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The Sunday Brunch Prompted Writing Chat is an opportunity each week to test your skills at writing under pressure — or to have some fun without the need to be brilliant — or both!
The prompts are intended as both as a challenge and a starting point, open to creative interpretation. You can use these as an excuse to write anything that comes to mind, whether it’s fiction or creative non-fiction or a mixture of both. You can write a separate piece for each prompt, or try to link them all together in a single story.
If you join in the chat, you can add “an excuse to complain about unfair prompts” to the entertainment, too. But even if you can’t attend the chat session, feel free to give the prompts a try anyway (and leave your responses, comments, or complaints in this thread if you like).
This week’s prompts are posted below.
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Use the following five words: scrap, first, transparent, trick, opposed. (10 min)
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Use the phrase, “need to know.” (10 min)
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Write about deciding what to eat. (10 min)
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Renee continued to entertain after Ravyn went home again. It was a few months before their plot to get Becca to move in with her partner April could come to pass, but finally it did.
“Let us help you unpack,” said Renee. “I have my working shoes on and everything.”
Becca laughed, begged a doorstop from Renee, and ushered her in, between the boxes and transparent plastic wrapped furniture delivered by big scrappy, hunky guys wearing the logo of a moving company.
“Hubba hubba,” Renee said, admiring one of them as he went out for another load.
“Hey, don’t give my Becca any ideas,” said April. She leaned in for a kiss in passing, hampered by an armload of books she was moving from the den into the bedroom.
Becca thought this idea was hilarious, and first bent over at the waist and then popped up howling with laughter, scattering hair everywhere.
“Let me… just…” said Renee, as she started braiding Becca’s hair to keep it out of the way.
“Thank you,” said Becca. She took the rubber band off of her wrist and handed it to Renee. “Keeping it on my wrist is a trick Rachael taught me,” she said. “You… know Rachael, right?”
“Oh, yes,” said Renee. “My sister’s wife. And, um, speaking of hubba hubba.”
“Speaking of that, how’s your hubba hubby?” said Becca.
“Okay, except…” said Renee.
“Here,” said April, again in passing, this time dumping a dozen books into Becca’s arms. “Make yourselves useful, if you’re not opposed to work.”
“She was my research administrator in Virginia. Now she’s my everything else,” said Becca.
“Yeah, yeah, take those into the den and put them on the shelves to your left,” said April.
They worked for a half hour or more. Many of the book boxes were labeled as to where they should end up, and Renee was close enough to Becca’s specialty that she could sensibly sort the technical books, so she did that. She started a different shelf for things that looked like April’s professional library, on management and auditing principles and the like. She apologized whenever April flitted in with another box, but April would just snort, wave a hand dismissively, and go for another box.
Renee stood up and stretched. Becca came in holding a box of books, and nearly ran her down.
“Help?” said Becca. “My buttons are stuck in the hand hold.”
Becca sat down on the bed, carefully not leaning away from the box in her lap. Renee surveyed the situation and put her solution into action just as April came in to watch her opening Becca’s blouse.
“Freeing your esteemed partner from her work,” said Renee.
“And from much of my clothing,” said Becca.
“Many of her… assets… are on a need to know basis,” said April.
“I won’t look,” said Renee.
Becca thought this was also hilarious, but couldn’t be very demonstrative with her enjoyment, given the large box of books in her lap and Renee’s help liberating her from the burden.
“Don’t have too much fun in here,” said April, on her way out again.
By midafternoon most of the stuff had been delivered. The unboxing and sorting into a livable space would continue for days.
“Where is my…” Becca started.
“It’s all right here… someplace,” said April.
“I love you,” said Becca, after they had laughed together. “But right now I need my purse and my checkbook to pay these nice hunks… uh… movers for getting our stuff here.”
The movers’ foreman chuckled. “The paperwork is here. We checked off each item and they’re all accounted for.”
“Thank you so much,” said Becca. She handed him the check.
“He is kinda delish, isn’t he?” said Renee as the door closed behind him. “I found the sheets and bedding; you want help putting your bed together?”
“Suuure,” said April. She pawed through the box, putting some things into the linen closet and handing others to Renee. Between the two of them they had the bed in useable shape in a few minutes.
“I took the liberty of making dinner reservations with you folks in mind,” said Renee. “I remember when we moved in…”
“Whoosh!” Becca interrupted, flopping down on the bed.
“What time?” April asked.
“Oh. Five,” said Renee. “Do you want me to stop by and show you the way?”
“That would… probably be good. I remember how lost I got trying to find your place after the tour when we signed up. What do we wear?”
“Business casual usually works,” said Renee. “I’ll let you women tidy up.” She showed herself out.
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I saw the chair at the scrap yard. It was inside a newish looking skip, just outside the entrance. I’d walked towards the front entrance, aware of the glass 6 foot high windows. Glossy and transparent. Not even a grain of dust tickling the glass. Lucky for me, the chair was the only bulk piece of rubbish in an interior resembling a cavernous pit. I felt that if I looked in deeper I might fall in. A trick to the eye. I’m not one for collecting or storing second hand stuff in my home. I can’t stand that musty odour and the aura of another human being’s belongings. Must be something I’ve inherited from my Nigerian ancestry. The idea of an object containing the spirit of that person the object belonged to. The chair looked like it had hardly been used. Nice velvet looking cushioned seat, high back, dark wooded frame. The wood looked of good quality. I stopped with my cloth shopping bag hanging over one shoulder, back tracked and walked towards the entrance. Inside the DIY store I asked one of the muscly looking tradesmen if I could take the chair. The curly haired, front tooth missing man gave me a brief busy look.
“Are you local?” His first words threw me. “I need to know as it’s a heavy chair and you may need to come back tomorrow with transport”
“I just live down the road. My friend will pick it up tomorrow. First thing. Is that okay?”
“That’s okay, love. You’re speaking to the right person. I’m the owner.”
He had smiled cheerily flashing two missing front teeth.
“Thank you. The chair looks brand new” I had added.
“Yes, it is. More or less. See you pretty lady!”
I had waved and walked on. The next day Tom was carrying the chair into my living room. He carried it carefully as if holding a baby, placed it by the window as I’d told him. Not too close and not too far away. Just the right distance so I could look without being seen. I liked to watch the people. Feel that I was part of a community.
“So what would you like to eat Tom? It’s the least I can do as you so kindly picked up the chair for me”
“I’ll let you surprise me. You never disappoint” he added.
This was one of Tom’s tricks. Put pressure on me to think of something to eat that would impress his tastebuds. How easy is that when your best friend is a Chef!
“What about a Nigerian meal. I’ve never tasted this Queen of all Queen’s meals, this egusi soup that you keep on raving about. Sounds delicious. Let me remember the essential ingredients: ground egusi, palm oil, crayfish, bitter leaf, a fish of some kind and then of course the pounded yam”
Tom had this habit of irritating me to the extreme. Of course he knew all the delectable ingredients need to make egusi soup.He probably knew how to prepare it as well.
“Come back in an hour and it will be ready. Just knock on the door, loudly, as the bell isn’t working”
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