Writing Prompt 44

Mike kicked a pebble on the pier and watched it plop down into the sea. “Okay, we’re here. Now what?”

Alex rolled his eyes and sighed as if he had other, better things to do than explain trivial things to the village fool for the tenth time. “Now we wait.” He spoke slowly and intoned each word to make sure the message got through. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet.

Mike fought the urge to introduce his fist to Alex’s face. Instead, he nodded and chewed on his lower lip. Moments later, when the silence became unbearable, he spoke again. “For how long?” Pompous, know-it-all little prick was going to get the beating of a lifetime, if he gave him another stupid or arrogant answer.

“Until something big happens. Now. Shut. Up.”

Mike flexed his fist and tried to picture his friend’s nose as a swollen, three-feet-wide monstrosity across his face. He caught sight of something strange from the corner of his eye. He turned his head to it, and something cold sped from the base of his skull, down his spine, all the way to his limbs. “Big as in… like that perhaps?” He pointed at the shore.

Alex turned and looked. His face turned ashen, and the bulge on his throat went down once and rose slowly. His mouth hung.

“Sea going away big enough for you? Where’s the sea going, Alex? Huh? You messed up. Again.”

Writing Prompt 43


Jimmy glanced behind him and gnawed on his lip. The shouting was distant, but getting closer. “Are you going to will the wall go away by staring at it or something? It’s a dead-end. We’re trapped. Come on.”

Ramona reached out, grabbed him, and shushed him. She traced the mortar between the bricks with her finger and closed her eyes.

Jimmy tapped her on the shoulder. “Hate to have to disturb you, weird lady, but they’re coming.” He glanced over his shoulder at the mouth of the alley. By the sound of it, a small riot had broken out not far from them and was headed their way.

He put his hand on her shoulder to shake her, but she slapped his hand without sparing him a look. “If you don’t want to end up encased in the wall, or land in an off-world volcano, or at the bottom of a quicksilver ocean, I suggest you stop interrupting me.”

Jimmy moaned and wrung his hands together, his gaze oscillating between Ramona and the other end of the alley. Weird lady will get me killed, he thought. “Come on, come on. They’re getting -”

“There,” she said. She brought out a small metallic bundle of spheres and a tiny crystal hammer, then clinked a few of the spheres with the hammer. The spheres rang, floated to the wall, and the mortar glowed. “Take my hand and don’t let go.” She cupped his jaw and squeezed. “You don’t want to let go, understand?”

He nodded awkwardly, the way she held on to his face. Really weird lady.

She patted his cheek. “Good boy.”

The bricks vanished, and a bright light engulfed them. Something pulled at Jimmy – not only physically, but mentally – a force unlike anything he had ever felt before. At some point, Ramona’s hand burrowed into his, warm, strong, soft, radiating confidence.

“Trust me,” she said over a harrowing whistling sound, and winked at him.

Writing Prompt 40

Minor changes to the blog. There’s a static homepage now, where I show my published work. Yes, I know. My web design skills are appalling. On to the writing prompt then.
Barry rushed to the living room.

Little Cathy removed the hand axe from Mr Wilkes’ chest. She titled her head to the left a little and let the heavy killing thing drag her arm down.

Barry’s face turned ashen and his mouth opened for a scream that never escaped his mouth.

Cathy smiled. “What? Oh, this?” she said. “That’s nothing.” She took a step closer to him, dragging the axe on the floor where it left a trail of blood. “Did I tell you the story of how I finally became an only child?”

Little Cathy’s Story

Inspirational prompt 39

I stepped out of the shop and scanned around me for anyone watching. The barrel of the gun felt warm through the leather holster. Across the street, a little girl with a huge swirling rainbow-coloured lollipop – couldn’t have been older than maybe six or seven, the lollipop almost half the size of her head – broke free from her mother’s grip. She halted, turned, and looked at me.

A voice growled in my ears. “I too create corpses, mortal. You’re next.”

The girl giggled and stuck her tongue out at me.

Inspirational prompt 23

At the end of this post is a poll. I’d like to hear your opinion.

What do you think? A daredevil perhaps? A bet gone awfully wrong? Or perhaps a bet the stuntman is going to win and silence those who thought him/her crazy? Could it be the epitome of a professional juggler’s career where he was always bested by someone else? Could it be an illusion? Something someone else sees, perhaps a person who has always lived life in a very protected environment, snapped, and now sees things that aren’t there, things like that? Or what if this is a different version of Pennywise the Clown?

Now, the poll. What do you prefer the most, when it comes to inspirational prompts like this? A picture or a few lines of prose of one possible story to get you started? Perhaps a combination? I’d really like to know what you like.