Writing Prompt | Taking The Leap

Hello!

Okay, I am doing something a little different today, but I’m pretty sure that everyone will like some part of it.

Back in late August, I went through the free Kindle books for story and general writing prompts. There was one book that I thought would help me generate a whole slew of ideas for the holidays. It is called Four Seasons Of Creative Writing by Bryan Cohen. I had plans to use one of the prompts about summer in September but I didn’t have enough time to get anything down so once I found this one I immediately got everything planned out in my head from the moment I read it and now that I’ve literally caught myself watching the leaves fall down our trees in our backyard, the more I have wanted to write about this prompt.

I based this story on Bill and Will from the film Happy Feet 2 and if you haven’t seen this one before, Bill and Will are krill living in the same area as Mumble and the rest of the colony of penguins. They go on an adventure to find themselves, out of their meaningless life as food for the whales, seals, etc in the ocean.


Create a conversation between two leaves that are about to fall from a tree. One is scared and the other is excited about the long trip to the ground. What do they talk about and why?


Ohhhh… I can’t do it. There’s just no way I can get through it. I’ll die, I just know it. Why doesn’t Leaf or the rest of the family understand my genuine fears of breaking ground? That’s it! I’m not going! I’m putting my wings down on this one.

Leaf can hear his brother Vere mutter to himself again. This has become a reoccurring issue the longer we stay up here among the tallest tree in the neighborhood. I’m pretty sure he’s the one who chased away all of the pretty girls who blossomed earlier this season. They couldn’t handle him having a panic attack at all hours about making the journey downward before the snow makes its first landfall.

Funny enough, he didn’t use to be this way. When we were first budding, he looked down at the ground below us and expressed his thoughts of what goes on down there. According to our grandfather Oak, it is essential for all of us to make it down at the end of autumn, but he forgot to mention that we need to be careful on which day we decide to let loose, because there are dangers when you finally make it down, and you are reminded by it almost every other day, thanks to the loud noise that radiates across the block.

“VERE! You’re waking up the rest of the crew! Shut up and let us sleep!” Aubrey yelled across the other side of the tree. Despite the rest of her family caving and disembark on their way a little earlier than planned because Vere had become even more annoying to any one who could hear him.

“You know Auburn, why don’t you go ahead and go down there, maybe you’ll find pieces of your family after the ugly statue ran over them a few weeks ago!” Vere snapped, knowing what he had hit a nerve on his childhood friend, but still went on his ranting anyway.

*groans*

“Nice going you jerk!” someone shouted opposite of them. “What is wrong with him Leaf? You know how sensitive Auburn is about what happened to her family!” Another person said and to make matters worse, twisted around enough to face Leaf and became unattached to his post at the same time. At least there wasn’t any wind around, so at least the landing will smooth for them.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know!” Leaf shouted at his neighbors and friends. “Aubs, you know what he’s saying shouldn’t believed with a grain of seedling.” as Leaf said in his sweetest voice before turning back to his brother with the prospect of just pushing his brother overboard so everyone could go in peace, but he knew he couldn’t do it. As much as he hated apologizing over and over because of his brother’s mouth, he also was a little afraid to make the jump too, he just wasn’t willing to let it show to anyone, including Verdant.

Unfortunately, I had a whole month to come up with this story but never quite made it through this scene in my head, so this is all of it. So, I’m really sorry this is so short, but I like it as a cliffhanger.

If you were a leaf on top of the tallest tree in your park, would you be frightened like Vere or be super annoyed like Leaf and Aubrey? I’d like to see your answers below!

snowflake

Free Write | The Ghosts Of Lord Byron’s Past Regrets

Hello!

So, a couple of weeks ago I was scrolling through Twitter and I don’t really follow a lot of writing accounts, although I have days were I want to go on a follow spree but I have to stop myself in my thoughts because I hardly saw this in the chaos of my timeline! The one account I do follow is called Magic Realism Bot. When I first started reading the various prompts, I realized there are a lot of fantasy and sci-fi but mid-2019, they started asking for other subject suggestions and I think that was my main reason why I haven’t unfollowed in the last few months or so!

After we left for my nephew’s party on the 13th, I fell asleep and when I got up I saw this writing prompt and was immediately inspired to write, but I chose to wait it out a bit to collect my mind because honestly I was fully awake when I saw it. Before I start telling you my story, I want to mention that I haven’t written anything since Christmas so I hope you can forgive me for the many, many mistakes you’ll probably see below. I also hope you enjoy it as well!

And now, here is the prompt:

“You wake up and realize you have turned into Lord Byron.”

Setting is Greece in 1824, Byron is very sick and slowly dying; he’s laying in a makeshift bed in his army’s camp alone. He is hallucinating after the bloodletting operations went unsuccessful for the second time. 

“Where–where am I?”

“I should be with my mates.. on the grassy lands and making plans to attack our enemies.”

The hero, poet, soldier, womanizer is under strict orders to stay in his tent by his doctors. He thought the need to pray at first his illness appeared but he feared that God wouldn’t listen to his selfish cries. As sweat continued to pull down across his face and pain in his stomach became too much to ignore as time went on, he was without a clock or any of his exclusive pleasures to hide away from the shame inside. The longer the blood sat in his body, the more poison would spread and race to his heart. It would be its final resting place to infect and then he would be at peace, or at least he hoped he would.

Before this was to happen, he stirred in his bed covered in the now soaked blankets to keep warm, and closed his eyes reluctantly and fell into a deep sleep. He had hoped it wouldn’t be his last.

Suddenly the faint sounds of children giggling around him. A little girl playing with a long red ribbon, she’s running away from him with a smile across her face. “Wait, come back Augusta! I need you!” he shouted in his empty room. He never opened his eyes, hoping the girl would return if she knew he was asleep, instead the space became quiet again.

Bryon shifted in his bed again, this time turning on his left side, away from the slightly open flap of the tent and away from the curious eyes that would sometimes pear inside to see the non-flamboyant man withering in hell. Unbeknownst himself, he lifted his left arm to make room for the rest of his body and splitting the fresh stitches in the corner of his elbow. He was already experiencing strong pains, one more to add to the endless lists didn’t bother him.

“Oh yes, my Lord.” a seductive voice of an unknown woman appeared in the opposite corner. She was alone with him, enjoying each other’s company very much. A smirk emerged on his face in front of the vivid mirror in front of them. George saw himself in a glance and saw himself kissing a brunette maiden. He liked every hue as long as he was in control, that’s all he asked in their time together. This woman was different though. He knew she was adventurous but nothing could prepare him for the game she wanted to play.

“How about we take this off? Hmm?” He quietly spoke into her ear, and the slight nod reassured he could do anything he wanted with her.

She stood from the chair of the desk and furiously pulled his hands to her back but he continued the kissing on her neck. His fingers worked the way down the tight corset in her middle section of her body. After unlacing the last string away from the rough exterior, he tossed it to the floor. Now she was able to undress by herself now and this meant his hands could explore and wander around her body freely. Once every last garment was off, she turned attention back to him, but something was wrong.

A minute ago, the man was young and incredibly healthy. Now she stood in front of him in disgust. He looked as though they had just finished having sex as he was sweaty but the major difference was he looked miserable. He tried his best to keep standing but a sharp pain his stomach only grew worse and he couldn’t control his rage like she was the cause of it.

She wasn’t though.

The memory of having slept with Mary Shelley stayed playing over and over in his thoughts even after their little affair ended several years before. He remembered every feature, as she was quite the beauty back then as was he at the time too. He knew she was the woman in front of him. He looked down at his weakling body and thought of their ghost stories they read at the Villa Diodati in Switzerland. Could she picture him as her monster? Is this how she created him? Using the body of an worthless man like him right now?

As he tried to approach her one last time, the image of her naked body and the gold rimmed mirror on the wall behind her began fading away. The more steps he made, the quicker the reverie collapsed on itself. Colors of Mary ran through each other and created another landscape. This time the memories were harder to ignore because now he was in a field. He tried to focus on the ground and wondered if he was standing in the middle of a battlefield. The only thing that tore away from this notion was the piercing cry of a child. George squat down but this time not from the lingering pain he suffered.

The child was still screaming, but he had trouble concertating on the source behind it. And then, he yelled out, “Ada!” hoping that if it was in fact Ada in trouble, she would cry out for him again.

“Papa!” Ada returned the signal. The picture of his little girl flourished inside of him. He ran towards the direction she appeared to be in; all the while even more memories and of course overwhelming regrets sat inside his heart. He knew he had to save her. He tried to run faster but he would run out of breath and was forced to stop in his tracks. Ada never stopped shouting for him, nor did he in trying to catch up to her.

After running for a couple minutes, he saw a small child with lightly brown curls and dressed in the simplest dress. The ribbon in his first vision was attached to her hair in a beautiful bow and as he walked towards her, he soon realized this was not what it seemed at all.

He knew she was going to vanish like Mary had in the last flash of torture, this time he wouldn’t let it happen without speaking to her one last time.

“Ada!” Byron debating to walk closer to her, worrying that it would speed up the dreamscape again. “Come here sweetheart. Come over to me please.” He reached his arms out to her but she didn’t budge.

“Why didn’t you love me, Papa?” She spoke to him, never breaking eye contact with him. He was trapped in her gaze and it wasn’t like the moment he had Mary, as that was  pure pleasure to him. This was a burden he longed to forget when he was alone.

“I do love you, my darling daughter.” Byron said to her as he fell to his knees. “You are mine. You always will be…” The pain in his body raptured inside and it was greater than any pain he experienced before. He just couldn’t tell if it was his heart braking or the infection finally hitting its destination, either way he knew his heart was dying.

“I love you Papa!” Ada said with a small wave and then suddenly the look on her face turned to black and Byron snapped out of his dreams. He grunted as he shot up in his bed and tried to turn away to the large bottle of bourbon and spilled out of the bed and landed hard on the dead grass underneath him.

He knew this was the end but he was angry at himself and the memories.

He never got to tell his daughter how much he loved her too. Even though he was obsessed with his booze, war and women. Nothing could take away the love he felt for his sweet daughter. Tears flew down his cheeks along with the sweat that never stopped when he fell down. He was in pain, emotionally, mentally, and physically. He hoped to live to write to Ada about how much she meant to him truly but it wasn’t to be.

George growled into the Earth, and spoke out loud for the last time. “…I love you…”

 What do you think of this story? 

snowflake

Writing Prompt: One Touch

Howdy!

I’m back with another post, hopefully this one will be on the lighter side of things compared to last week’s story! I found the prompt on Pinterest again, but what drew me to it was it reminded me of a song that I really love, and it’s called “Touch” by Natasha Bedingfield. I am obsessed with this song and when I saw this prompt, I was like “yes!” Apparently I have wanted to do this for a while and didn’t even know about it until now.

Since the prompt has two people, I think I’m going to try to write two people’s point of view on this post. I’ve never done this before, so please don’t judge me for my mistakes. Now here is the prompt for today, I hope you all enjoy it!

Coffee and papers flew into a mess as the two strangers collided on their hurried paths, unaware their destinies were now intertwined.


Jack

I cannot believe I am so late. I’m never late getting to work. Jack thought to himself while he stood in line at the coffee spot, just two blocks away from his apartment. He looked ragged, his face was a mess and his suit was wrinkled since he forgot to iron them after removing them from the dryer this morning. He knew his chance of impressing his bosses was lost now, but yet let out a big sigh while seven others stood in front of him waiting to order their coffee and breakfast pastries.

He had only been in the city for about three months, and was surprised by how fast he was able to find a job for himself in such short amount of time. He tried to send his resume everywhere he could think of, but it was a big city and figured it would very difficult to find a job when everyone else was looking for work as much as he was, so when he came home from job hunting to find an opening for a position at a place he applied was the shock of a lifetime. However, he hadn’t been there for a week, and he’s managed to fuck it all up.

After waiting in line for close to seven long minutes, it was finally Jack’s turn to order and as let out another big sign and started talking to the cashier in front of him, the door rang somewhat quietly as a person came into the place, but Jack wouldn’t hear it, he was such in a rush that he managed to block out any outside noises around him. He was just there to get a strong cup of joe and figure out a story to explain why he was late to his bosses. Coffee sat on the counter, steaming out of the lid as Jack got out his money to pay for it. The girl tore off his receipt and attempted to give him back his change, but he quickly turned away from her and headed for the door.

Stacy

Stacy was a free spirit, ray of sunshine kind of girl. She’s always been this way, but lately life hasn’t been treating her very nicely. When she first moved to the city, she thought it would bring her closer to her boyfriend Travis, since he was always working and couldn’t come home to her as much as they both seemed to wanted, but then one day after coming home from doing her errands she caught her boyfriend in bed with another girl. She was shattered. She was in denial with her family and friends when they tried to tell her how much of a player he was, but like most girls, she thought he cared enough about her that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. She risked everything for him and here he was, screwing away her hopes and dreams.

For the past two months she’s been trying to rebuild her life as a single woman. She tried her best to push her feelings back, but if you ever got up to her face-to-face, you’d be able to see the many layers of blush over her cheeks as she desperately tried to mask the steady stream of tears that fell from her eyes every night. She hoped and prayed that her fake smile will divert people’s worrisome thoughts about her love life, but unfortunately, it didn’t.

All wasn’t lost for Stacy though, as she had a great circle of friends to try to lend a hand or a shoulder to cry on; one of those friends recently got her a job at a coffee shop uptown. She knew how much Stacy loved meeting people, she has the perfectly personality to handle various attitudes. Stacy felt grateful for the opportunity, because she definitely needed a job since her ex-boyfriend was the source of her income. Today, she was about to start to learn the ins and outs of what it takes to make coffee and bake breakfast pastries, so she dressed in her favorite outfit: white T-shirt with a matching tulle-like skirt, she also wore a denim jacket on top in case she needed to cover up her upper arms and a pair of white flip-flops. She wasn’t known to wear anything practical, so until she was given a uniform she wasn’t going to change her dressing habits.

She finally made it to the shop, fairly early then she was expected to be there, as she wasn’t supposed to show up until noon to train under the manager, but she wanted to make sure to appear to be a responsible worker. When she entered the front door, it dinged from above and everybody on the other side of the counter looked at her with delight, she gave them a light smile as she let the door close behind her. A part of her felt weird to be standing in the corner of the doorway, but she wasn’t a customer nor a real employer yet so she stood next to the coat hangers, by a table of an elderly couple who smiled and nodded at her. The line to order was dwindling down after the morning rush and she vowed after the male in the half-washed suit left the counter that she’d make her move to the cashier about starting shadowing the manager. Since she knew she had some time to kill, she grabbed herself the local paper and started reading it, but as soon as she began reading the first big story, the man twisted on his toes in a hurry without taking his money, and didn’t see Stacy coming right at him and suddenly she regretted to wear all white on her first day.

What do you think happened to these two characters? All theories are welcomed!

Writing Prompt: We Could Have Been Happy

Howdy!

We’re in February now and like everybody knows, it’s a month dedicated to love, so in my way of showing a bit of love on here is to write some romantic stories. Honestly, I got the idea to do this after I finished with my Christmas prompts. I just enjoyed coming up with those cute and funny little stories that I thought, “why don’t I continue this for the next holiday?” so here we are! The only issue is that I’m not sure if I’m going to skip the last week of the month or not. I am considering it because it would help me get ready for my plans for March.

All of the prompts were found on Pinterest. I’d even change my mind about a couple of them at the last minute because I didn’t think there was enough variety between them. I didn’t want to be too cheesy or sexual, so hopefully these will be a good medium for everybody! They are ALL free write stories–so if you see a mistake, try your best to ignore it! I’d also like to say that I have tried my best to keep them happy, but as you’ll see it hasn’t happened… Anyways, the first prompts goes like this.

At one point of time, we could have been happy.


We moved too fast, at least that’s what she told me as she packed her stuff that she had recently shoved into my itty-bitty closet. I stood at the base of the bed we just made love in the night before. I was so confused. Why would she have sex with me if she knew she was going to break up with me the next day?

We were only dating three months, she fell just as quickly as I did. I mean, you couldn’t blame me for doing it either. She was the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a long time. And the fact that I spend a good chuck of my time in a room full of gorgeous women everyday, because of my job as a casting director, she could knock every single one of them out of the ball park. She was tall, brunette, and had the silkiest skin on the planet. She was a goddess and she knew it too.

I watch her pace back and forth attempting to explain her reasoning for breaking us up. She can’t look up at me, but I want her to so bad. I just want to see it on her face, if she’s really done with me, her eyes will say it before her mouth comes out with it. She walks to the closet and removes her clothes on the hangars, and throws them into her suitcase. I try my best to calm her down to meet her gaze, but she will not let me, she keeps pushing me away. I start to wonder to myself, what have I done? I couldn’t think of anything, but that doesn’t mean anything. I know how women are, they like to gossip to one another, so if there was a rumor going around about me and some girl I was casting in an upcoming film, she’d probably know about it before I do.

At one point of time, we could have been happy. Now instead I am standing in the doorway of my apartment feeling distraught. She’s gone. She was here for an hour never giving me a direct answer for her actions, and never told me goodbye. So, I’m here and I have no idea what to do next.

So, what do you think of this little free write, heartbreaking story?

Blogmas | Mr. G (writing prompt)

wpkeep

Howdy!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Today’s post will be another story that I found online. It really surprised me how little Christmas/winter writing prompts there are anywhere! It took me so long to find ones that I liked to create something for you. The fact that I have one for you for this week kind of freaked me out, but once I read it, I knew it was going to be the one for me. The first thing that popped into my mind though was the Gingerbread man in the movie Shrek so I really hope you like this!

Originally, I was just going to use this prompt to create the story, but as I was dealing with the issues of trying to find a good one, my mom suggested that I talk about the Elf On The Shelf and its doings around the house at night. While I thought it was a good concept, I didn’t want to mess with my other one. After a couple of days, ideas started floating around in my head that combined both of them, so this was the ending result!


Grandmother pulled the last tray of gingerbread men from the oven. Suddenly…

Hilda enjoyed her time with her grandchildren, so she decided to make it easier on herself and finish making the beloved gingerbread men at nine o’clock in the evening. The house was somewhat quiet as the only noise throughout the house was her humming and the occasional dinging of the oven. It was very relaxing to her to bake before everyone came over, but it didn’t last…

As she was pulling out the last tray of men from the oven, she began to hear a light rustling and even some grunting noises coming from the other side of her island. She put down the tray of freshly baked gingerbread softly before quickly locating a cast-iron pan from her shelf and gripped it hard.

“Is anybody there?” She said in her tiny quivering voice. “Don’t come any closer, I’m armed” the pan shook in her hands as shear terror rippled through her whole body. She took a step forward to see if she could catch a glimpse of the stranger down below. As she took the step, the floor creaked under her feet and she froze. By this time, a tip of a tiny red and while cap slowly appeared on the opposite side, climbing its way up unknowingly what he was walking into at this moment.

“Ugh, the things I will do for a little snack.” The little creature poked his long but little arms from below and his shiny head suddenly movable kept looking back at the drop he’d make if he wasn’t careful with his footing. Once he got his upper limbs over, he just crawled across the top to make things easier on himself. After safely making the journey, he sighed and stood up to wipe off the dust of his plain Christmas-y suit. Now he was clean but saw something in the corner of his eye and it made him turn around halfway to face a very terrified Hilda.

Ahhhhhh!

As Hilda screamed, she accidentally dropped the pan on her foot. She was conflicted to deal with the pain of her toes or the mysterious intruder. After several seconds, it dawned on her that this little man looked oddly like her elf on the shelf that she does with her grandchildren. So, she approached it slowly and said,  “Rascal, is that you?”

“Rascal? My name is not that ratchet disgrace. The name’s Mr G and you can tell your little hooligans that the next time you see them too.” He said as folded his long arms together.

Hilda was shocked that he actually talked back to her, in such a rude tone, at that. “That’s what the box named you, Rascal.” Hilda calmly said back as she slowly bent down to pick up the pan on the kitchen floor. “I must be sleep baking again. How are you alive right now?” She gently put the pan on the island closes to her body as possible, you know just in case she needed it.

“Well we’re supposed to keep our identities a secret but then I smelled the cookies from the ridiculous position you had me in on the mantle, and since I was going to be there until dawn, I figured I deserved a treat.” G said as he made his way over to the freshly spiced cookies that were finally cool to the touch. He grabbed the smallest one of the bunch and shoved the whole thing into his mouth, licking his fingers to make that the rest of the crumbs were off of his outfit.

At this time, Hilda was in a daze. She couldn’t believe that this seemingly plastic toy could be eating a real cookie in front of her. “There’s more of you? Will all of my dolls come alive like you too?” As soon as she said that, she began to fear them move around and talk in a rude manner like Mr. G, which would help explain the loud banging and creaking sounds coming from the living room and kitchen late at night.

“Eh, I don’t think so.” As he finished the cookie and pushing the last bit of crumbs off the edge as they landed on the floor. “Unless they are Santa’s helpers, but they look too delicate to be one of us.” G looked at him with love on his face. “I wish they were, they are so good-looking and I haven’t had a decent date in decades!”

She turned her head to face the most expensive dolls she has and back to the creepy little dude on the island. It was just too crazy that this “Rascal” would be alive in the middle of her kitchen, and oozing over her $1,000 dolls on handmade shelves. He shook his head before looking back at the tray again, debating another cookie, before heading back to his hideous spot until Hilda began to speak once again, “You know I can put you in a more flattering place, if you want.”

G looked at her with delight, and walked towards her and as he stood at the ledge, he put his hands up at her like a baby would wanting to be carried around, she hestianted a bit before taking the chance and cradled him inside her arms and put him on the coffee table where she’d eventually place the milk and cookies in a day or two, but for now it’ll be Rascal–I mean, Mr. G’s new placement for the night.

Before she left his view for good, he spoke one more time to her. “Hey, if you could, please do not tell those little idiots about me being alive at night? Although it would be fun to scare them for once in my life.” She looked at him and smiled, signaling that she’d keep quiet for him. Afterwards, he suddenly looked away and became so sincere in his plastered smile on his face. The end.

So what did you think of this little story? I thought it was adorable! Would you like to see more of these types of stories during other holidays? 

snowflake