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I drifted gently out of the air to land next to the wide-eyed child standing next to my tree. “You have awoken me from my tree,” I explained to him, “Now I am obligated to give you a wish.”
The boy’s mouth opened wide in a smile, “Sweeeeet!”
I continued, “You may have anything you desire. Except…” I held up a finger as he began to talk, “…more wishes.”
“Oh.” he deflated and looked down at his feet as he scuffled them in the dirt.
I waited as he thought and stifled a yawn. “Please be quick. I would like to go back to my nap.” I really couldn’t get a decent sleep around these woods, what with everyone waking me up for wishes and all. But without my no wishing for wishes policy, I probably wouldn’t get any rest at all.
Suddenly, the boy’s face lit up. He grinned back up at me.
“I wish…” he said dramatically, “For more fairies!”Sorry. Forgot the prompt.
Here.
Write a story about a person named “Everyone” and their struggles in everyday life. 😛‘I stared with wide eyes at him as he half sat, half leaned on the windowsill, the warm sun dancing in playful beams upon his smiling face and burnishing his hair like spun gold.
“Really?” I whispered, leaning forward and clenching my hands on my small knees. “Really? One wish— all my own?”
He laughed and nodded, reaching up one slender white hand to brush a strand of hair behind his pointed ear. “One wish, little one. All for you.”
I turned my wide eyes blankly upon the wooden wall of our little cottage and tried to think of all the things I could possibly wish for. “But… but there are so many!” I drew my legs up suddenly against my chest and clasped my arms around my knees. “One wish— just one?”
“Just one.” He laughed again, and reached out absently to twine his fingers amongst the green vines that framed the window. “The one thing you cannot wish for is another wish.”
“I— I don’t know how,” I gasped, delighted just the same that such an unexpected piece of fortune should come my way. “Cake,” I exclaimed after a moment, then frowned and shook my head. “No, once you eat cake it’s gone. Uh… um… a mine of gold and diamonds. No, that’s no good either, because I’d have to wish for miners and merchants and donkeys and wagons and chisels and things to actually— oh dear. Only one wish?”
The elf threw back his head and laughed once more, and the sound was like silver bells in the sunlight. “Yes, little one. Only one wish.”
“Can it be anything I want?”
“Yes, little one. Anything you want.”
I screwed my face up thoughtfully and squinted at the ceiling. There were too many things, and it was so difficult to think of just one! “Oh!” I exclaimed after a long time, shaking my head in laughing exasperation. “I wish I had more than one wish!”
Then I realized what I had said. Raising one hand slowly to my mouth, I stared at the elf with wide eyes and tried not to laugh. “Oops.”‘Write about an opossum who’s afraid of the dark.
You and I must have been posting at the same time, @Writefury! Yours so made me laugh— that’s the way! More fairies! 😛
Since there are two writing prompts I decided to combine them. Here goes:
Once there was on opossum and his name was Sparky. Now Sparky was like any other opossum, he had long silvery fur and climbed trees very well. The only trouble was…well…he was afraid of the dark. Now if you’re an opossum, that can pose as a rather big problem.
One day, when Sparky was crying softly to himself, after the other opossums had been teasing him, he heard a whooshing noise. Glancing around he saw a little creature seated on the same branch as he was. He was a tiny little man, no taller than your knee.
“Who are you?” Sparky asked. He gave a little hiccup and wiped his wet fur.
“I am Everyone,” replied Everyone.
Sparky raised an eyebrow. Well, he would have, if opossums had had them. “You can’t be everyone,” he said. “You’re not big enough.”
The little creature shook his head sadly. “I am. Only “everyone” is in here.” He point to his chest. “I feel the pain, anger, happiness, fear and all the other feels that there are to feel in the world. I have felt your fear and I’m here to help.”
Sparky leaned forward. “How can you help me?”
“Tell me why you fear the dark?” commanded Everyone.
“That’s the problem,” cried Sparky. “I don’t know. It just happens all of a sudden. Night comes and all I want to do is curl up in a ball.” He started to wept again and was amazed to see tears sliding down Everyone’s cheeks too.
“Stop,” the little man cried. “Stop! We won’t work anything out if we just sit here and cry.”
They both took a few deep breaths and gazed at each other for a long moment.
“Is there any hope for me?” Sparky asked at last.
“Well…” replied Everyone, slowly. “This might not work, but here.” He reached out and pulled a little torch out of mid air. “Try this. I’ll be watching you.” And with that he vanished.
And ever since, Sparky has not been afraid of the dark. Well, alright, he has, but he just flicks on the little torch and the darkness disappears. 🙂Prompt: Argh! I’m running out of ideas! Hmmmm…. She could only just make out the image in the faded photograph…
I love your story @writefury I can very easily picture the little boy and his smile. 😀
It looks like no one wants to play anymore @writefury. 🙁 🙁 🙁
It was a great game though. 😛I do— it’s just I’ve been a tad busy! 😉 😛
Here goes.‘… so she stuffed it in the trashcan and went to have a bite to eat at Chick-fil-a, because that’s how life works.’
My apologies, I think I’m feeling a little bit cynical today. 😛
Write a short scene that includes this snippet of dialogue:
“You’re crazy.”
“No— just desperate.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell.”Taken from The Unwritten Adventures of X and Y
“You’re crazy.”
“No– just desperate.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell.”
“Can you think of a better way to escape?”
Y eyed his comrade in espionage with disgust. “But– through the torpedo tube? You can’t be serious.”
“We can’t risk capture, and that’s exactly what will happen if we don’t get off this submarine. Look, we have our scuba gear. It’s not like you have to hold your breath or anything.”
Enemy footsteps sounded in the corridor outside the torpedo room, and X pulled his reluctant companion over to the little hatch that opened into an empty torpedo tube. He unscrewed the hatch, pushed Y ahead of him into the tube, and scrambled in after him. Just as he jerked the hatch shut, the door opened.
Y groaned as enemy voices filtered in through the hatch. “Now what? We can’t operate the tube when we’re inside it!”
“Well…” X stammered, “I just figured we would cross that bridge when we came to it. But now that we’ve come to it, I don’t know.”Prompt: Write a scene about a Viking ship in a storm, from the perspective of a rat.
The rain lashed down on my ship. I stood with my paws braced on the deck. Rats scurried around me, fastening things. One of them, the boatswain, slipped on the slippery deck and took a nose dive. He glanced up to find me watching him.
“Capt’n, we need to drop anchor. We are going to die if we continue.”
“Nonsense,” I roared back over the noise of the waves crashing around us. “We are just having a bit of rough weather. It’ll pass soon.”
I turned my head away to signify that the conversation was over. The boatswain muttered under his breath and continued on his way.
‘Rats, these days,’ I thought. ‘They don’t make ’em like they use to.’
A blinding flash of lighting lit up the sky. It was followed by a deafening crack of thunder immediately. I shivered. Maybe I’d go to my cabin for a bit. And with that I scampered below deck.Prompt: Write about a little child’s trip to the zoo to see their favourite animal. (But do it from the animal’s perspective)
“Ah! Mommy, there’s the panda! I love him so much!”
Yet another child’s squeal reached my ears and I glanced up from my bamboo munching to the adoring crowd that seemed to always be crowded to near my enclosure.
I sighed and lumbered about halfway to them before sitting back down to eat the rest of my snack.
“Wow!” observed a nearby zookeeper. “Someone’s really active today.”
I smiled, mentally congratulating myself for setting the standard for panda “activeness” so low. The monkeys must be green with envy.Prompt: Write about a villain who leaves slightly altered nursery rhymes as calling cards/clues.
“Jack and Jill
Ran down the hill
In a flight of terrorThey’d snooped around
And what they found
Was their final error”I read back the sadistic version of a nursery rhyme–my trademark–which I had carved into the wooden wall, nodding my head approvingly. It would do nicely. Rubbing my hands together I turned back to my two gagged and bound captives. It really was a shame to involve children in villaious scheming but criminals had to make a living too.
“Now, I shouldn’t think that you’ll be in here long.” I said to them gesturing to the interior of the shabby little cabin. “As soon as your parents send me the money I asked for then they will come and get you.”
I reached out to pat the children’s heads in a somewhat awkward offer of comfort but before I knew it the little boy’s leg jerked and his foot connected sharply with my shin. “Why you…” I limped toward the door remembering once again exactly why I didn’t like children.
“Don’t forget, no funny business or else that,” I pointed to the writing on the wall. “Becomes a reality.” With that I slammed the door and sighed. It isn’t always easy to be the bad guy.Write a story around this picture: http://a1pictures.blogspot.com/2013/03/old-farm-house-at-sunse… – http://pinterest.com/pin/ASIFh4dQ9OFnMH-0s5AOGK8MjjvBLmUc-qXdqJiSGFKANBh4megcS3U/?s=3&m=richnote
HC
I hope I’m replying to the right person… Here goes.
“As I sat there on that bench, looking at that house, tears came to my eyes. Generations. Centuries. My ancestors. That house had been in the family since World War II. As much as I knew I didn’t have enough money to take care of the house, I wanted desperately to keep it alive. I imagined children running along the hills, returning from a long day of play in the forest. My kids could do that. But sadly, they would grow up in the suburbs, where I and my husband both had jobs.
My mother, minutes before her death, had told me, “Corra, keep that house. Don’t let it fall.” But what could Ben and I do? I had a simple nursing job, and he worked at a library. We struggled. How would we ever keep a house up with whatever jobs were around? And so, despite my mother’s wishes, I was going to sell the house. That was all we could do.”I hope you like that!
Here’s a writing prompt that conitnues the theme of pictures of houses:
https://unsplash.com/photos/xpDHTc-pkog
If you’ve never heard of Unsplash… I pity you. It’s a treasure chest of completely free beautiful photos. You can use them in blog posts or even on a book!Please take me in your reply, whoever does this one, so I see it!
Sure @levipierpont! 🙂
‘He had stood there for uncounted years. Just waiting— just watching. Just hoping they would come. He had never seen their faces, but he would know them regardless. It was who he was— why he was set here. To guard this door, though the blindness of his white marble eyes and the immobility of his carven form would deter none who truly wished to enter. But such meddlers were not his concern. He had witnessed the beginning of it all— the night of the storm, when the man and the woman had stood before the door of this house in the flashing lightning and charged him to guard the secret within from all unsanctioned eyes, should they not come back. The eyes of any but the children of the man and the woman would not find what it was he guarded— it was a secret too subtle and sacred for idle meddlers to perceive. Thus his untiring vigil. The man and the woman had gone— and they had not come back. So he had waited. For how long he had forgotten— but they had charged him to guard it, and they would find him faithful. Now he had only to wait— to wait for the children. And the finding and unveiling of the secret. And then… the end.’
I’m feeling dramatic this evening. 😉
Oops, I forgot to post a prompt. 😛 Write a scene between three characters: Everybody, Somebody, and Nobody.
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