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June Writing Prompts

one month ago
Commended by mizal on 6/6/2020 1:09:21 PM
Writing Stuff:
Like many (most) of you, I’ve been in a funk lately when it comes to writing. Feel free to call it “writer’s block” or whatever you like (or even argue about whether writer’s block exists – yes, that’s a thing [to argue about it]). Anyway, I’m told that making writing a habit can help people write. So I’m going to try and do that for the month of June. The idea is that each day there’s a prompt and you write SOMETHING related to that prompt. Repeat every day.
There’s no rules, there’s no points. There’s no competition. There’s no word limit or anything else. Feel free to join in, criticize my writing, or just go ahead and ignore this thread. If you want to try this with me, go ahead and write something. Will I make it to the end of June? Prolly not. But I’ll give it a shot.
So anyway, here’s the list for June:
(Stolen from writerswrite.co.za)

June Writing Prompts

one month ago
What is ANC and why do people adore it?

Anyway I might do something similar for 20 minute writing sprints since I'm trying to get back in the habit of those. But I'm going to make my own list of prompts because these are mostly bad.

June Writing Prompts

one month ago
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Absolute neutrophil count (ANC) is a measure of the number of neutrophil granulocytes (also known as polymorphonuclear cells, PMN's, polys, granulocytes, segmented neutrophils or segs) present in the blood. People enjoy it because neutrophils are a type of white blood cell that fights against infection.

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

one month ago
*flex*

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

one month ago
BTW, you're two days behind, so get to writing...

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

one month ago

Ooh I think I might do this.

mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

one month ago
mizal's June 1: Ogre’s Demise

“Aye, laddie, indeed, the might ogre of that swamp has no been seen in nigh a score years,” the old man said. “Now I was no there the day they brought it down, but I have heard the stories and could tell you a thing or two bout them.” He leaned forward, close to the young man, his breath smelling strongly of a poor fermented alcohol and continued, “But if’n ya forget – all the stories end with the people claimin to have killed the ogre, but na one end with the head of the ogre, the body of the ogre, nah any physical proof o any kind of the fearsome creature’s death.” He looked over at the door of the tavern, then back to the young man, “And as fer me, I be not convinced the creature be dead.”

He stood back up suddenly, then slammed his mug down on the bar. He picked it up and took a long drink, then slammed it back down. He smiled a crooked smile and showed his yellowing and crooked teeth. The young man stammered, “Not dead? But how? Why? What could the creature be doing if no one has seen it in so many years?”

The old man gestured to his mug. The young man understood and nodded to the bartender. The bartender quickly filled the mug again. The old man whisper, “Aye. Many o people be thinkin that the ogre be naught but a beast. Now I not be sayin it be not a beast, make no mistake. The thing be a powerful beast. I heard stories of it taking down entire trees with its bare hands. Men ave had their heads smashed open from the power that beast brings to the battle. Indeed, it be a very powerful beast.

“But that be not all there is to the story! Nay. The ogre, especially this beast out in this ere swamp, be a cunning beast as well. This one be smart!

“Now I know ye friends be telling you not to listen to the crazy old man at The Three Toed Tavern, but tell me this: ha ye ever had anyone show you the body of the ogre? Nah, ye haven’t. I’m tellin ya, that creature is still out there. Oh ya, they say it be dead, but me thinks they just injured it. What’s it been doin all this time? Aye, it’s been regenerating it’s strength and preparing for battle. This thing is smart and it’s just waitin till the time is right. Fer all I know, the dern thing be gatherin allies as well. N think: the monster lives in a swamp – who would know if it were just lyin there in wait? Narry a soul heads out into that place. No one’s been back to the lair because why would ya go there?

“So you uns kin go ahead out and explore that swamp all ye want, but if I were a bettin man, I’d be bettin that you’d not be returning soon, er ever. You git out there in that swamp and you’ll be findin that ogre, sure as can be. And after all this time, I’d be sure it be even stronger than it were before when it took all those soldiers to take it down.”

The young man turned slowly to his friends and said, “Guys? You still want to go out there?”

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

one month ago

Day 1) Ogre's Demise

June Writing Prompts: Day 4

Alright, revert…  easy enough.  Don’t have to do any intense medical research like yesterday, I can just write something artsy and faggoty, or maybe even one of those drug PSA’s.  Going strong, almost halfway through the first week.

June Writing Prompts: Day 9

Et cetera? Uhm, alright.  I might be able to turn this into some sort of joke story.  Maybe instead of et cetera, I’ll just create a story around a world where instead of using et cetera, people have to say the entire list of things they were gonna replace with et cetera.

June Writing Prompts: Day 11

Thesaurus, onomasticon, language reference book, et cet---, ah, I mean, storehouse of words, word list, glossary, terminology, sourcebook, treasury of words, lexicon, vocabulary.

June Writing Prompts: Day 15

Night jar.  Gonna have to Google this one.  Alright well, to begin with, if they’re talking about the bird, it’s one fucking word: nightjar.  Secondly, I really don’t want to write about birds.  What’s miz’s day 15… fucking cutthroats.  God, that would be so easy.  Fuck this shit.

June Writing Prompts: Day 21

That’s just fucking lazy.  

June Writing Prompts: Day 26

So, Shonda Rhimes huh? I take it all back, whomever wrote this list has some fantastic taste.  A bit specific but boy do I have a lot to write about here.  

June Writing Prompts: Day 30

Fucking hell, it’s the last day.  All I’ve got to do is finish this piece of writing drek, press ‘post’, and it’s all over.  So fed up with this shit that I’m not even bothering to copy and paste it from somewhere else.  Please, just let this go smoothly.  So long as the site doesn’t crash or something, I’m in the clea---

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

one month ago
I loled at Day 15.

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

one month ago
mizal’s June 2: Frenzy Block this side, now that side. Hyonn was having a hard time keeping up. His sword was usually called a long sword, but he could barely move it fast enough to keep up with the attacks. The strange animated skeleton had a shorter sword and was swinging it repeatedly at Hyonn, seemingly with endless energy. And each time he tried to swing his sword in for an attack the skeleton would smack him with that bony arm! While it didn’t do as much damage as a sharp blade, those blows were distracting and painful. Hyonn kept blocking the frenzy of blows and thought back to his training. In the yard when he was attacked, it was always so much simpler, even if there were two attacking him. He could predict their blows and was always ready to respond. But here, this skeleton just kept raining blows on him again and again. It took all his strength, effort, and concentration just to defend against that sword. In most battles that Hyonn had been in, the battle was over quickly. Sure, he had adrenaline pumping through his system now, helping him drive that sword, but he could tell that he couldn’t keep this up forever. And at the same time, that animated skeleton didn’t seem to be tiring at all. It was driven by some otherworldly force that was powering it without end. Hyonn knew he had to do something soon or that creature was going to destroy him. Hyonn stepped back a little, keeping his sword up and continuing to block the blows. The skeleton stepped with him, continuing to press its attack. The deep nothingness in the empty skull stared at him as the sword flew at him again and again. He took another step back, still defending, and the skeleton stepped with him again. Then Hyonn decided to take a risk, but he had to do something different or he was going to die. He started to step back again, but quickly dropped into a crouch. The skeleton stepped forward, pressing his attack, but paused a moment when Hyonn ducked. That second was what Hyonn was hoping for. He quickly swung out a leg in a sweeping motion. His powerful leg was more than the thin bones of the skeleton could take, and it fell to the ground with a clatter. Hyonn jumped back to his feet and swung his sword in a long arc, crashing it down on the body of the unnatural creature. It rolled and twisted, trying to regain its feet, but Hyonn kept smashing with the sword, each powerful blow breaking bones and chipping pieces of bone off the monster. As he kept chopping, Hyonn wondered what it would take to end this abomination. There was no heart beating to keep it alive, so he just kept beating it. He soon realized that by using the flat of his sword he was able to break more bones and separate the thing into more pieces. Finally the thing stopped trying to get to its feet, but Hyonn kept smashing, not sure how to tell if it was really dead. He stomped on the creature, breaking more bones, until there were no pieces larger than his foot. He was breathing hard as he watched the creature to see if it would rise again.

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

one month ago
mizal’s June 3: Sacrifice Nolan saw it just a moment before Taylor felt it. While the suits were supposed to be protected against all sorts of cuts and abrasions, Nolan spotted the long, sharp edge of the rock as Taylor crawled across it and through the low opening. These suits were supposed to be made with Kevlar and some other sort of “space-age” materials, keeping them from getting punctured by anything short of, well, everything. But as soon as Taylor slid across the projection, Nolan knew what was going to happen. He tried to call out to her and reached a hand out to grab her leg, but he was too late. She knew what had happened as soon as it happened. Nolan imagined that there were all kinds of alarms going on in her helmet as she turned and rolled onto her back. Her panicked face looked back at Nolan as her hands grabbed around her suit. Nolan shifted to the other side of the hole and quickly scampered through. He reached out and grabbed the edge of the suit that had torn and tried to hold the hole closed with his hand. They both knew that it would never be enough, but it might stop the flow of oxygen out of the suit at least a little bit. Nolan’s eyes grew even wider as she saw him grab the suit. She took a breath and then calmed as she realized what would happen. As one, the two of them glanced across the long and barren moonscape, over towards the main base. They had already been on their way back and their supplies were low. They were clearly way too far away to make a break for it. They both knew that there was no way Taylor would survive. She didn’t even hear the alarm noises in her suit anymore as she realized her fate was sealed. Nolan slowly shook his head. He realized they should have had a plan in place for such an event, but they had been assured that these suits were completely tear-proof. But obviously they were not. He briefly looked over at the projection that had caused the tear: it looked like just another jagged moon rock like thousands of the others on the surface. He looked up at Taylor’s face with sadness in his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. Then he had an idea. He said into his helmet, “Let’s head back.” He tried not to think about her perception of his thoughts. Practically, it would make more sense to head in that direction, if for no other reason than when she died, her body would be closer to the base. She didn’t respond, clearly lost in her own thoughts. She replaced his hand grasping the tear in her suit, stood up, and started walking towards the base. Nolan moved along behind her, urging her to continue on. While he was doing so, he was doing all he could to conserve his own oxygen. His suit finally started giving him alarms, describing the low oxygen pressure and amounts in Taylor’s suit. He looked up and could see they were getting closer to the base, but it wasn’t close enough for them to make it, not with those low levels in her suit. As Taylor was about to give up, still just a short distance from the base, she felt a pull from behind on her suit. Before she could turn around, she heard the disconnect of the oxygen supply from her suit. It didn’t really matter, her tank was out. But before she could sink to her knees, she felt the weight of another tank on her back. She glanced over at her gauges and suddenly they showed more oxygen. Yes, it was still leaking out her suit, but she had enough oxygen to make it to the base now. She almost jumped for joy and turned back to call to Nolan. First she saw the extra oxygen tank sitting on the surface. Then she spotted his body, slowly floating away in the low gravity of the moon.

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

one month ago
simp

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

one month ago
lol

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

29 days ago
mizal’s June 4: Lost and Found Safar looked both ways down the hallway before he walked in the door. He listened carefully and heard nothing. The lights were still on in the hallway, but it sounded like everyone was gone. He knew the janitors and security would be around soon enough, but he also knew he had a little time. He reached out and grabbed the doorknob, but the knob didn’t turn. He paused a moment and checked the hallway again. He was ready for this. He pulled out the old dirty piece of plastic and quickly slid it into the space by the door latch. He pushed it up and down and jiggled the door, pushing and pulling. A moment later the plastic slid into place and the door opened. Before he could step inside, he heard the clicking of high heels on the floor in the hallway, headed his direction. He slipped into the room as fast as he could and gently closed the door, holding the knob so it would make as little noise as possible. He should be safe for the moment. He froze and listened. The footsteps were coming closer. The classroom was full of desks and chairs. He looked over at the teacher’s desk and decided that was his best bet. Quickly avoiding the other chairs in the room he scrambled around the teachers desk. The doorknob rattled and then Safar heard the jingling of keys. He slid under the desk, trying to slide all the way into the space so that he wouldn’t be seen. He grabbed his foot to keep it from sliding out the other side as the door knob turned and he heard the door swing open. He held his breath and listened as the footsteps moved through the room, fortunately in the opposite direction of the teacher’s desk. He thought he could hear someone humming to themselves quietly. He waited as he heard something shuffle on the shelf in the back of the room. Someone called from the hallway and Safar couldn’t make out what was said. A suddenly loud voice from inside the room replied, “I’m coming, just dropping off a few items that were found during pick up!” A moment later the steps were heard again, this time quickly headed towards the door. Safar heard the door swing shut and the footsteps quickly retreating away from the door. He slowly let out his breath and waited to be sure the coast was really clear. His heart was racing, he wasn’t really sure what would have happened if he had been caught hiding under the desk. He knew time was short and that the janitor would be around soon enough. He moved as quickly as he could while still being as quiet as possible as he slipped out from under the desk and headed for the back of the room. He stepped quietly and listened to be sure no one else was headed his way. He reached the back of the room and stopped, looking at the door one more time. Then he reached out and grabbed both sides of the box, knowing he had reached his goal. He finally had his pick of everything from the Lost and Found box.

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

27 days ago
mizal’s June 5: Hope Renewed

“Sal, this is it. We’re pinned down. Come morning, we’re going to be annihilated.”

“Calm down, Anton. We might not get annihilated. We might get taken prisoner!”

Anton slapped Sal in the shoulder and said, “Are you kidding me? Can’t you take anything seriously?” He looked around the edges of the building and continued, “We are seriously pinned down. We’re in an abandoned building in enemy territory. We’re completely surrounded and cut off from our own troops. It’s night time and in the morning the enemy is likely to completely overrun our position. We have no backup, no radio, and no one knows we’re here. And you think this is a good time to crack jokes?”

“Well, I’ve got to do something to pass the time until we die.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Anton moved to the hole that used to be a window in the old shop. He carefully peeked around the corner. He could not see all the way down the street: there was a fog of some type down the road and he couldn’t tell if it was smoke or just some evening mist. He tucked back in to keep out of sight. He called to Sal, “Hey, why aren’t they shelling us right now?”

Sal shifted on the dusty box where he had found a seat and said, “I don’t know. Maybe they don’t like the time of day. Maybe they’re out of ammo. Or maybe even the Krauts don’t know we’re here. It’s not like the two of us are taking up a lot of space.”

Anton looked around and said, “You know what, asshole, you might be right. What if they don’t even know we’re in here? What if they’re off chasing our old unit across the countryside?”

“Hell, we could claim this town as our own then, couldn’t we?”

“Shut UP. We’d be overrun in no time. Two people can’t defend a town, you idiot.” He paused and then said, “But we’ve got to try this. This is our chance. We can get out of here, but we need to do it now. They won’t even know we were here. Come on, let’s go.”

Sal stood up and checked his weapon. He still had a few clips of ammo left, but if they got into a firefight now, they were probably already lost, anyway. He looked around their small room and shrugged. He said, “Well, if we’re going to go, now is as good a time as any.”

The two soldiers stepped into the street, pausing as if expecting to be shot at any moment. They slowly moved down the street to the right and towards the edge of town. Anton bent over a little as they stepped outside of town and into the fields around town. He whispered back, “There’s no one out there, let’s keep moving, we can get to freedom if we can get past that tree line over there!”

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

27 days ago
The problem with these prompts is that they make you write starts of stories, and then you don't continue them.

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

27 days ago
This may have worked better if I forced myself into using each prompt for one continuous story... but then I'd have one pretty messed up story...

Mizal's Prompts (Better Than Ogre's)

27 days ago
mizal’s June 6: Lambs

“What are all those things?”

“They’re lambs! I’m going to raise them.”

Leo looked around at the yard. There must have been nearly a dozen of the small creatures wandering around. He said, “Lorena, what in the world is going on here? How are you going to… What?”

Lorena skipped over to one of the lambs and scooped it up into her arms. She showed it to her dad as she pet its head. “See, look daddy, they’re kind of fluffy!” She held out the lamb and Leo gently patted it on the head.

He looked around again and saw the small creatures wandering about his yard. He watched one take a dump on the side of his fence. He said, “Lorena? How, exactly, did this come about?”

“Oh, daddy! I was in town and there was a man there who said he had too many to take care of, so he offered them to anyone who wanted them. I didn’t take them all, I only took ten! Look at them! See, now over here is Lola. That one next to her is Timmy. The one with the grey on his head is Goom. That’s a silly name, I know. And the one over there with the white feet, yeah, that’s Petra.”

Lorena kept talking and listing off the names of the lambs, but Leo didn’t hear. He had stopped listening. At first he just thought about the mess they were going to make. How much poop could 10 lambs produce in a day? In a week? What were they doing to do with all that poop? Could they put it in a toilet? How would that even work? Do they just flush it down into the ground and cross their fingers?

Then he started to think about the source of all that poop. How much food were 10 lambs going to eat? Actually, he wasn’t even sure what they ate. He looked over at them and wondered if they would just eat grass. And with ten of them, how long would the grass in his yard hold up? And if they needed food, they were surely going to need water, too. It’s not like he had a stream in his yard, and that was probably good because he would guess they’d poop in that, too, and he’d have to somehow clean that up.

How in the world were they going to afford these lambs? He was no farmer. And what else did you have to do with these darn things? Did they have regular medical checkups? What about their fur? Didn’t you have to clean that on a regular basis? Could he shave it off and sell it to help pay for all the food, water, and poop cleanup?

His thoughts were interrupted as one of the lambs made a bleating noise and was quickly answered by the rest. Lorena giggled at the noise. She looked up at her dad and said, “They’re great, aren’t they?”

He smiled at her and replied, “Yes, pumpkin, they’re great.”

June Writing Prompts

one month ago
Why areall them so fag and. boring? They are too difficult and no inspired. Maybe I participate once of the lest faggot themed prompts

June Writing Prompts

one month ago
Select only one that inspire you if you like. Or try them all, knowing they are difficult. The first one was a slog for me: I wasn't inspired at all. But I'm trying to do them to force me to just write words on the page, hoping that as I get used to it, it will get easier (and will become more of a daily habit for me). Or heck, throw the prompt into Google and let that inspire your writing direction!

June Writing Prompts

one month ago
June 1: People As Maddox walked down the street, he could see the people all around him. None of them paid him any attention, they all had their own purposes and goals. Maddox wondered where they were all going. Sure, some were likely to be headed to protest, but it was just as likely that some were planning some looting. He watched as a particularly large man stomped along the sidewalk. He was wearing a black tee shirt that was pulled tight across his chest and his prominent belly. He was wearing jeans without a belt that were clearly struggling against the man’s girth. About every ten steps he reached back to pull his pants up to keep them from falling and probably tripping him. Maddox figured he was probably headed to a protest. There were few cars along the street now as evening fell. It was still a couple hours until the official curfew that no one paid any attention to, so the protests were going full steam. The looting would likely come later, after dark. Maddox was hoping to be home before all that started, though he did consider that he could use a new big-screen television. He looked up and saw a couple of shorter women headed his way. They were both looking at their phones but also talking non-stop to one another. They had matching haircuts: medium-length straight black hair. He briefly thought that they looked oriental, but then he remembered that even thinking that word was now a hate crime. As they passed him, he wondered if it was politically correct to say that they were Asian. He turned and watched them walk away, admiring the contents of their tight yoga pants. His attention was quickly drawn to the skinny fellow that bumped into him as he wasn’t watching where he was going. The fellow looked like a kid, barely out of high school. He was wearing an old blue tee shirt with a faded image of Call of Duty on it. It hung off him making him look even thinner than he was. Maddox watched as the kid moved to the side, looking down the entire time. Something in his backpack made a clanking noise as he moved. Maddox wondered if this fellow was ready for the riots instead of the protests. He reached the end of the street and looked across the main road to the park. There were already groups of protesters there, but he was too far away to understand the chanting and yelling that was going on. He could see a line of people and then spotted the line of police facing them. As expected, the police were in full riot gear with helmets, face shields, and protective body armor. Behind them were more people in camouflage uniforms: clearly the National Guard that had been called up to support. Maddox watched as the people waved their fists and signs in the air. The line of police were unresponsive, simply standing in their line, blocking access to a building and beyond. It was peaceful now, but Maddox quickly turned away from all the people, rushing to get home before everything changed.

June Writing Prompts

one month ago
June 2: Adore “A door? Oh yeah, I can talk about doors all day. You’ve got the exterior doors, interior doors, garage doors, heck, I’ve even got this tiny little fairy door…” The psychiatrist interrupted, “No, John, I didn’t say ‘a door,’ I said, ‘adore.’ That means something that you care about or even love.” John looked up at the ceiling and mumbled, “I’d much rather talk about doors.” The doctor put his pen to paper and wrote something. John watched him out of the corner of his eyes, but the doctor didn’t say anything else. John sighed, hoping that might spur the doctor to action. Still, there was no reaction from the doctor. John decided to try a different tact, “Well then, doctor, what if I talk about a door that I happen to adore? Would that be okay?” The doctor glanced over his glasses at John lying on the couch and replied, “Tell me, John, is there a door that you do truly adore? Or are you just playing games with me?” John smiled and said sincerely, “Oh yes indeed. I mentioned that fairy door, didn’t I? That’s not just a thing I made up: that’s completely real. And yes, there really are such things as fairies and they do indeed come out fairy doors when they have a mind to.” The doctor scribbled some more notes and said, “Well then please do continue. Tell me more.” John got a faraway look in his eye and continued, “Look, I know this is going to sound crazy, and I’m not sure if I’m allowed to say that in here, but this is completely, one hundred percent real. You’re probably not going to believe me, but I know what I saw.” He looked over at the doctor and said, “This is really real, I don’t care what you say.” The doctor said nothing, just nodded and continued to look at his pad of paper. John rolled back onto his back and looked at the ceiling again. He said, “I bought this fairy door. It was at one of those traveling renaissance festivals – you know the type with all the hippies and such. They have all these shops with interesting things in them. And one, well, it had a bunch of stuff hanging on the wall, and they had this one, single fairy door. I didn’t know it was a fairy door at first, it was just some six-inch tall door hanging on the wall. I looked over at it and in the space where some doors have a window, this one had a bright blue gem in it. It sparkled and drew my attention. When I was looking at it, this old lady walked up behind me and told me that it was a fairy door. “I think I kind of laughed and looked back at her, but she continued, completely serious, and told me that they were real. I looked back at the door and saw that it was only twelve dollars, so I figured it was neat and bought it. I popped it in my backpack and didn’t think much more about it that day. “I got home, half-drunk, of course, and unpacked my bag. I happened to have an old hook still on my wall from a picture that fell down a long time ago that I never managed to put back up. Just for fun I put the fairy door on the hook on the wall, then lay down to sleep. It must have been near three in the morning when I woke up – there was a dim light in my room that I had never seen before. I looked over and it was coming from the fairy door. And here’s the part you’re not going to believe: the fairy door was open! It was open just like any regular door on hinges and there was no bedroom wall behind that door, there was something else completely!”

June Writing Prompts

one month ago
This one's pretty fun. If it were a storygame I'd click the next page.

June Writing Prompts

one month ago
June 3: ANC “Duh. Yeah, of course I know what ANC stands for, moron.” “Oh come on, you do not. If you do then tell me what it means then, huh? Come on!” Javion shrugged, turned the box over in his hands, and quickly read the side of the box. He proclaimed, “It means automatic noise canceling, you moron.” Oday replied, “Get off. You just read that off the box. And anyway, noise cancelling is for earphones and junk. That thing doesn’t look like no earphones to me.” Javion checked out the box again. It was a box inside a box. The outside box had been addressed to him. There was no return address, nothing else on the box at all: just his name and address. Strangely there didn’t even seem to be a postage mark on it. He shrugged and dropped that box to the ground. The inner box was brightly colored with a plastic window showing the item inside. The box looked like it was labeled for some expensive headphones, but through the plastic window he could see the item, and it looked like, well, just an angle of pipes. He turned the box over again and could see that it displayed a nice black set of headphones. But looking through the window, that’s not what was inside. He carefully opened the end of the box, ignoring the jeering Oday. Inside was the typical plastic insert and he pulled it out. There was nothing else in the box: there were no instructions, no warning labels, not even any wires or anything that looked like a charging cord. Instead there was just the plastic mold with the angled pipes in it. He looked closer. It looked like someone had just taken two one-inch diameter black pipes and melted them together at a ninety-degree angle. They were all flat black. There were no wires, lights, or anything else. He carefully pried the thing out of the plastic while Oday taunted him, “Yeah, punk, that’s just crap. You been had. I bet you paid a whole lot for that, didn’t you?” As he picked up the strange device, it sort of fit in his hand a little like a gun: a shorter pipe fit down into his hand while the longer end stuck out. As he turned, he suddenly realized that Oday had stopped talking, which was very much unlike him. Javion looked up and saw that Oday was just standing still, staring off into space. He wasn’t moving at all and Oday never stopped moving. He called out, “Hey. Oday?” Oday didn’t move and didn’t appear to hear Javion at all. Javion waved his hand in front of Oday’s face. There was no reaction at all. He took a step towards him and suddenly Oday started jumping around, being his normal self. Javion said, “Dude, what’s up?” Oday replied, “What’s up? You got had, that’s what up!” He kept jeering and Javion looked down at the pipes again. Again he noticed that Oday stopped talking. Then Javion noticed that the end of the pipes in his hand was pointing directly at Oday.

June Writing Prompts

29 days ago
I'll give this a go. June 4: Revert.



A full moon lit up the sky, causing the man to pace erratically in ever tighter circles. His face was pained, tense, and full of deep grooves. The man muttered to himself, but only gibberish came out of his mouth.

Around him were a dozen bodyguards, each of them armed with a rifle. Their suits hid their cramped muscles, and their shades hid their fearful eyes. Each of them knew the enemy was coming, and there was nothing they could do about it. So they stood in the open field, silent as statues guarding a palace.

Sirens sounded in the distance. The deadline had almost passed, and there was still no sign of the courier. The man had stopped his pacing, looked towards the noise like a deer caught in the headlights. He knew they were coming for him.

As the police approached, he finally turned towards the escort. A whisper escaped his lips. "Leave me, signori, and save my son."

The head of security, an old friend, responded, "As you wish, Dante." Then, as he finally turned, he left one word as a last goodbye. "Remember."

Dante held his composure. As the pater familias, he needed to uphold the sacred traditions. He wouldn't allow for all his progress to be undone. He remained until all witnesses left, and then approached, arms on his head. Every step gave him more surety. He would not break. Courage grew at the rotten roots of his desperation.

He saw the cars stop. Agents walked out, aimed their guns on him. They saw he was unarmed.

"I surrender."

Moments later, Dante felt a heavy hit at the back of his head. He didn't awake in the car or holding cell as he expected. The moment a heavy cap was removed, he saw he hung at the center of an abandoned warehouse. Arms wrapped up in chains, making it hard to breathe.

"Welcome, old friend."

Ten feet below him stood the man he had begged to save his son. He knew he was betrayed. The shock hit him before the realization set in.

"Why, Bertucio?"

"Don't you remember? Why don't you ask him?" the man replied, stepping out to show Dante his son.

Chains rattled in response, masking the fearful screams. But during the night, even those were unable to cover up the spilled secrets. The vow of silence had been broken. Dante hanged dead.

"Your father was a weak man. You are mine now, Dio. Remember this night well, and don't revert to his mistakes."

"I'll remember."

June Writing Prompts

27 days ago
I'm always impressed by flash fiction when it works. This is a lot to pack in at less than 500 words, although you do leave a lot of work on the reader to piece things together.

June Writing Prompts

29 days ago
June 4: Revert “Revert? Are you kidding me, Rudie?” The earpiece squawked in his ear as it continued, “There is no way we’re going to revert on this one. You know this took years to set up this meet, so reverting simply isn’t an option.” Rudie spoke quietly, knowing his throat mic would pick up the sounds of his voice, “Dammit, Mert, I’m telling you this isn’t going to work. I’m your eyes and ears on the ground, and I don’t like what I see. We need to call this off.” The voice in his ear was calm, but firm, “Rudie, you’re telling me you have a gut feeling. Look, I trust you and I trust your training. But you need to trust us, too. We’ve got a whole team of analysts here and we’re looking at a thousand times more data than you can see on the ground. You’re sitting in the dark, tucked in between shipping crates, looking at a few people. You’ve got a small view on things. You can’t see the whole picture. You can’t see the big picture. We’ve been over this. You need to trust us on this one and move the mission forward.” Rudie’s gloved hands flexed, adjusting his grip on the compact submachine gun. He looked across the empty space of the dock and beyond the small puddles on the concrete. He could see guard vaping at the bottom of the gangplank that led onto the large container ship. He looked up the gangplank and could see another guard at the other end. He was sure there were more, but he wasn’t sure exactly where they all were. The darkness and the light rain would hide him, but it would hide them as well. He was brought out of his thoughts by the sounds in the earpiece again. “Rudie? Are you still with me? Let’s go. It’s time to do this. You have the green light.” Rudie stood up and stepped back into further shelter in the containers. He relaxed his grip on the machine gun and it dropped until it rested on the sling. He started walking away, into the night as he replied, “No. I’m not doing it. Revert. I quit.”

June Writing Prompts

29 days ago

I have an idea for this one, so I guess here goes.

Day 5- Not to brag

Not to brag, but I've traveled around the world. I worry not about paying for my house, food or medicine. My clothes? People pay me to wear them. I have nothing but ride or die friends.

In my free time, I party hard 

Not to brag but everything seems fantastic. I am strong and not afraid to die.

I do not brag because I can not brag.

Those clothes i get paid to wear? It's the government giving me miminum aid to replace my uniform that has been worn and torn.

The food, housing and medical care? Simple, I am but a tool being mantained. 

That traveling around the world? That is me being sent to some far off corner of the world to fight and possibly die for someone else's ideals.

Those friends who have my back no matter what? I have held them in arms as they died, lying to them that everything is going to be fine. That they will see their family again and live happily ever after.

That nonstop partying? I drink not for fun but to forget. To forget the unholy sound of the IED ripping the lead vehicle apart. I drink to forget the red mist that exploded out of the human being in my sight.

I am not strong because it is who I am, but simply because weakness has caused me so much trauma.

I am not afraid to die because some days I wish I had died on that fateful day. Death is not scary but instead an old aquantice that I have seen one too many times.

I don't brag because I can not brag. I can not brag because I am a solider.

I cannot brag because the best of us never made it home. To brag is to celebrate the fact that I am not among the best of us. In my profession your death can be meaninglessness and random. Another option is that you die while being a hero that saves the lives of his friends in a blaze of glory.

I can not brag but I am proud. The struggles, the scars and the trauma are mine. By making this cross my burden to carry, I ensure that others do not have to. 

I can not brag, but instead I beg. Keep not only my fallen brothers but those of us still in battle either literally or figuratively in your thoughts . 

The worst part? I would do it all again in a heartbeat.  I may not be able to brag, but I have done and experienced what many can not claim and this is because....

I am a solider for better or worse. 

 

June Writing Prompts

27 days ago
Could use a bit of proofreading, but I liked the way it went through and reversed everything after the beginning, and just the general tone and message.

June Writing Prompts

27 days ago
June 5: Not to Brag

“Not to brag? What kind of lame prompt is that,” said Orange. “I mean, tell me to write about something useful. Give me a physical thing, or a cool action, not some lame, I don’t even know what to call that thing.”

“Calm down, crazy woman,” replied the bot. “All is well.”

Orange turned to the box that contained the bot and said, “Shut up you. I’ll do this damn writing thing my way. And I don’t need your help. I just need a damn prompt that doesn’t suck.”

“The prompts are developed using a highly scientific method of selection. Many other prompts were selected and rejected to ensure that only the best, highest quality prompts would remain. These quality prompts were then matched up to selected dates to ensure the best prompts would occur in an order that will result in the most creativity and the highest number of successful participants in the writing prompt event.”

“Are you still talking to me? I’m trying to think about what to write for this lame prompt.”

“Finally, after all the prompts and days are selected for the month, the prompts are placed on a carefully selected background. That background is designed to be pleasing to the eye, but not too distracting from the prompts themselves. It is also selected based on the month for the prompts and to be neutral enough to not offend any people, groups, government, or other bots.”

“I would tell you to shut up right now, but I know that feature of yours is the one that works the least often.”

“After that, the final touches are put in place for the selection of the prompts for the month. The bots have a list of names that have been tested in various focus groups to ensure that none appear too offensive and many will appear gender neutral to ensure that the author’s name does not distract from the list of writing prompts, either. That name is then added to the carefully formatted list of prompts for the month.”

“Why are you still talking, bot?”

“You asked a question about the prompt that was provided for today and I was simply explaining to you why the prompt for today was a perfectly legitimate prompt and that you should go ahead and do your writing for this prompt without delay. After all, if you don’t like it, there’s a second to pick from with the other, less desirable list also posted in this thread. And whether you write to this prompt or not, there will be another, different, maybe worse prompt available tomorrow, anyway.”

“Screw you, bot, I’m not doing this prompt.”

“Nor are you required to do so. The rules in the prompt clearly state that there are no rules. You can complete any prompt you like and you can ignore any prompt. You can decline to participate in the thread completely. You can comment on others posts or not. The point of this thread is to get into a habit of putting words on the page in some way each and every day.”

“Lame.”

June Writing Prompts

27 days ago
This is the most logical explanation I've encountered for that list.

June Writing Prompts

27 days ago
June 6: Lifestyle

Carmita looked through the large glass window and at the huge fur coats inside. She knew that she was going to have one of those coats soon. Soon she was going to be able to buy whatever she wanted. Why? Because she had a new job and she was going to make piles of money so she could change her lifestyle into the one that she’d always dreamed about.

As she walked away from the store and down the sidewalk, she imagined taking trips to Bali, even if she didn’t really know where that was. She wondered if, in her new lifestyle, she would buy a boat and keep it with people to take her places or if she should just rent one when and where she felt like it. She could go hang around in the French Riviera if she wanted to, once all the money came in.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a man slammed into her on the sidewalk, bouncing her off the wall of a building. She looked after him in surprise, but he didn’t slow and didn’t say a word. She called out, “You’ve got some nerve. Watch where you’re going.”

The man stopped and Carmita got a better look at him from the rear. He was well over six feet tall and looked to be almost as wide in his black overcoat. He slowly turned and revealed his scarred face. Her eyes got wide as he pointed directly at her. Before he could do anything else, Carmita turned and ran down the sidewalk, dodging people as she ran, without looking back. She didn’t know what it was about that fellow, but she knew that she had to get away from him, and she had to get away right now.

She turned the corner and leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. She tried to catch her breath as she looked back at the corner. She waited, expecting the massive mountain of a man to appear. No one showed up and people kept walking past as if she wasn’t even there. Her breath finally slowed and she gathered her wits. She slowly crept to the corner and looked back.

There was no sign of the man anywhere. She wasn’t sure why she was so scared of this man, but she knew that she had to stay away from him. She moved down the alley quickly, still trying to keep away from the man. She wound her way through a few different alleys as she headed for her apartment. She slipped in the back door and ran for the stairs. As she turned after each flight of stairs, she kept looking back, expecting the large man to appear. She ran into her room and slammed the door behind her. She locked the door, slid the bolt, and connected the chain. She moved to her chair and dropped into it, exhausted.

She watched the door for a few minutes as she relaxed. Finally convinced she wasn’t being followed, so she pulled up her phone. She started up her app and prepared for her new lifestyle as she checked her stock portfolio.

June Writing Prompts

24 days ago
Well that sure didn't last long. These prompts do suck. Here's something I wrote that has nothing to do with the prompts because it's my game, so I make up the rules: You take a look at the deeper parts of the woods and see lots of darkness. You try and focus on the individual trees and you think you spot movement off to the side. When you look in that direction, you can only see more darkness and shadows. Was that movement just a breeze pushing some leaves around? You see more movement again in a different direction. When you look there, again, you see nothing moving at all. Yes, these shadows are disturbing, there’s no way you’re going to head further in there. If something comes after you, you want to be ready to run and run fast. You wonder if a night in the jail wouldn’t have been so bad, after all. You move to the edge of the forest and look around. The trees here are smaller, but still quite sturdy. There are a few more leaves here as the lower branches of the trees reach out into the field for sunlight. The ground looks a little damp, but at least it’s not covered in dark, moving shadows. You move around a couple trees, trying to find what looks like a good spot to spend the night. Finally between a couple trees you find a space that looks large enough for you to lie down. You carefully lie down in the space and realize that at least some of the leaves will cover you from view from the side of the field. One of the tree trunks should shield you from view, at least a little bit, from the dark forest. As you lie down and close your eyes you can feel the moisture from the ground start to soak through your pants. You’ve already got a little bit of a chill, but it’s not going to do any good to get up and walk around now. You’ve made your decision, so you’re there for the night. You close your eyes and listen to the sounds of the night. There are some soothing bugs that help you sleep a bit. You quickly doze off wondering what tomorrow will bring and dreaming about fame and adventure. You wonder if your parents were famous, but figure if they were, they certainly wouldn’t have left you at an orphanage. Your dreams turn troubled and then you find that you’re wide awake and shivering. The night has gone silent and it is very dark. There is a little light from a few bright stars, but the clouds cover most of the light. You don’t move and try to stop shivering. You can hear some kind of snarl or growl coming from a short distance away. It sounds like it is coming from somewhere inside the edge of the forest, but you can’t be sure. You are glad that you did not spend the night in that place, but you’re not really sure if you’re any safer where you are. Adrenaline fills you as you hear another snarl from a slightly different location. You imagine anything that’s coming out of there is faster than you, so you just stay where you are, trying not to make any noise. A moment later you hear a yowling and the sounds of crashing. It sounds like whatever was growling a minute ago is now fighting something. You briefly wonder if you should run now, but you’re more paralyzed in fear than anything else. The fight only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like minutes to you. You can hear a creature crashing away, that must be the one that was defeated. You hear nothing else. You freeze there, afraid to move, afraid to stay. You don’t know if there’s another one of those creatures standing right next to you. After some time, you consider going back to sleep, but you simply cannot. You lie there staring off into near total darkness, waiting to be attacked by some creature. After some time you realize that you can see a little more: sunrise has come. You actually survived the night. You stay there for a bit more, slowing starting to breathe normally. You’re a little afraid to look back into the forest, but finally you jump to your feet, pushing the branches aside. You take off at a run back towards town, not even taking the time to look back. You’re sure something is pursuing you, about to land on your back at any moment. You finally reach the road and have to stop to catch your breath. You look back to the forest. You’re not sure, but you think you might see something moving inside that darkness. Shaking that feeling off, you and your wet clothes head down the road into town.

June Writing Prompts

23 days ago
Continuing my theme of completely ignoring the prompts but still writing something: You take a look back across the fields and the open space. Glancing up at the sky, you wonder if it will rain tonight. It will certainly be safer is the weather is bad here in the forest. Besides out there in space anything could spot you from a long distance away. There’s nowhere to hide out there. Instead, you turn back to the deep, dark forest and wait a moment for your eyes to once again adjust to the great darkness. You take a few steps slowly into the thickness of the trees. Some of the tree trunks are very close together. There are different roots that stick up in many places through the ground. You have to step very slowly and carefully in the darkness. When you reach out and touch a tree trunk to keep your balance, you notice the bark seems damp and almost slimy. You wipe your hand on your pants and keep going through the trees. You look for a path of some kind through the thick forest, but you cannot make out anything in the darkness. You find yourself stepping around different trees and almost tripping over stumps and roots that appear out of nowhere. The only sound you hear as you make your way through the dark is your own footsteps as you stumble along. You glance back towards the fields and town, hoping that you do not lose your way in the forest. You can see a very dim light in that direction, but you’re not completely sure that you are not already lost. To take your mind off that prospect, you figure you will worry about that in the morning when there will most certainly be more light. You step around another tree and suddenly find yourself in a small clearing. There are no trees in the space that is about ten feet across and oval-shaped. The ground in the center appears to be pressed down and flat. The trees that circle the area are close together, but you can fit between them in a few different places. This space almost looks like a small room in a cavern in some ways. You look up and just see the darkness of the canopy above. Stepping into the clearing, you stop and listen. The entire forest is completely and utterly silent. Slowly you sit down in the clearing, wondering if this is a good idea after all. You squint and try to see through the spaces in the trees, but it is just too dark everywhere in the forest. As you lie down you wonder if this is some place that is used by creatures during the night. You close your eyes and wonder if there are rituals that might occur in this place. You remember hearing stories about witches that have ceremonies deep in the woods and in darkness. Your eyes blink open and you look around, but you do not see any witches in your clearing. It is difficult to go back to sleep. Now that the night has truly come, you have started to hear sounds in the woods around you. There are creaks and groans that could be just old trees bending in the wind, but they might be old hags that are moving about because you don’t feel any wind. You hear what sound like footsteps moving along the ground nearby, but when you look, you can see nothing moving in the darkness. There are some growls and snarls that you hear coming from outside your clearing. You’re not sure what those could be coming from, but you are sure that you don’t want to know. You are glad that you’ve taken cover inside this clearing, you imagine massive wolves and other monsters hunting you and chasing you across the open field in the darkness. You realize that you’re not really going to get a lot of sleep. Then you wonder how you’re going to know if it is morning. Looking around, there is still darkness all around, but you think the darkness is a little less oppressive now. The sounds that you had been hearing throughout the night appear to have ended. Could it already be morning? Slowly you make your way to your feet. Your body is sore from lying on the ground, but you’ve certainly slept in worse places in your short life. You make your way back to the space in the trees where you entered the small clearing and look out into the forest. It is still dark, but you can see a bit of area where it is lighter. That must be the fields. Without looking back, you step out into the forest and away from the relative safety of the clearing. It still takes some time as you work your way around the various tree trunks. As you move, the space in the distance keeps growing lighter, so you know that you’re headed in the right direction. When you read the leaves, you know that you’ve reached the edge of the forest. You push them aside and quickly step outside. You are blinded by the bright light of the morning sun. You stand there, blinking, trying to allow your eyes to adjust. You made it through the night. You walk towards the road back into town, sure that you don’t want to spend another night in those woods. You’re not sure what types of things passed you by in that clearing, but you don’t want to find out. And you really have no idea how to find that clearing again, anyway.

June Writing Prompts

22 days ago
That totally sucked. I tried, but I used the word “you” way, way, way too many times. Today I shall try and completely rewrite that exact scene, but without using the word “you” more than… let’s say two times: ----- Clouds gather in the sky as the sun continues heading towards the horizon. The wind gently blows across the fields, emphasizing how open and empty they are. There is a slight chill in the air that almost seems to push you towards the shelter of the forest. Stepping towards the forest the light quickly fades. It is hard to see in the pitch darkness of the forest after the comparatively bright openness of the field. Stepping into the forest takes some effort: the trees are spaced close together in places and there are thick branches at the edge of the forest. Roots stick up at strange angles and in unusual places, making just walking through the space difficult. The darkness makes movement dangerous, not being able to see where it is safe to place a step. The bark of the trees is slippery and slimy, so grabbing on to them for balance is not a good idea. The darkness is complete in the forest, none of the starlight can penetrate the thick canopy of leaves. There is no path to be found, it is almost as if no one has been through this forest before, or at least recently. There is no sound here, no gentle breeze rustling leaves, no crickets, nothing at all but your own footsteps unsteadily plodding around the trees and roots. With no light and no path, the way forward is unclear, but so is the way back. There is an area that appears just a little lighter back in the direction of the fields, but there is no telling is that is indeed the correct direction. Perhaps tomorrow that will be of more concern, tonight is for finding a safe place to spend the night. The thick tree trunks suddenly give way to a small clearing. The clearing is about ten feet across and oval-shaped. The ground in the center appears to be pressed down and flat as if something had been sitting there some time ago. The trees that circle the area are close together, but there are a few spaces between some of the trees, large enough for a person to pass through. This space almost looks like a small room in some ways, though there is no ceiling, just a pitch black canopy of leaves. Inside the clearing the forest seems even quieter. There is not a single sound. The ground is dry and firm. Lying down on it is like lying on the floor in the orphanage: solid and unfeeling. There are stories about witches who used to meet in circular clearings in the forest, often with pentagrams and other strange symbols. There are none of those symbols visible in this clearing, fortunately. Sleep is elusive on this dark night. Now that deepest night has arrived, sounds have started throughout the forest. There are creaks and groans that might be old trees bending in the wind or they might be old hags wandering the woods, mumbling to themselves or casting minor spells. In the darkness there are footsteps first coming closer to the clearing, then moving away. There are growls and snarls that appear to be a distance away, but they move from one side of the clearing to the other. Could there be more than one creature making these noises? The clearing feels safer than the open field, but perhaps that is because the total darkness makes seeing the strange creatures nearly impossible. Rolling from one side to the other, sleep still does not come. Total darkness continues and the strange and different noises begin to fade. The feeling of pressure seems to lift a little. The darkness suddenly doesn’t seem quite as dark. Could it already be morning? Bones creak and muscles stretch as you make your way to your feet. The entrance to the clearing between the trees is still there: at least the trees were not moving around as well last night. The forest is still dark in almost all directions, but one way appears to be a little lighter. There is still no path and no signs of anyone else in the forest. Out of the clearing the forest appears the same as last night, just not quite as dark. Moving towards the lighter area does indeed lead away from the darkness of the thick, heavy forest. The air seems lighter and starts to move in the breeze a little closer to the edge of the forest. The edge is still covered with thick branches, but just beyond those branches and leaves is the bright sun and the openness of the large field. The sun is bright, it is not early in the morning, and it takes time to adjust to the bright light after the darkness of the forest. Heading towards the road, it feels good to leave the darkness behind. There were certainly some creatures of some kind wandering that forest last night. They may not have entered the clearing, but they were clearly there. Glancing back, you realize that you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find that clearing again, anyway. ----- Ok, that's a little shorter and took a lot more effort. I wonder if it's any better. It feels less immersive, IMO, but I really did use "you" a ton in the first block. But hey, you're the one in the story, so it seems like I should talk about you...

June Writing Prompts

21 days ago
Yeah, that sucked, too.

I liked the first one because it really worked to put the reader in the story. I feel like in the first one the reader knows they are feeling everything that's happening. They are part of the story. But the second one feels more like an outside observer is watching the story. I don't feel like I'm IN the story with that one. Maybe I need to shoot for something in between -- not completely get rid of the word "you," but maybe just reduce it's usage a little bit. Or I could just write it the first way and tell everyone who doesn't like it where they can go...

June Writing Prompts

16 days ago
These things never go too far, do they? I think everyone stopped reading this one after a few days. I'm torn now between trying one more time for a middle-view of the scene above and just strolling on, writing the next scene and not caring about this whole idea of "editing"