Day 136 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a day where everything goes right.

Shannon: I had an amazing dream last night where I was on vacation at a hotel I’d never be able to afford in my lifetime. I was surround by my friends, my boyfriend, and breathtaking views. It was so vivid in my memory that it was like it actually happened. I woke up while we were parasailing, and although I was upset it was over I was also grateful. My mind could have taken me anywhere last night, and it gave me something good. It didn’t matter if it was real or fake. It still made me happy, so I woke up ready to start the day.

Soon after waking up I got a knock on the door. My neighbor was in a rush but handed over some homemade muffins her family couldn’t possibly finish, and they were the best muffins I’ve ever tasted. I made a note to ask her for her recipe, and beg her to teach me her ways.

I got an early start so I was able to make the early bus, but not long after getting to work the power went out to the whole building. We sat there for a while, useless without our computers, until they told us they couldn’t get anyone in to fix it until late afternoon. Free day off, I should make the most of all this good luck.

Erin: I am a perfectionist, so it is no surprise that I needed everything at my wedding to live up to my very high expectations. Everything I wanted to happened was planned down to the minute. It did.

That’s the part I didn’t account for. By the end of the wedding all I could remember is that everything went just as I had pictured it in my head. Not a single noteworthy story of trouble and shenanigans popped up in my head. In that fact, I had made a major mistake.

Imperfections were what made a wedding one’s own. Imperfections where what made people individual. Loving Jays imperfections was why I had married him. In controlling my wedding I had drained all of the life from it. If I could do it all again I’d be more careless.

Remove all of the conflict from today’s writing.

Day 135 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a day where nothing goes right.

Erin: I woke up one hour after I needed to be at work. When I got outside my car wouldn’t start. All of my neighbors were already gone so I had to call the shop down the road. Another hour passed before I was on the road. I got pulled over because I was speeding in an attempt to get to work sometime close to my shift. After I was given a ticket instead of a warning a nail popped a hole in my tier. I didn’t have a spare so I had to call she shop again. And I called my boss, because there was no way I was going to try and continue my day. I was going to lock myself in my house where I was hopefully safe.

Shannon: My morning started with me spilling hot oatmeal on my hand, leaving a red burn mark I was sure would irritate me the entire day and maybe longer. I should have known the day was going to be a mess from then on out, but I had to hope things would get better. Well, that was before I popped a hole in my tire, and had to walk my bike to work. No surprise that made late to my shift, and of course my boss was there to see me and write me up for a warning strike.

Turns out it didn’t matter. I was supposed to start out the day by running the Ferris wheel, but it broke down last night. I soon learned that meant I was on garbage duty. Forget hope, I just need to survive the day.

Your character may not be able to catch a break, but maybe you can by writing about it.

Day 134 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character paving their own path.

Shannon: “What are you doing,” I asked my older sister as I watched her packing her things into a suitcase. “Are we going somewhere? Is it a surprise?”

She pushed her lips to the side and sat me back down on the bed. “Sorry, but this is actually just a trip for me. You should go back to bed. You’ll be tired for school tomorrow.”

“So will you,” I quickly refused.

She smiled, “Do you want to be in on a secret,” she questioned, knowing I loved to know information other people didn’t.

“Yes,” I eagerly got closer, putting my ear up in perfect listening range.

She let out laugh. “First you have to pinky promise not to tell mom and dad,” she held out her finger, “And you’re the one who told me how serious this kind of promise is, so don’t agree if it’s too hard,” she warned.

She sounded like she didn’t think I could do it, so I had to prove her wrong. “I can keep your secret,” I quickly wrapped my pinky around hers before she could take the offer back.

“I’m running away,” she quickly revealed, carefully watching me, witnessing the fear wash over my face. “It’s not that I don’t love all of you anymore. I just don’t have any freedom to live my own life. I can pretend I can ask for it, and someone could give it to me, but I feel bound by everything I’m connected to. I just want to break free. Do you understand,” she questioned, nervously.

I shook my head, “Don’t go,” I moved forward to hug her, trying to persuade her to stay the only way I knew how.

She seemed torn. “If I stay I’m living someone else’s life. It’s a fine life and I’m sure it would have great moments and I’d be with you guys. If I go I’ll finally be free to find out what I’m capable of. I can’t live with myself if I don’t find out.”

I didn’t understand a word she was saying. I only knew that I wanted her to be here in the morning, so I started crying into her stomach.

“Do you feel that,” she questioned.

“What?” I looked up at her.

“That thing that makes you cry,” she explained and I nodded. “I feel that everyday I stay hear, pretending to be happy as somebody I’m not. I want you to feel better, do you want me to feel better too,” she smiled, holding me tighter.

I nodded, reluctantly.

“Than you have to let me go.”

Erin: “Do you have your homework,” Mrs. Ray asked Ron when she got to his desk.

“No ma’am,” he answered honestly.

“Again,” she sighed. “Please see me after class.”

He did. “You wanted to talk to me.”

“You have not been doing your homework for weeks. What is up with you Ron?”

“Well, I’ve been observing my fellow classmates and have realized the effect homework has on our grades is heavily disproportional to our tests. I’m only going to be young once, and don’t see the point of wasting my time on it. I can do well on the test by just coming to class, so that is what I plan on doing.”

She was not sure what to say to him, so she just dismissed him, planning on following up at a later date, though it never came. Honestly, he wasn’t wrong and if he wanted his grade to reflect his choice that was his right.

Write about a character finding their own route.

Day 133 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a group that is stronger together.

Erin: “What are we going to do,” Malinda started to stress. “We have to get up there in 10 minutes and two of us our missing.” She was the one who made sure we got our things done in plenty of time. Because of her we didn’t have to pull any all-nighters. When crunch time came she still cracked though.

“Found a typo in the paper,” Landon informed us. He was our perfectionist. He just did his thing with every revision he made.

“ETA for Brit and Cas is 2 minutes,” I continued my moderator duties.

Malinda’s leg did not stop shaking until she saw Brit step into the door. “Look at this presentation,” she pulled it up on her phone. It was impressive. She was the creative that made the rest of our slop look good.

“We should go first,” Cas nodded her head, she didn’t do a dang thing. Which don’t get me wrong, didn’t make her a weak link. Once we got up there, no one could think on their toes in front of a group better. She was a master of preforming and made all of our other work worth it

Shannon: Ever been a part of a group that functions so well together, you forgot how you ever got by on your own. It’s like you’re each a gear, and no one is forced into their role, they just ease into it, knowing exactly what they need to do at the perfect time. There’s something calming about working with that kind of trust, and sometimes I just have to take a step back and admire it. For once in my life I know where I belong.

Your characters are stronger together, than any of them alone.

Day 132 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character in a peaceful place.

Shannon: I love floating in a pool. Ears below the surface, body weightless. The second I become one with the water I crease to exist as a human with a lot on her mind, one with many responsibilities, and one who could be doing so much more with her time. Right now I feel the sun shining on my face, and I can’t think of anything more important then to stop running and just enjoy the moment. A moment where time stands still.

Erin: My husband sent me off to the spa to relax me. Little did he know, the last thing I needed was the peace and quiet he granted me. The entire time that she was working out my tension I was stiffening more and more. Because I was thinking about the triplets tearing there room up, Rachel sneaking out with her boyfriend, and Mary coming home from school after dealing with her bully. I pictured them eating sugary cereal and watching scary movies until they were overly energized and running around the house terrified. I could not get my brain to stop spiraling until I was home, in the middle of the mess, with the power to change it.

Give your characters a little peace.

Day 131 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a story with a strong focus on the sky.

Erin: The night sky talked to me.

The stars told me where I was from.

The moon told me where I was going.

In the country, I felt whole.

The city made me feel like half of a person.

When the clouds blocked my view my life was stagnant.

When it was blocked by walls or lights I just yearned for making the problem go away.

In the daytime I was drained.

As a human I didn’t function well.

I was made a creature of the night.

Shannon: I woke up when I heard her old bedsprings creaking from her side of the room. She got up every night and I always woke up soon after, but I’d keep my eyes closed. I listened to her open the door and walk out, barely able to hear her steps fade down the stairs.

As soon as I could no longer hear her feet, I’d go to the window and wait to see her out there looking up at the sky. When I first caught her looking up, not long after she joined our foster home, I thought there was something mystical about her actions, like she connected with the sky, and she longed to spend her nights admiring its presence.

Then I looked closer, and I realized she wasn’t just staring. She was looking for something.

I traced her steps as quietly as I could, and whispered her name when I found her lying on her blanket in the backyard. She wasn’t startled, as she calmly raised herself to her elbows. “What are you looking for,” I asked, needing to know.

“They’re coming back for me,” she replied before tilting her head back up. Afraid she had already looked away too long.

“Who are you talking about?” I bit my lip, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

“My family. They promised they’d come back for me,” she didn’t look away. She was so confident.

“Do they fly a lot,” I questioned moving to sit down next to her, trying to make sense of it.

“Yes, that’s the only way they can travel when they come to Earth.” I waited for her to crack a smile but she was serious. Great, my roommate was either delusional or an alien. Actually come to think about it, foster life could be dull at times, and this could be entertaining for once.

“Ok,” I nodded, joining her in looking up. “Can you tell me about them?”

How does the sky drive your story?

Day 130 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about someone who is in a rush.

Shannon: “Can’t stop,” I put up my index finger up to block Rachael the second I saw her spot me from a few feet away.

“You can put up with me until you to get wherever you’re going,” she bypassed my statement.

“I’m really not in a good mind space to focus right now. I have seven places I need to get to in the next two hours, and I’ve already set myself up to fail. Do you want to talk later, when I will actually listen?”

“No, no. I don’t want to talk I just have to give you something,” she kept up with my pace as she swung her bag in front of her chest. “Here,” she handed me a tightly folded note. “It’s from him. I promised I’d get it to you.”

I stopped and let it drop to the cement. She quickly picked it up for me. “Why?” I squeezed my hands into fists. “I just told you I need to get shit done. I do not need that right now,” I scolded as I pointed at the paper.

“Then put it in your bag and read it later.”

“No, I can’t have it within arm’s reach, I’ll never be able to avoid it. You keep it until later, and I will try to forget I ever seen it,” I checked the time on my phone. I was already late. Why was still not moving?

“I’ll lose it, and I can’t be held responsible. No one can write or say the same thing twice. I did my part, I’m sorry, but it’s yours now,” she shoved it in my hand, and ran pass me, like we were kids playing tag.

Erin: Dear Journal,

Why do I have you? The days where the most happens, I don’t have time to stop and write about it.

Love,

Busy

Why is your character rushing around?

Day 129 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about someone who is in their own little bubble.

Erin: If I know that I am living in my own bubble, does that count as living in my own bubble? I mean, I am fully aware of reality. I am fully aware of how a normal person should react, but my past experiences don’t allow for that. I can’t just pretend I am okay with this situation. I know I am living in a bubble and looking out on the world. But I have no interest in the life people are living out there.

Shannon: My life can be encapsulated in the space of my self-drawn bubble. What I’m willing to do, who I’m willing to spend my days with, and where I’m willing to go all live in this bubble. I’m safe under the shelter of its dome. Yet, like most bubbles, mine is transparent.

I see what happens on the outside, and it makes me smile. I want to join in the fun, but I’d have to break my bubble to do so. That terrifies me. I’d be venturing out with no shield for protect when things go wrong, and for me they always seem to go wrong.

So do I wait in this bubble until bravery befriends me? Or, do I pierce the barrier now and welcome whatever chaos comes my way?

Limit your character to there own little reality?

Day 128 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a loss of trust.

Shannon: The worst thing about losing trust in someone is that the burden is hardly felt by the person lost it and wholly felt by the person who gave it. When you lose faith in someone you see them in a different light. It’s a view you wish you could reverse, but you can’t. No matter how much you try to believe they’re the same person you used to know, you realize what they’re capable of. They let you down, and that doesn’t mean they’re going to do it again, it just means they can. You used to believe they’d never hurt you and they’d have your back in any battle. Then you witness them abandon you right as the knife goes into your back, or worse they’re the one holding the weapon. Some things you can’t forget.

Erin: “I’m done with you,” my lab partner grumped putting away his books.

“Why is that,” I decided to humor him on the way out the door.

“You made me fail man,” he hit my shoulder.

“On the test? How is that,” I countered.

“Like you don’t know that I copy you,” he said like it was some obvious fact. The teacher thought so too. That’s why we arranged for me to hand in a test with the most idiotic answers. When he had all of the same ones we knew it was true.

“Trust me everyone knows,” I scoffed vowing to never blindly trust an assigned partner again.

Trust is a valuable asset, how is it lost in your character?

Day 127 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a millionaire who looses all of it or a poor person who just gained millions of dollars. 

Erin: I was the one investment that Charles refused to let go. One might think that a personal assistant in his financial state was ridiculous. However, without me he would have had so many small expenses I spared that did make me valuable. If there was one thing I did know how to do, it was being cheap.

“Where do you think, we are going,” I questioned as he got ready to turn into the parking lot of his favorite restaurant.

“To eat. I deserve a little treat,” he elaborated.

“Well then let’s go to McDonalds.”

“Micky whody whaty,” he questioned.

“9^th street,” I instructed, continuing to give directions until we were parked.

“Do we seat ourselves too,” he asked still upset about the lack of valet.

“We order at the counter. We can instruct them that we will eat here or we can take the food to go. That way we can eat at your place”

“What is a Big Mac,” he started.

“Don’t mind that section of the menu. Let’s focus on the value menu,” I took my hands and turned his head to the section with the best deals. I could see the disbelief in his eyes as he turned slightly to see the prices of the items.

After some grumbling and fussing, he placed an order. He decided to eat there as the smell of the food had no place in his home and before I knew it he was humming with pleasure into a bite. Not shortly after he was asking a woman if she had tasted the French fries which to him “were just divine.”

Shannon: “That’s a crazy story, so they didn’t let you keep anything,” I questioned, taking another pan off the pile to scrub it down. He was working on stacking the rinsed ones for the dishwasher.

“Nothing but the clothes on my back,” he shook his head. “And the first thing you decided to do was steal food from a restaurant?”

“Is it stealing if I’m working for it now? I mean I didn’t dine and dash,” he shrugged, looking pretty proud of himself.

“By taking the food it’s basically a promise you’re going to pay for it with money, not labor, so yeah I’d say it’s sealing,” I corrected him.

“So I’m already a criminal?”

I hummed in thought. “Yeah, but people do what they think they have to when they need to survive. Although I’m surprised someone like you wouldn’t have any friends who could take you in, give you food,” I pointed out.

“I tried that. Apparently I’m not so pleasant. They actually loved seeing me fall on face, so I guess they only hung out with me because I could give them something,” he looked down and started pulling more pans from the water, getting himself soaked in the process. Clearly not used to this work.

“That sucks. I don’t know how much of a jerk you were to them, but fake friends are the worst. They know exactly what they’re doing, and there is something that makes me sick about that,” I scrubbed a little harder on the burnt crumbs I was working on.

“You sound like you’ve dealt with this before,” he seemed surprised.

“You know money is not the only thing people need,” I informed him.

He nodded pressing his lips together. “Oh I know.”

Write about how the rich get poorer and the poor get richer?