Sunday writing chat prompts for 3 Jan 2021

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    • #7036

      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: irony, die, mood, tissue, sound. (10 min)

      2. Fill in the blank: “Love is what happens when _________.” (10 min)

      3. Write about a preposterous excuse. (10 min)

    • #7037
      Sue
      Participant

      After Mikail goes upstairs to get settled, the irony of the situation strikes me. I muffle the sound of my laughter because I’m not sure I could explain to to him if I tried and truly, the explanation fell into the category of TMI. If this was going to work, I needed to keep him at arm’s length.

      That thought sobered my mood. I threw out the tissues Mikail had used to wipe Jared’s face after he ate his ice cream. I watched my husband as he napped on the couch. He had no idea how close he came to dying.

      I quietly put his boots and jacket away before retreating to sit at the kitchenette table. Mikail had brewed me a pot of tea before he left to give me a bit of space. I pulled out my phone and picked up where I’d stopped reading. “Love is what happens when you aren’t looking.”

      Sounds fair. I wasn’t looking for Jared when he found me. I was content with my life and happy to be single. Even though my life can’t be considered happy right now, I’m where I need to be and can still find moments of joy despite the sadness of the situation. Mikail’s presence over the next week or so, is a Godsend. His help will definitely fall in the good column.

      Although, I had to admit, the girls with all of their romantic notions weren’t completely out of whack with their idea about how preposterous an excuse this could be for us to get to know each other better. This was reminiscent of a perfect setup for those ridiculously novels we’re all addicted to. Guy falls in love with a girl so hard that he helps her care for her ailing spouse. God, I’m romance novel fodder.

      I sighed and looked out into the backyard. Just as long as I don’t believe the hype. This isn’t a rom-com. This is my actual life. The guy can’t get the girl because the girl in question is still married. End of story.

    • #7038
      Broker
      Participant

      A deliciously familiar scent stole into her dream. She half-instinctively moved over until the rail on the bed stopped her.

      Zun slipped into bed beside her. She heard the familiar sound as Zun latched the rail on the other side.

      “Zee? Are you in there?” said Zun.

      Susie opened her eyes. Someone pressed a tissue into her hand, and she used it to clear the goo from her eyes. It seemed to build up faster in this… strange sleep.

      “Zun? You’re really here?” asked Susie.

      “Every day, for as long as we both shall live,” said Zun.

      “I should get on with it then, and die, so you can have a day off,” said Susie. She snorted somewhere between a giggle and a cough, savoring the irony.

      “Don’t talk about my wife like that,” said Zun.

      Susie allowed her pillows to be rearranged. “Zun?” she said. “Why are there people in our bedroom while we’re snuggling?”

      “You have spawned a generation of strong-willed women, who wouldn’t take no for an answer,” said Zun. “Buncha pig-headed busy-bodies.”

      Susie put out a hand to her daughter and a grand-daughter. They knew how to rub her fingers so they were less stiff and sore.

      “Tell the story of you and Grama Zun again, Gramma Zee,” said one of the little ones.

      “Somebody had to carry on the legacy of my mother, and Susan was studying to be a doctor anyway, so your… uh, great grandmother? Is that what she is? downloaded a ton of data into Susan’s lap,” said Susie.

      The appropriate sound effect here was supplied by Susan whenever she was present for this story, “Whump!” she said, and then moaned as if she’d been buried by a dump truck full of paper. Which, everyone present knew, was not far from the truth.

      Zun put an arm around Susie’s shoulders. “Lemme help you sit up, Zee, so you can see our child progeny.”

      Karen, the same daughter who had supplied the tissue handed her glasses, which between the two Susans they managed to get onto her face. “It’s good to see everybody,” said Susie.

      “But you were already in love?” the kid wanted to know. She was getting just old enough to appreciate a good romance.

      Susie looked at Susan. “Love is a tricky thing sometimes,” she said. “I mean, we had your mom Karen and your aunt Helen… if that’s not love, what is?”

      “Are you quoting Fiddler on the Roof again, dear one?” said Susan. “Love is what happens when…”

      “When you hang out with the same person too long?” said Susie. She smiled and looked side-eye at Susan.

      “Oh, hush,” said Susan.

      “Love is what happens when the same person gets into your bed every night,” said Susie, grinning.”

      “Oh, hush,” Susan repeated.

      “I mean, it was either her or…” and she waved in the general direction of the corner of the room, where Skud and Webb stood, arm in arm, stooped and disheveled and grey but very much present.

      “Or all of us,” said Susan. “It’s certainly helpful to have more adults around when caring for kidlets.”

      “More people per bed made the house less expensive, too,” said Susie.

      “And having parents of all sorts of different genders was fun,” said Helen.

      “When it came time for explaining ourselves at school,” said Karen.

      Susan let herself out of bed, flipped her grey hair, and resumed her white coat and stethoscope.

      “Later, Sweetie,” she said, and was gone.

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