Starting Prompts, Something to help get us writing...maybe

[CJHill]

I had just started doing this on the old site and thought I'd continue... even though Eisel approrpiated my name...

Previous prompts:

1. "The sun was high overhead..."
2. "Night was her favorite time..."
3. "The small craft approached Earth's atmosphere..."


Chicckoo wrote a response for number 1, Eisel for number 2. No takers on 3, apparently.

So, here's Number 4:

[I]"Tact had never been his strong point..."

[Eisel]

Well, I thought we'd put all the prompts there

But this is cool too.

[CJHill]

Sorry, my dear. Chalk it up to my not wanting to step on any toes and take over... I gave up being a despot for Lent.

If you think I should move it, combine it, or whatever, that'd be cool with me. Just let me know.

cjh

[CJHill]

I'm going to give this one more try.

Include the following line in a short story. Beginning, middle, or end. Wherever.


"Things are different in the dark then they are in the light."

[paloma]

Kind of late, perhaps, and it's amazing how I never seem to follow the rules on prompts, but anyway, this came from nowhere, and now it's here.

---

He slinks from under the bed and fades into the shadows sprawled across the floor, stretching and shrinking with them as he creeps around the room. He waits. Outside, branches clatter against the window. A cloud crosses the sun and clears, and in the sudden brightness a rainbow sheen laps at the edges of the dark. He shrinks back, as flat as the shadows themselves.

The dark spreads, and he follows the shaft of shadow across the room and leaps through the narrowest band of light, pale remnant of the evening sun filtered by cloud and leaf. The sheen envelops him and he wraps it inside as he expands to cover the far wall, drawing in the sun shimmer until the band thins to a line, a crease, then nothing.

The sun continues its retreat. He dares a foray across the dim patch of the eastern window, veiling it in clearest shadow, and as the west glows red he inches along, taking back his own. The moon rises, sending cool white shivers through him as it encroaches, but he twists it into the sheen and absorbs it. He thickens, cloaking the room in dripping dark. He quivers with each star that pricks the night. He waits.

The door opens, and he stills. He retreats from the candle, darting in to snatch the light when it flickers, and racing back to dense, dark safety when it flares. It bobs to the table by the bed and resumes its steady glow as the girl slips beneath the covers. She blows it out, and he skips back from the sudden jerk of the flame, then swirls up, dancing with the smoke.

He creeps in closer. Her arm falls from the blankets and dangles, brushing the floor. He wraps himself around it, warm and heavy. She sighs, and he breathes it in, melding it with smoke and moonlight.

The night howls, and branches clatter at the window. The girl gasps in her sleep. A tendril slips in, spreading out along the sill. It gropes, exploring wall and painting and desk before the solid dark mass of it seeps in. It floats toward the girl. At the candle, it pauses. He condenses himself around it, and it lashes with tendril and light, but he enfolds it into the sheen. A slow shudder runs through them, and then he is still.

He swells again to veil the shadows, and smooths the hair from the girl's face. Her breathing slows. He draws her arm back up, tucking it beside her, and waits.

[CJHill]

It's an interesting story, Paloma. And, for the record, there's never a time limit on any prompt I might post. I'm not big on them myself, even though I enjoy the challenge of writing for a deadline. My prompts are presented as a way to encourage creativity. If it nudges you to write something, then it's done what I intended it to do.

I like the story. It's creepy but I'm not sure I know what it's about. Is the original 'he' a guardian of the girl, protecting her against the encrouching night? At first I thought 'he' was evil... but the ending makes it seem like he's a protector.

I guess I either need more or an explanation.

cjh

[paloma]

I don't know what it's about either I don't know where these things come from... I just write them.

About the only conscious thing I did was to make it to look like he's evil at the beginning and show he's a protector at the end. My take on dark vs light, I guess.

[CJHill]

Well, that's exactly what I got from it so you managed it quite nicely. Creepy, but well-managed.

cjh

[CJHill]

So, here's the next one:

There must be more to life than this.

Again, either use it as is in something or use it as a theme for something. Whatever. No deadline, no limits.

And yes, it was prompted by the mood I'm in at the moment. Why do you ask?

cjh

[Anna]

"There must be more to life than this." The voice echoed, in the hallway, as often before.

"Oh, no." She stomped her foot. "Not this time. I am satisfied with my life the way it is."

"The way it is, child. Are you sure?" The voice insinuated creeping into the corner of her thoughts.

"Yes, I'm positive. Are we clear?"

"Well then. What are you doing listening to me?"

"Old habits die hard." She remained in the hallway clenching her fists against the thin fabric of a white nightgown. "And, that is all."

"Very well. Until next time, then." The voice chuckled leaving her alone in silence.

[Anna]

um... just some dialogue! Saw a girl, wearing a white nightgown, standing in a hallway with wooden floors. fighting her past, maybe?

Oh, and I just thought, well you could have explained some of that in the scene...
guess that's the beauty of learning from writing prompts!

Anyhow, thanks for the prompt, CJ!

[CJHill]

Wow, Anna! That was truly on the creepy side of things.

BTW, we have an October Challenge in progress right now that has a Halloween theme. Seems like you've got a jump on it if you're interested.

cjh

[Anna]

Thought I'd try this to see if anyone wants to pick the thread back up.

Writing Prompt

"It's all been done before."

"If you feel that way put down the pen."

"You want me to give up."

"No, put down the pen and write about it."

"The pen."

"Yes."




Rules

300 word maximum.

Story about a writer's pen.

Writer's pen can be a metaphor for a writing instrument such as a laptop, pencil, typewriter, or author's choice.

You do not have to include the dialogue above.

It's just a prompt.

[Boomstick]

300 Maximum, eh? That might be tough. I'll crank something out, though, I'm itching to exercise my English vocabulary. (Yeah, I'm losing stuff to make room for a second language )

[Anna]

Cool. I'm glad you'll write something :)

Now, I'm wondering what can I write with about with this prompt ... and that's kind of funny :)