Sunday writing chat prompts for 17 Jan 2021

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    • #7054

      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: body, grind, secure, spirit, disappoint. (10 min)
      2. Use the phrase, “I don’t know what to think.” (10 min)
      3. Write about refusing dessert. (10 min)
    • #7056

      I can’t believe I’m doing this. How do I let myself be manipulated by my sister? Probably because I know she’s only trying to look out for me. Since Mom died and she got engaged it’s like she’s gone on a mission to ensure I find a love like she has so I don’t feel like she’s leaving me behind. Now that it’s just the two of us, she doesn’t want to leave me feeling insecure.

      She forgets that I’m thirty-four too. We’re fraternal twins. She’s the adventurous one and I’m studious. She’s blonde, tiny and a bubbly spirit while I’m tall, buxom and the observing type.

      I hate to disappoint her but I’m looking forward to her leaving for her honeymoon so I can have peace again. I love her with all of my heart but being with her has become a grind. I’d rather stick to planning her wedding that worry about dating. I have a good life. Would I like to get married and have a family? Of course. Is it a priority? Nope.

      Nevertheless, here I am, at the Sunny Sunday Bar & Grill, waiting for me date to arrive. As always, I’m early. Rule # 1 for blind dates, always order your own drink. I take a sip of my Old Fashioned and keep one eye on the door and another on the sunset. Knowing this is just a waste of time. Sure, I’ve talked to this guy online for the past couple of nights. There’s nothing about him that piques my interest but he’s one of the few who didn’t immediately send me a dick pic. He would do well enough to meet for a date and satisfy my sister.

      “Sylvia?” A smooth voice says beside me.

      I look up to see someone who is definitely not who I was expecting. Ted, my date, was tall too but that’s where the resemblance ended. Ted was blonde and veering toward a dad bod. This guy was taller, darker and had a body broad enough to make me feel small and dainty.

      “Yes, I’m Sylvia.” I said and gestured for him to sit down. “But you aren’t who I was expecting. I don’t know what to think.”

      “You look much better than the photo Lisa sent me.” He said.

      “Who is Lisa?” Now I really didn’t know what to think. “I’m supposed to be meeting a fellow from…” at that moment Ted walked in and in an instant I could see his photo had been taken several pounds ago, he was looking Dad bod in his rear-view mirror. While I’m not terribly superficial, hell I’m not exactly svelte myself, I do value honesty. I sighed, “I’m supposed to be meeting him.”

      We watched while Ted walked over to a woman sitting at the bar. From the back she could easily be mistaken for me. When she turned, I could see she was pretty and almost model thin. “Sylvia?” he asked.

      She nodded looking as confused as I did.

      “Well,” he said beside me. “I guess the choice is yours. You could stay here and I’ll send him over to have dinner with you.”

      “We were just going to have dessert.” I said.

      “Dessert was exactly what I was thinking about when I saw you come in.” He grinned. “You can stay here for dessert with him or we can get out of here and get to know one another while they figure out the mix-up.”

      “She’s the one you were supposed to meet?”

      He let out a breath, “My sister-in-law thinks I work too much. I was meeting a friend of her friend to get her off my back.”

      I laughed. “Same here. My sister is getting married and is afraid I’ll be alone. Ted was the best of the guys I met online.”

      “So, what do you say?” he held out his hand to me. “would you like to go somewhere quieter to get to know each other?”

      I glanced over to Ted and the other Sylvia and saw that they were laughing. “Sure. Let’s go.” I put my hand in his and let him guide me out of the restaurant.

      • This reply was modified 1 month, 2 weeks ago by Sue.
    • #7058

      This is Broker’s entry… having difficulty logging in.

      Jun woke up when Gin unzipped the sleeping bag enough to extract herself. They’d been sleeping together to share body heat. Well, it started that way when Environmentals was having some trouble with the heat in the axial sector. Jun had gently teased Gin about her pajamas, which had feet and were cut to resemble their flight suits.

      Gin was fumbling with the zipper, trying to close it before Jun woke up or slipped out. They had secured the bag up by rings at the foot end to the ceiling, and slept heads down. “Like bats,” Gin had sniffed when Jun tried it the first time. This was in the pre-glacial period, so she was at liberty to sleep on the floor if she wanted, though she expressed a worry of being dropped on while she slept.

      But lowG is nice in that sometimes it just makes more sense to attach yourself to the ceiling. The vets called it “the overhead” and so the mids had started calling it “the underfoot” once they’d figured out that sleeping heads down made sense. There was certainly a unique group spirit in this group of midshippers. The pod was close enough to the hub that it was noticeably larger at the floor than at the ceiling, and Jun found it less claustrophobic to have her head at the big end of the room.

      Gin failed the zipping up, in part because her feet were falling toward the floor just fast enough to distract her and twist her around. “Sorry,” she said, catching Jun when she landed on the floor. “It was bathroom time, and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

      “I’ll go too,” said Jun. The lowG johns were functional but a disappointment, so ordinarily she patronized the normG ones down by the control room where she worked. The joke among the mids was that the suction just went through a filter and out the hand dryers. “I don’t know what to think,” Jun had said. Nobody believed it, of course, and some of them had seen engineering diagrams for the system. She consulted another mid who was in Environmentals. But she didn’t run the hand dryer while Gin was otherwise engaged.

      One problem with sleeping like bats is getting up there, staying in the bag together til they managed to zip it up above their shoulders. It would be impossible in more than a tenth gee or so worth of fake gravity. But they’d been acrobats as kids on earth and so they figured it out.

      There was no getting back to sleep, though, and altogether uncalled-for giggling over the mishaps on the way to comfort. “How did you elbow me in the ribs when your arms bend the other way?” Gin wanted to know. It just made them giggle again.

      “Also, I like the hair straight up over your head look,” said Gin. It took a while for it to settle, and static electricity made it stand out in all directions. But not tonight; something about the humidity and the time since she’d washed it, Jun was thinking.

      “Thank you,” said Jun, remembering her manners. If manners are what’s called for when somebody’s too close to focus your eyes on. Gin’s hair was a sensible inch or two long, like copper wire in both color and texture. There had certainly been times that Jun had wished her hair would do something–anything–besides point in the down direction according to the local gravity.

      After a few minutes of not-sleeping together, they gave up, got dressed, and went down to the midG deck for breakfast. It was earlier than they usually got there, so the dinner service for the overnight shift was still in progress. They snagged a spot to wait, at the other end of the table from Gwen, who was Jun’s relief at the Prop station.

      “I’m not going to have room for my cake,” said Gwen. “Do you guys want it? While you’re waiting?”

      “Well, I guess cake with cherries on top is the same idea as a muffin with jam,” said Jun.

      “Okay, sure,” said Gin. “Pretty much everything else has been upside-down, so far today.”

      Gwen and Jun looked at each other, and Jun was hoping devoutly that whatever speculations Gwen might have about what she did with Gin would remain unspoken. Jun had admitted once in passing that sharing body heat was a good thing when the pod was cold. Gwen had smiled, eyebrows raised, and said nothing.

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