Writing Prompt: Day 24

24.jpg Day 24 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a story that involves someone losing a tooth.

Erin: “This is your first chance,” my dad beamed as he showed me the little human in the mirror.

He was readjusting so the tooth would be centered under the pillow. “Stay put,” he whispered to his pillow and turned the light off. Once his head laid down he closed his eyes. Within a few minutes, he was asleep and I knew it was time to prove myself.

I strapped on my backpack, turned on my turbo boots and before I knew it I was flying. The wind was rough once I got to my first clients city. I went with it when I could and turned up my boosters when I was going to be derailed. Despite some difficulties, I made it.

“Ugh,” I grunted and I used my jack to crank up the window. Once there was a ½ an inch gap I knew I could get in. Turning my turbos back on would be easiest, but I heard horror stories of that waking up light sleepers. The little human was making snorting noises as he slept. I didn’t know if that meant he was a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper.

I grabbed onto the string hanging from the window fabric and slid down. Once I was in the carpet I almost got lost in the fibers. I continued in the direction of the snorting and before I knew it I had run into a piece of bed fabric. I grabbed a handful and started my climb. “But mom, I ate all of my peas,” I nearly lost my grip at his words, but letting go would have killed me on my first outing.

“Sleep dear child,” I started singing the song I heard had gotten some of our greats out of tight missions in the past. His snorting started back up and I was on the bed before I knew it.

Everything seemed to be going well as I made my way to the pillow when the bed surface started to shake. The little human was not so little when he was out of the job posting mirror. He was rolling and if he had rolled anymore he would have crushed me. That is when I started running. With a flick of my wand the tooth was in my backpack and the twenty was under his pillow. Despite the risk, I turbo blasted out, because my legs and arms had no power to be spared.

“You did great,” my father cheered when I came back to headquarters.

“Really,” I asked placing the tooth into the shadow box I bought in preparation of my first gig.

“Yes, you forgot to close the window behind you, but other than that I didn’t see any major mistakes.”

“The window,” I sighed. “I knew I forgot something.”

“We all do at some point. I remember my first time, back than it was a quarter a kid,” he smiled.

“Back then you could get a blue twill slurp for one tooth too. The more money we give the more children are willing to believe in us. We need all the believers we can get to make it as a tooth fairy in our society,”

“I am so proud of you for carrying on our legacy. That was a sight to watch.”

“It was a rush to experience too,” I couldn’t imagine any other occupation.

Shannon: “Did you see who they paired you up against,” Amber questioned immediately after she sat down across from me at the lunch table.

“No I was too afraid to look myself, but who is it,” I asked, trying to remain calm.

“Mags,” Amber barely uttered the word audibly. There was too much danger to speak openly about her without repercussions.

“So that’s what all the pity looks in the hallway were for,” I confirmed my suspicion as I looked around at all of the other students attempting to read my emotions. They were cowards themselves though as they always look away as soon as our eyes made contact.

“What’s your plan,” Jade spoke under her breath, as she looked me over.

I looked for Mags until I spotted her in the lunch line. I could only observe the back of her head, but everyone was giving her more than an arm’s length space to show their respect for her wishes. “I’m getting out of it,” I decided before standing up to walk over to her.

I cut in front of her and took the piece of dessert the chef had made specifically for her before she could grab it. My heart was pounding and I couldn’t look at her.

“What are you doing,” Mags growled. “That’s mine,” she grabbed my arm and I knew I couldn’t overpower her. I had to move fast, so I quickly shoved my face into the frosting taking a big lick and making a mess of face.

I could bare look up at her with a cocky smile, before her fist made contact with my face and I hit the ground. The lunchroom went into a panic, trying to get a look at our fight. I made a poor attempted to block with my arms to protect my face as she started whaling on me. Help eventually arrived in form a teacher. She broke us up with an ear-piercing whistle, “Enough, enough,” she yelled. “There is no fighting outside of our control locations,” she explained to both of us. Let this be a lesson to all of you,” she called out. “Both of you will be disqualified for the year. No more competitions, no more prizes. You’re done,” she said it like it was a bad thing. Mags immediately went to her to grovel.

My friends kneeled down to my level. “Are you ok? You’re crazy,” Amber checked my face, and I turned my head away to spit out my tooth into my hand, and then smile back at them.

“You’re a genius,” Jade smirked.

Someone is going to literally loose it.

Writing Prompt: Day 23

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Day 23 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a seemingly bad situation that turns into a positive life change.

Erin: “How have you gotten to be where you are today,” the interviewer asked her broad and open-ended question.

“The biggest driver of my success has been resilience,” I gave my broad and open-ended answer. To be honest I frequently liked to test the skills of the interviewers I encountered. Being too talkative wouldn’t challenge them.

“How so,” her game was weak. She seemed too nice for me to continue on though, so I decided to make life easy on her and open up.

“This all started with my 6th concussion. I was dead set on playing college ball, and made sure to be back on the field quickly and as consistently as possible.”

“What sport did you play,” she clearly had not done her research.

“Football. My doctor recommended that I quit however. I was playing varsity as a freshman and we were a shoo-in to go to regionals. I couldn’t give up that easily,” I remembered back to my emotions that day.

“What did you do,” she interrupted my flashback.

“There was a chance that my brain could be permanently damaged if I continued, so my mother demanded that I quit. With my plan to go pro my brain didn’t seem to matter, but as a minor her opinion was the only one that mattered.”

“What does that have to do with resilience? Did you find a way to play?”

Her interest in the story was becoming slightly adorable, “Not quite. I hated my mother for ruining my chance at the NFL. I had to channel my anger somewhere and that place was the piano. Now I see how important a healthy mind is and I know how much more passion I have for music than I ever did for sports.”

“Wow,” her jaw hung open. She looked like a cartoon.

“I called my mom to thank her when I released my first album.” She giggled. “I used to think getting back up was resiliency, but resiliency is actually knowing when the universe is telling you to stay down and reach for other dreams. Having the strength to change direction is sometimes, if not most of the time, more noble than having the strength to struggle through.”

Shannon: “Maybe you’re not meant to be a singer. You don’t have the look. You have a basic voice. Maybe it’s time to consider another career,” the casting director advised with a straight face.

“So what are saying? I should try out for acting-only roles,” I hoped he’d give me some genuine advice.

“Do you want my honest opinion?”

My mind was screaming no, but my head nodded. I wanted the opinion of a person in his position, but I didn’t want to be discouraged if he was wrong about me.

“If I were you, I’d stop auditioning completely. Stop wasting your time. It’s not going to happen. I’ve seen a lot of young girls like you stick with this until they burned out with nothing to show for it. Life can be a lot easier if you stop chasing an unreachable goal.”

I tried to hold back, but the tears were building up, “But there’s nothing else I want to do,” I shrugged, hurt. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You’ll figure it out, and you’ll be surprised. I’m sorry, but we have more auditions and your time is up. Good luck,” he was still stern, but honest, and even though it was hard to hear, I believed him. No more auditions.

Once I walked out the theater into the fresh air I considered going home to cry and pity myself, but I’d done that enough already in life. I wanted to know where I was going. I wanted to find my new passion, my new love. The world was open to me. More open, I suppose, than it was for the people who already knew who they were.

I still wanted to spend my days singing, but I didn’t know who my audience was going to be anymore. As I walked downtown I paid more attention to the world to around me. I started a list in my head as I encountered people to sing to: people in bars, people at weddings, people in parks, animals, even objects.

I sat down at a bench in the park to take out the ukulele I choose to audition with to try to stand out. I just started playing. I didn’t want money, or to get noticed, or to simply have one person finally hear my song. I just sang, and belted it without any fear someone could stop me to tell me they’d heard enough. It felt good to go on uninterrupted, and to do it for myself. I felt happy, like I was actually doing what I loved. After I strummed my final note, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

Look on the bright side of the prompt.

Writing Prompt: Day 22

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Day 22 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Make your character a prodigy at something mundane.

Shannon: Carl had a strange gift, but one that we all appreciated. He could clean up snow like no other, and never needed the help of any machines. Even when assistance was available, he’d never accept the help. They would only get in his way.

He told us he was going downstairs to clean up the parking lot about fifteen minutes before our workday was over. Everyone in our department immediately went to the windows. We never gave up the opportunity to watch, because the way he worked was nothing short of a dance.

His only tools were a shovel, a bag of rock salt, and his preferred blue and sliver snowbrush and scraper. He started with the sidewalk, shoveling it in a maze like pattern and releasing the build up with what looked like the flick of his wrist. After he was done he sprinkled the rock salt like confetti, spreading it with so much joy.

Next he moved onto the cars, he’d go around in the morning asking all of the employees during every snowstorm if they minded if he cleaned their car. Everyone was too grateful and trusting to deny his offer. Still he would ask anyway, too respectful to go on without permission. He was dusting the snow off the cars as if he were fighting off their demons, but still gentle on their structure as he scrapped away the ice hidden underneath. Snow was surrounding him like glitter. The way he cleaned snow turned the task into an art form.

Erin: “Do you have one of those folding mechanisms like they have a clothing stores,” my mom asked as she strolled into my walk-in closet.

“No,” I leaned on the door of the closet.

“So, you just folded these shirts like normal,” she asked holding up a white tee.

“Is that so hard to believe,” I didn’t get why she was so surprised. When I lived at home she always put my clothing away, but that didn’t mean I was incapable of doing the task on my own.

“The hems are perfectly lined up with the fold. It looks like a machine did this. You must spend hours putting this closet away, she continued to speculate.

“No longer than the average person,” I argued.

“You’re too much of a perfectionist, there is no need for them to be folded this perfectly,” she grumbled unfolding the top one.

“I don’t care if they are folded perfectly,” I illuminated fixing it within a few seconds. “I’m just good at folding.” I walked out as my mother looked to my closet in wonder.

Even something plain can be made amazing if someone has a talent for it. What is your character’s.

Writing Prompt: Day 21

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Day 21 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Give us insight into your character by describing their wardrobe.

Shannon: “Was grandma ever in any plays? I asked from the closet, pulling out an outfit with a black plastic cover and set it on the bed.

“Yeah. I’m sure it’s been mentioned to me a few times, but I have never been told many details. Why,” my father answered.

“I found a few of these in the back of closet,” I unzipped the cover, revealing a beautiful, green renaissance dress. “Looks like she’s held onto a few outfits.”

“Whoa,” my cousin, Amber, ran up. “She must have looked breathtaking in this,” she sprawled out the skirt to get a better look.

“Karen,” my dad called for his sister, who was looking through grandma’s photos, trying to figure out who should get what.

“Do you need something,” she questioned as soon as she was in the doorway.

“Do you know anything about the plays mom was in?”

She shook her head, sadly. “I used to ask, but she would always brush the conversation off. That women was so stubborn,” she wiped the corner of her left eye, and smiled. “But I did find some pictures. Why are you asking now?”

“Elise found some costumes,” my dad explained as Amber held it up to twirl dress around a bit.

“Oh my…” Karen didn’t finish her thought as put her hand over her mouth. “I asked her if she still had the costumes she made, and she told me she got rid of all of them.” She walked closer to examine its details. She smiled with a few more tears running down her face. “Let’s find out what else she kept.”

Erin: Tyler dressed for very few occasions, he always wore the same thing. A tee shirt and shorts would work for everything. Sometimes he would swap out his athletic shorts for khakis in events like formal weddings or awards ceremonies. If he really wanted to impress he would wear a polo shirt. His favorite combination was orange short and a black shirt with blue writing and a hole in the armpit.

I can remember a few times where he had to wear a button up and tie for a school performance. I would have said he looked nice, only all I could see was how stiff he was. Tyler wasn’t himself in those black pants, and I couldn’t blame him when he ripped them off the second he was home. Tyler may have been at risk for frostbite at times with his fashion choices, but at least he knew how he was happiest.

What you wear says a lot about you… I think they say that… What do you say?

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!