crowd applauded, a little in shock, but then I looked over to Dan and the spark was scared away. I didn’t want to beat him by so much. This wasn’t as I pictured it would be.

After we got off the stage he put out his arms to give me a hug. “Go ahead, say I told you so,” he pouted.

“No, the crowd was just in my favor today,” I shook my head.

“So now you get to make the desserts for the town ceremony,” he questioned a little disappointed. I knew how much he wanted people to love his food, and the ceremony was the perfect place to show off his talents.

“Well I can’t do it alone, and I don’t trust anyone else to help, so if you’d be interested maybe it could be a team effort,” I asked.

“If you missed cooking with me, you just had to tell me,” he joked, trying to act like he was the one doing me a favor.

“Yes, I missed cooking with you,” I rolled my eyes.

“Ok then, if you insist,” he cheered.

What is your character the champion of?

Writing Prompt: Day 56

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56.pngDay 56 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Your character is experiencing one emotion very intensely.

Shannon: Karen was excited. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t doing anything particularly different today than she did any other day, yet she felt the buzz of a spark running through her veins. Maybe she was sensing something that was about to happen, maybe it just couldn’t be explained. Either way she couldn’t calm herself.

Erin: When I walked into the door Ronald’s head spun 365 degrees. “What is wrong with you,” I questioned.

“I thought you were someone else,” his hands literally shook.

“Who did you think I was,” I asked placing a hand on his shoulder, he jerked away from my touch.

“There’s been a strange man following me around all day,” his eyes were frozen out the window.

“Where,” I asked trying to touch him again before he would try to run.

“At the doctor’s office, the man in the waiting room was staring at me,” he explained. “He looked like he was possessed.”

“He was probably sick I reminded,” he immediately shook his head violently.

“I saw a bald-headed man, which mind you was what the man at the doctor had, rushing away from me at the store,” he seemed to be replaying the incident in his head.

“Was he just trying to get out of the cereal aisle quickly,” I offered.

“Then a SUV with tinted windows followed me for 50% of my commute home,” he added.

“You’re acting a little paranoid,” I underexaggerated as I looked at my husband who was picking at his already bleeding finger.

“Paranoia is an exaggeration. Someone is seriously trying to kill me,” he took out his phone, but dropped it on the floor in the process.

“Now he’s trying to kill you?”

Your character is overwhelmed in an emotion, what’s your pick?

Writing Prompt: Day 55

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55.pngDay 55 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a person that embodies an animal.

Erin: Goldie never felt very special. She knew that everyone in the band was unique. Compared to the lead singer who was always so colorful, she was. But the thing about Goldie was, compared to all of the fans she wasn’t. They reminded her of that every day. She wasn’t exotic enough, she wasn’t flamboyant enough and she surely wasn’t Beta. Goldie had no more of a right to be the pianist in the band than the other redhead in seat Y45. No one cared or wanted to look at someone like Goldie, they just had to because she was swimming in the same tank as her beautiful and unique friends.

Shannon: My grandpa was a gentle giant. When I was little he stood so tall over the top of me I knew he could have easily crushed me, but instead he would reach one of his long arms down and pick me up to give me the best hugs. He had dark gray hair, and wrinkles around his eyes whenever he would smile at me.

When he babysat me he would bring me along to the restaurant where he played the trumpet in a jazz band. The music and the atmosphere memorized me. It was the best place in the world and grandpa had become my role model. I wanted to be just like him. I suppose that’s why I took up the trumpet in school and tried to convince my friends that jazz was the best music in the world. The beautiful sound always made me feel closer to him.

Animal or person or animal or person? How will you make us ask that question?

Writing Prompt: Day 54

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54.jpgDay 54 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about how your character cleans.

Shannon: Becca put on her headphones and got to work picking up and organizing every piece of mail. Then she threw all of the clothes into the wash basket, and carried all the dirty dishes to the kitchen. The cat watched from his thrown on the backrest of couch as she picked up the toys he’s scattered across the living room. She imagined him whispering peasant as he curled his tail back and forth, so she squinted her eyes and shook her head at him.

Next it was on to her favorite part: vacuuming. She loved how loudly the apparatus roared, drowning out the rest of the world. Her headphones could trick her into believing she was surrounded by a sound barrier, but a vacuum cleaner was the real deal. She found peace in the activity, but her cat only saw his arch nemesis. He immediately pounced in front of its path and hissed. “Not this again,” she scolded.

Erin: Mary cleaning was a show. The house was her stage and the supplies where her fellow performers. In the bathroom, she painted the mirror with glass cleaner. The broom was her enthusiastic tap partner. She waved the duster around like a flag. She strutted behind the vacuum like the hallway was her runway. When she made the bed, she floated the blankets like she was flying a kite. I loved watching Mary as she pranced around leaving a sparkling house in her wake, almost as radiant as herself.

Characters cleaning, readers learning about them.

Writing Prompt: Day 53

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53.jpgDay 53 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a story with a mermaid.

Shannon: “I don’t feel right about this,” I spoke out loud as I stared at the tank.

“We’re not hurting her,” Mark argued. “We’re just studying her like you would any other abnormal human or animal, or in this case both.”

“But it’s against her will, and she’s not sick.”

“How do you know that? We could be saving her life, and it’s going to make us rich in the process. We’ve been given a permit. She’s lucky she ended up in the hand of scientists. Imagine what other people could have done with her,” he tried to downplay his role in the situation. “Why do you want to ruin this? Do you want her to go to another team, and let them get all the glory?”

“I don’t know. She just looks so unhappy,” I watched her lying motionless at the bottom of the small tank, with her face buried beneath her arms. It was a position we’d come to expect from her when we weren’t picking at her for some other reason.

“She’s sleeping,” he slapped the tank and she didn’t move. “See.”

I shook my head, frustrated. “So that’s the problem, she’s just always sleeping?”

“When you’re closing up tonight just remember we have cameras. Don’t let her go. It’s coming out of you’re pocket if you do, and I know you don’t have that kind of money. You’ll paying for it for the rest of you’re life, and I won’t be able to save you,” he put his hand on my shoulder.

I breathed out. Why’d he have to remind me? “Don’t worry I won’t let her go. Have a good night,” I assured him and soon after he left the building.

After I was sure I was alone I grabbed the sack of seashells I’d collect by the ocean for her, my best attempt at peace offering. I when up to the top of the tank and tried to get her attention, but she wouldn’t look up. I didn’t blame her. Instead I started dropping them all in the water, hoping to gain her interest. There was movement, and then she swam up to me, and let her head float above the water. “What are you doing,” she questioned.

I never heard her speak before, so I was a bit in shock. “I’m sorry,” I held out the huge conch shell I didn’t want to drop on her. She took it from my hand immediately and the rough scales on her skin brushed my fingers.

“Why did you get me this?” She took it over to the edge to examine it.

“It’s stupid.”

“Tell me the truth and I’ll forgive you for what you’ve done,” she looked back at me with her piercing blue eyes.

“My grandma used to tell me you could hear the ocean if you held it up to your ear. I know it’s not true, but I didn’t know how to bring the ocean to you, and I can’t bring you to the ocean,” I explained, defeated.

“Hmm,” she furrowed her brow, and glided back against the glass. She then held the shell like a telephone. She listened silently.

“Do you hear it,” I questioned.

She stuck her hand up and pushed it to the side to silence me, and I listened. “Mom,” she smiled with genuine relief. “No, no everything is fine. My shell just broke, and I had a hard time finding a new one. I’ll call more often, I promise,” she flashed her eyes up to me with hope in her gaze. “Don’t worry I just need to stay up here a little longer. I’ll be back when I’m ready. Yes I’ve made some really great friends. Okay,” she listened for a while and pressed her lips together. “Yeah of course go. I love you too,” tears fell from her face. “Goodbye,” her voice cracked.

“You ok?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she dunked her head to clear her eyes and I heard a noise from the water. I think she might have been screaming. She resurfaced and swam to me. “Can you hide this? Can you bring it to me whenever you’re alone?”

I nodded, taking it from her. “Why did you tell her you were okay?”

She shrugged. “Because I will be. Why worry her over something she can’t fix?”

“Well I’ll bring her to you every night,” I held up the shell. “And I promise I’ll get you out of here. I just haven’t figured out how yet.”

Erin: “Wannera,” I said her name as I dangled my feet over the edge of the dock. I made sure to flash my rainbow toes toward the bottom of the water.

I felt a tickle on them and I knew my favorite company was just beneath me. “You’re here,” she squealed shooting her head and upper body out of the water.

“Nice to see you,” I bent down and she raised enough to embrace me.

“I’ve missed you,” her smile gave the summer days sun a run for its money.

“Me too,” I assured. “You’re not going to believe what happened at school.”

“I’m sure it was amazing. I’ve always wanted to go to school,” her tail flipped out of the water as she did a little twirl.

“Calm down Wan,” I splashed at her and that only caused more giggling. “School is not fun,” I tried to burst her bubble.

“Yes, it is,” somehow her smile grew.

“No, it is not,” I tried to be stern.

“You’re there right,” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Then school is the most wonderful place in the world,” her eyes turned to glitter.

“That’s a little dramatic,” I started giggling as well.

“No, it’s not,” she sighed. Then swam over so she could prop her elbows on the dock. “You are my favorite person. I wish I had someone who understood my insides as much as you do down here,” she plopped her hand into the water.

“Well I wish I had someone who gets me like you do up here,” I tried not to let my frown show.

“Our worlds are lonely, aren’t they,” she added as a tear dropped from her eye. I didn’t know mermaids could cry.

“I don’t know if I’m supposed to be with you or if you’re supposed to be with me. All I know is we were created to be in the same world,” I kicked the water some more.

How about we bring our stories down under, the water that is?