Sunday writing chat prompts for 15 Aug 2021

Home Forums Just the Place for a Snark Sunday writing chat prompts for 15 Aug 2021

  • This topic has 2 replies, 2 voices, and was last updated 1 month ago by Sue.
Viewing 2 reply threads
  • Author
    Posts
    • #7537
      Broker
      Participant

      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.

      1. Use the following five words: island, density, general, copy, sister. (10 min)

      2. Use the phrase, “If it were reliable, it wouldn’t be magic.” (10 min)

      3. Write about almost missing a deadline. (10 min)

    • #7538
      Broker
      Participant

      “We, um, so…” said Eck. “It’s like… I dunno what it’s like.”

      “Not like anything else on this island earth of ours,” said Ann.

      “That,” said Eck. “If you don’t want another slice I should probably wrap up the pizza in foil and freeze it.”

      “I’ve had enough. I could do with another beer though.”

      “Just what did you want to do with that beer?” said Eck.

      Ann laughed. “You’ll just have to watch and find out.”

      Eck scraped the extra cheese off the cardboard and put the box in with the recycling. Then he opened two more bottles and settled on the couch.

      “I mean, the density of some people,” said Eck.

      “I thought we were done talking about Peter,” said Ann.

      “You were, like, kinda… in general terms…” said Eck.

      “Whatever you’re intimating, it’s probably true,” said Ann.

      Eck considered. “Intimating intimacy. I like the way the words gargle around in my head.”

      “Oookay then,” said Ann. “You were talking about something…”

      “Being the only one without a copy of the memo or whatever. Without a, I dunno, gender that’s, like, stamped and sealed and copy on file with the Recorder of Deeds, all official and stuff.”

      “Pff,” said Ann. “The one you have is fine. Ones. The ones you have are fine. Don’t need anybody else’s okay.”

      “It’s good to have yours, though,” said Eck. “Okay, that is.”

      “Mine is kind of not exactly standard, either,” said Ann. “So maybe I can understand, a little. My younger sister is like the girls in the magazines or on tv or whatever. Sometimes I wonder why I can’t do that, but it’s really not me. It’s like she believed it when Barbie told her ‘Math is hard.'”

      Eck laughed in spite of himself. “I’ve watched you writing out Maxwell’s equations and solving them at the blackboard.”

      “Some folks seem to think it makes me more approachable,” said Ann. “Oh look, a girl doing vector calculus. You wanna… (fill in the blank)?”

      “I thought w were done talking about Peter,” said Eck.

      “Zing!” said Ann. “It’s like magic. Works on pretty much everybody.”

      “Notably excepting present company,” said Eck. He put the two bottles on the end table.

      “Hey, if it was reliable it wouldn’t be magic,” said Ann. “Or something. Be careful what you conjure up. You might end up…”

      Eck turned off the lamp with the last sliver of consciousness. Ann was already curled part way into his lap, snoring on his shoulder,.

      He woke with a start, floral scent in his nose, his arm numb on the other side of Ann. She came around, slowly.

      “If we’re sleeping, the bedroom is more comfortable,” said Eck.

      “Hafta pee,” said Ann. But she joined him.

      “You seem to have conjured… something… here,” said Eck. “The whatever you call it between us.”

      “Conversation is what you call that,” said Ann.

      Eck pondered this, wondering if there was something more to it. “I guess,” he said. But she was sleeping again.

      As the room cooled, they snuggled together. Eck woke up enough to roll over, and Ann did likewise without disturbing the rhythm of her snoring.

      Sometime in the night Eck murmured, “When was that homework due?” The big existential angsts could be set aside for more immediate deadlines, which was kind of the story of his life. Time was, just her being there, in his bed, would have been one of those angsts. What to do with his hands while they snuggled, fully clothed. That kind of thing.

      “Tuesday,” came the response, but by then Eck had forgotten what the question was, nis nose pressed into her hair.

      “So I’m not late yet,” said Eck. He woke up enough to wonder why the street light hadn’t moved across the sky with the moon.

    • #7539
      Sue
      Participant

      I sat on the rocky outcrop looking out over the rising tide. As if today wasn’t already a cluster-F of epic proportions, now I sat stranded on this tiny island created by the highest tides in the world until the water lowered again enough for me to make my way safely over the boulders and sand, up the beach to the parking lot.

      I knew better. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been here. It’s not even the first time I’ve been stranded either. Today, the heavy density of my thoughts crowded out my usual observational skills.

      I glanced up at the falling sun and sighed loudly enough to echo against the rocks behind me. Pulling out my phone, I dialed my sister.

      “You almost here?” She asked instead of saying hello.

      “Something came up.” Ha, I made a funny. “I’ve been unavoidably delayed.”

      “Sal, you promised.” She screeched into the phone. “He’ll be here in an hour.”

      And that… in a nutshell, was why I was sitting on the rocks, lamenting my life instead of going to my sister’s house like a good little puppet. I can’t be a carbon copy of her. She’s driven, calculating and tells me I just have to try harder.

      I’m a creative. Always have and always will be. I don’t want her lifestyle and even at thirty-six, I can’t explain to her how much I love my life as it is. Being like her will not make me happy.

      She measures life in rulers and calendars. The thought of it made me want to break out in hives. My philosophy is more… ‘If it were reliable, it wouldn’t be magic’, type.

      I realize she’s still barking into the phone.

      “You had better get her in the next hour…”

      I hung up the phone. No sense arguing with her since I had at least a three hour wait until the tide went out again.

      “Someone doesn’t sound happy with you.” A voice said, coming from my left.
      I jumped, knocking my elbow against the rock I was leaning on. “Where did you come from?” The man who carefully walked around the tall outcropping of rock, towered over me as I sat on my perch. Mentally, I planned my escape, despite the incoming tide even though I didn’t get a worrisome vibe from him.

      “I was sitting in my car watching the tide roll in and saw you sitting out here.” He gestured to his soaked dress pants, rolled up past his knees. “You hadn’t moved in a while and I worried you’d fallen asleep. I miscalculated how fast the tide moved over the rocks. I was just going to fetch you and make sure you got back to the beach safely.”

      “That was either really sweet or very creepy.” I said. “Thank you for your efforts, but now we’re both stuck for the next few hours.”

      “Not to worry, I was heading to a dinner party that a friend’s wife coerced me into attending. “Apparently, she had the perfect woman for me to meet.”

      I looked at him more closely. It was hard to see the exact shade of his eyes in the fading light, and his hair was longer than in the photograph my sister had sent me of her latest prospect. But it was definitely him. “So, Shane. Do you always stalk your mystery dates before you meet them?”

      He stared at me in confusion tinged with suspicion. “How did you know my name?”

      “So, my sister didn’t even send you my photograph when talking you into having dinner with them?” I laughed. “She must be getting desperate.”

Viewing 2 reply threads
  • You must be logged in to reply to this topic.