I haven’t felt much like writing lately, but today I decided to gather my laptop, journal, pen and pencil and head to my local coffee shop, do some people watching and maybe get a little bit of writing in.
I was doing a bit of people watching and searching for story starters because nothing was coming to me. Then I spotted this elderly gentleman and the first line that was generated was similar to the one that starts my story. So, I set my timer for 10 minutes and this is the result. I think has good bones and I’m anxious to see where it goes.
He sat quietly observing them, watching them as they uncovered his hiding place. He sipped his coffee and smiled slyly each time they unearthed a new one. He contemplated if he should tell them to check the yard next door, too but decided against it as there wasn’t much to unearth and there was no need in implicating himself. Nearly half a century had passed and they were still no closer to discovering him. He remembers them all. The first one was especially special after all it was the first. It gave him a sense of accomplishment and he knew that if he could do this he could do anything. One a year he vowed, but sometimes it was two. He had a signature, but they hadn’t figured it out until the 15th one.
He was clever from the start. Leave no evidence. Nothing that could tie it back to him. Dispose of everything. Don’t let anything linger. He did, however, have over souvenirs. He carried them around in that black bag. Never out of his sight. Never far away. Always in arms reach.
Cleo Lamb always greeted you with a smile and a bubbly hello. She always came with a helping hand and words of encouragement. Then one day all of a sudden it changed. There were no smiles, no more bubbly hellos or helping hands or words of encouragement. Nothing. It was if the Cleo Lamb we knew ceased to exist.
Rumors started to swirl about who the real Read More…
Mary woke to a migraine and something gently brushing her leg. When she looked down she saw it was Addy. Mary gently stroked her hair. She touched Jay’s arm and whispered ‘Jay’. He woke with a start.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s eight o’clock. You’re supposed to be at Sammy’s at eight-thirty.”
Addy rustled, but didn’t wake when Jay jumped out of bed. He grabbed his phone, ran to the bathroom and slammed the door.
“It didn’t work Read More…
Jeremy never liked his job, but it was what was expected. He went into the office – his father’s office – day after day and read off test results and delivered bad news to those unsuspecting victims. ‘Hi Mr. or Mrs. so-n-so, I have your results.’ He’d flip through two or three pages of the chart before looking or rather looking through Mr. or Mrs. so-n-so.
Then he would say in his calm, soothing, monotone voice, ‘I’m sorry, but. . .’ He never quite understood why he used ‘but’ instead of ‘however’. However was just as good he thought. Or better yet why not start with the positive diagnosis. Probably because there rarely was a positive.
How do you put a positive on telling someone
I haven’t done a 10-minute writing prompt in a while. I did a bit of editing to make it somewhat readable. Enjoy! 🙂
John sat on the front porch contemplating the meaning of stability. He recently looked up the meaning and realized none of the definitions fit him. His wife said she wanted a more stable life, but he didn’t know how to give her that.
Stability: continuance without change; permanence. That was one definition. John hated doing the same thing over and over. He hated being in one place for too long. He loved Read More…
I had to regroup. After rereading some of the posts, I didn’t like the way my original theme was turning out. Hope you enjoy and as always feel free to comment and leave constructive criticism.
Andrew rocked back and forth on the sofa, wringing his hands and shaking his head. He stopped rocking and wringing and shaking long enough to say, “It’s not over.” Nobody knew what he meant, but mom said if Andrew said it – whatever it was wasn’t over.
Mom knew and could relate to Andrew better than anybody. Dad wanted to have him institutionalized, but mom wouldn’t hear of it.
“They’re going to do it right this time,” Andrew said. Read More…