Sunday writing chat prompts for 28 Aug 2022

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    • #8735

      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: judicial, cottage, owe, bell, grant. (10 min)

      2. Use the phrase, “very close to the edge.” (10 min)

      3. Write about something that’s urgently needed but unavailable. (10 min)

    • #8736


      The phone said BPD on it, so Josh answered in Sandra’s voice.

      “Sandra Jackson,” he said. Thankfully Steve was out of the office for the moment.

      “It’s Inspector Jackson, BPD,” said the voice on the other end.

      “No relation,” said Josh, and chuckled a bit.

      “What? Oh, the name is the same,” said the Inspector. “It’s about Detective Oliver Cartwright. He asked us to call you.”

      “What’s happened?” Josh said, trying not to panic, trying to remember what panic would sound like in Sandra’s voice. “I’m his… partner.”

      “That’s what his record says, yes,” said the Inspector. “Could you come to the hospital sometime soon? We can talk when you get here.”

      “Has he been injured?”

      “Not seriously. Please try to stay calm. We can send a cruiser for you if that would help.”

      Josh figured he owed it to Olivia to be calm, collected, and for public consumption, female, if that’s what the record at the PD said to expect. The whole cottage industry of inventing gender roles needed to stay off the record at their offices. And off any judicial record that might be forthcoming due to O’s professional activities. She… He… owed Olivia that much.

      “Oh,” he said, realizing the phone line was still live. “No, that won’t be necessary. What room? I can be there in… say twenty minutes.”

      “Thank you,” said the Inspector, and when he’d given the room number, rang off.

      “Girl clothes,” said Josh. He scoured his own collection and Olivia’s and came up with some jeans that stretched enough to reveal curves, and four t-shirts of increasing size. Some product for Sandra’s hair to keep it parted neatly and he was out the door.

      The room was easy to find once Sandra asked which elevator to use. There were several cops around the door, so she introduced herself.

      The radios carried by the uniformed officers all went off at once. “Saved by the bell,” one said, smiling, and excused himself. Officer Watanabe stayed, as did Inspector Jackson.

      “Thanks for coming,” he said. “Oliver’s had a concussion. The doc says it’s not serious, but he was upset until we called you. Maybe you can help.”

      Sandra went into the room, closing the door behind her. Olivia looked at Josh from the bed, and visibly relaxed. “I was pretty close to the edge,” she said.

      “Hush. I’m here now. You’ve been granted a reprieve.”

      “My hero,” said Olivia, and her eyes slid shut. Her hand continued squeezing his for another minute before sleep relaxed it. Josh set her hand down, patted it twice and opened the door.

      “Thank you,” said the Inspector, when Sandra closed the door behind her. “Officer Watanabe will stay here. Would you walk with me?”

      “Of course,” said Sandra. She pushed her hands deep into the front pockets of her jeans.

      “Privacy to talk in a hospital is both really important and completely unavailable, unless you’re the patient,” said Jackson.

      “I imagine,” said Sandra.

      “So as you’re probably aware Detective Cartwright often goes on undercover assignments.”

      Sandra nodded.

      “This one got… a little sticky, let’s just say, and it was his quick-change artistry that let us get him out before the bad guys figured out who the woman coming out the back door was.”

      Sandra smiled. Finally, somehow, all the drag that was their life together, had payed off. Josh would have to remember this, for investigative reporting situations in the future. “O. has always enjoyed, um, theatrical makeup and costuming,” said Sandra. They’d agreed some time before that if it was theatrical it would be less objectionable to the rest of the world, so that made a reasonable fallback position.

    • #8737

      “I didn’t sleep well last night.” I said, hoping he didn’t ask why.

      “Me either.” Chris said. “I know the test themselves aren’t a big deal, but the fear I won’t be a match is stressful. I know I just met Laci, but It would kill me to start our relationship by letting her down.”

      “You know you can’t control whether you’re a match or not, right?”

      “I know but it feels like we found each other just in time to grant her wish of finding a donor.” He knocked his knuckle against the open window frame.
      “I feel like I owe it to her for showing up in her life from our of nowhere.”

      “I thought you said she was excited to find out about you. That she greeted you with all the bells and whistles last weekend when you drove there to meet her.”

      “She did.” He played a beat with his fingers on the outside of my truck. “I feel the pressure of a judicial review if I can’t do this for her. Even though she would probably scold me for feeling that way.”

      “Well, let’s get today done so we know what we’re working with.” I turned up the music as we hit the highway. Businesses and apartment buildings gave way to scattered homes barely visible from where we drove.

      I kind of missed the old route which meandered through cottage country that wound very close to the edge of the lowlands of the Kennebecasis River around Darling’s Island before the waterway broadened to almost a kilometre wide just before the old Gondola Point ferry.

      The new highway was great, it cut the travel time between Moncton and Saint John by almost half an hour, it was just monotonous drive now. Nothing pretty to see except for trees and the occasional patch of land fog after dawn.

      An hour later, I flicked my turn signal and took the hospital exit.

      We would meet Laci and Daniel after Chris finished the testing. Since he was related, they were going to do the full barrage of tests rather than the preliminary one they’d use to screen a stranger. Hence his need to fast for 10 hours. He was going to be starved by then.

      What none of them knew was that I’d signed up to be tested too. Just in case they needed someone else if Chris wasn’t a match even though the odds were against them needing me.

      Laci wasn’t a life-or-death scenario, but she would get sicker as time went on. If there was anything I could do to prevent that from happening, you know I would.

      I haven’t even met her, yet I can’t imagine not having her in my life… and not just as my mentee’s half-sister. If she was half the woman she seemed to be, I wanted her to be mine.

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