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My Writing, Writing Industry

30 Writing Prompts (5 of 30)

Got the prompts from this link mentioned in ‘s  vignettes-100 prompts part 1 post today.
Here’s the 30 Prompt Table and the prompts in bold are the ones I did tonight.

 

001.

Evidence

002.

I’m here

003.

Funeral

004.

Puppy love

005.

Gloves

006.

Blackboard

007.

Muse

008.

Magic

009.

Clean

010.

Secret

011.

Superstition

012.

Fantasy

013.

Test

014.

Tease

015.

Storm

016.

Strawberries

017.

Weapon

018.

Beach

019.

Lost

020.

Cry

021.

Aloof

022.

Blood

023.

Tower Block

024.

Taxi

025.

Search

026.

Writer’s Choice

027.

Writer’s Choice

028.

Writer’s Choice

029.

Writer’s Choice

030.

Writer’s Choice

 

003 Funeral

IAN PEARCE- Road to Array

He had never been to a funeral. He expected trite phrases, insincere apologies and gossip about the deceased. Yet all they talked about was the person who was noticeably absent.

“She didn’t even come for his funeral.” That was Mrs. Randall, the owner of the one bakery in Array. She used to give him free cookies, see if he set foot there again.

“Gallivanting around the country. In town once a year. A good wife should be by his side.” Her husband harrumphed. A huge derby fan, the  old man never took off his “Blue Grass Stakes” cap.  “Poor boy, that man was the only family he had.”

Ian stared down at the inscription on the headstone.  “Brian Pearce, wonderful father.”

Old man Randall was plain crazy but he had that part right.

Ian loosened the top button of his shirt, hoping it would ease the tightness in his throat, the anger.

“Mom’s always been as good as gone. You promised to always be there.” He knelt on the grass damp from the summer shower. His voice was a shaky whisper, “You promised.”

004 Puppy Love

ALEX ROCKWOOD- Road to Array

Daniel was going to be waiting for her in the woods and Alex wanted to shock him. Gone was her usual mud covered sneakers and almost equally straw covered hair. Today, she was in her mother’s yellow dress and make-up. Today, Daniel wouldn’t think of her as a silly little girl. She was fourteen, almost as old as his seventeen. Today, they would leave this stupid town. Today, he would lean down and kiss her the way she dreamed. He would say, “Oh Alex.” Alex frowned, her excitement dimming. She really hated her name. Not Alexandra. Not Alexie. Just Alex. How could her first kiss ever be romantic when being called that god-awful name?

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Discussion

2 thoughts on “30 Writing Prompts (5 of 30)

  1. You’ve got great writing. Look forward to seeing more 🙂

    Like

    Posted by katzhang | July 27, 2010, 2:15 PM
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