Writer Wednesday

Hello, fellow writers!

Here’s today’s prompt:

prompt for writer wednesday

 

 

I’m still holding on. Nobody thought I would. After all, I was one of the smallest of the bunch. Everyone else in my family tree was robust, strong, and was able to hold on with all their might. That is, until the chill came.

 

Throughout the spring and summer, the sun shone bright every single day. It rained occasionally, too. Ah yes, those were the days. We never wanted for anything. We had everything we needed. Sure, we lost a few of our brothers and sisters here and there. Sometimes the winds came too fast and strong and would whip one of us right off. But that was nothing compared to now.

 

Now, the days were shorter. The skies were gray. The air was cold. And my family was dropping every minute.

 

A part of me was scared. I knew that I would be falling soon. But, I didn’t mind it so much. I knew that I had to let go of my branch so another could come after me. Besides, I had had a good, long life on my branch. I saw the rains in April, the flowers in May, the sunshine of June, the fireworks in July, the school buses making their rounds in September, and little ones trick-or-treating in October. I knew I probably wouldn’t last to see the bright lights of Christmas.

 

My great-great-great-grandpa saw them. He stayed around long enough to tell his son. And his son told his son. And so on.

 

Great-Great-Great-Grandpa was the smallest of his bunch too. Maybe there was a chance for me to see the lights. That’s what kept me going; the thought of seeing the lights. There were only about 50 of us left. It may seem like a lot, but when you consider we started out in the thousands, it really puts everything in perspective.

 

Yes, I was scared of fall, but I didn’t let it take my joy. I knew it was going to come eventually, but for now, I held tight. I took in everything around me. I watched the people work hard to rake their leaves into tidy bunches. I watched the mothers bundle their kids in jackets and scarves. And hoped upon hope that I’d see them trim their trees with the bright lights of Christmas.

Writer Wednesday

Today’s Writer Wednesday is autobiographical (sort of) in nature.

Here’s today’s prompt:

“Write about a pet that used to be in your life.”

When I was little, my best friend Marissa lived across the street. She had a cat lovingly referred to as “Momma Cat”. Momma Cat had a litter of kittens one day, and one was given to my sisters and me. The kitty had a twin brother who my bestie and her brother named Copper. At the time, we were obsessed with the Disney movie The Fox and the Houndso we named our twin Tod.

My sisters and I were so excited to have a pet. The only pet we had up until that point was a dog named Shep (who was promptly given away because we girls were terrified of him). A cute and cuddly kitten seemed more our speed. When Tod was small, we would hold him in our little hands and cuddle him like crazy. Soon, he got bigger which meant he was the perfect size to torture. Not in a sadistic way. More in a “we-don’t-have-a-brother-to-torment-with-girly-stuff-so-the-cat-is-a-good-substitute” sort of way.

Tod, in his natural habitat. (AKA, hiding from us)

Tod, in his natural habitat. (AKA, hiding from us)

We dressed that cat up in our doll clothes, pushed him up the street in our toy strollers, and even placed cat food trails along the monkey bars in the backyard to see how far he could walk without slipping. We snuggled him close, brought him in the house to catch mice, and even tried to teach him to play fetch (a plan that failed miserably).

Tod was never an inside cat–our dad wasn’t the biggest fan–but sometimes I’d sneak outside on Saturday mornings before anyone woke up and bring him into the bedroom my sisters and I shared, plopping him on the bottom bunk with Bridget, giggling quietly. As we grew up, Tod became less and less of a priority. We weren’t neglectful by any means. He was still fed, he always got his neck and back scratched, but he just didn’t stick around as much. He was usually patrolling the neighborhood for some tail (ha; pun intended), looking for a fight, or just being curious.  

One day, we came home and saw Tod was gone. I honestly have no idea what happened to that cat. My middle sister thinks he may have gotten into a fight with another cat and lost or might have known he was sick and went off to die in peace somewhere. I was sad when I realized Tod wasn’t coming back, but I was glad knowing that we had made some great memories with that furry feline. Memories that I still hold dear.

"Look at the camera, Tod, and smile pretty."

“Look at the camera, Tod, and smile pretty.”

Do you have memories of your first pet? What kind of animal was it? What was his/her name?

Writer Wednesday

Happy Hump Day, peeps!

Here’s today’s Writer Wednesday prompt:

prompt

 

It seems like everyone I know has some hidden–or not-so-hidden–talent. Huff the Hubs can play guitar, piano, and trumpet. My dad can build ANYTHING your imagination can come up with. My mother is a crochet ninja; my sister is a master baker; and practically everything my other sister touches turns to gold. So where does that leave me…?

I’ll tell you where: impressions.

No, not painting. Actual impressions. But not of people…of goats.

I honestly have no idea how this impression came about, but ever since I was about 12 years old, I found I was able to do a dead-on impression of a goat. So dead-on, in fact, that my friends would CONSTANTLY ask me to do the impression. In between classes, during assemblies, in the middle of church. You name it, a goat sound was heard.

Even now that I’m almost 30 (gulp) I’ll see friends from middle school and they’ll ask me to “Do the goat!”

I really wish I had a more productive talent/skill. Seriously, how far does a goat impersonator go in life? And how can I utilize my talent for the betterment of mankind? I mean, everyone I mentioned above would be GREAT to have around during the zombie apocalypse. But me? I’d probably be the first one sacrificed to save everyone else.

Oh well. At least the zombies would have something laugh about as they gnawed on my legs.

 

What’s your hidden talent? Is it embarrassing like mine? Or is it more practical?

Writer Wednesday

Hello all!
Last week I didn’t do a Writer Wednesday post. I know; everyone was very sad. Well, dry your eyes, cupcake because I’ve got a whole new story to share with you!

Here’s today’s prompt:

prompt writer

 

 

She’d been in the tower for almost two years. She would look out the window every night and think of her parents, the King and Queen. She could even see the turrets from their castle.

So close yet so far away, she’d think to herself.
She knew she was here for her own protection. Still, it didn’t make it any easier.
She sometimes wished she could get the “Aurora Treatment”; being in a coma would be better than being bored out of your mind day in and day out. But, she found ways to pass the time.
She’d read–what little books she had. She’d dance. But, her favorite pastime was singing. Her friend enjoyed it too.
Oh no, the Princess was not entirely alone. She had a friend. A friend that protected her and cared for her. He was a kind, gentle creature. Though many wouldn’t have seen him that way upon first glance. You see, her friend was a Dragon.
The Dragon would wake up in the morning to the sound of the Princess singing. Then, he’d come to her window, get a soft pat on the head from his royal companion, and then take the princess on a morning flight around the countryside.
Most fairy tales portray dragons as mean, fire-breathing terrors. But not this Dragon. This Dragon had an important purpose. He was here to protect the Princess.
There was a Prince from a far away kingdom who wanted to marry the Princess. However, she was not inclined to marry a man who stood three feet shorter than her, had a horrendous case of halitosis, who wanted nothing more than to rule his kingdom with an iron fist, and who also referred to himself in the third person.
In an effort to keep their daughter from the awful fate of becoming his bride, the King and Queen devised a plan: they would send their daughter to a faraway tower under the Dragon’s protection until the pint-sized Prince had married some other poor soul.
What the King and Queen had not counted on was the Prince’s determination and the fact that every king and queen with a daughter of marrying age within a 50 mile radius had all devised similar plans. Being as it was, the King and Queen had the closest kingdom to the Prince so the Prince was determined to find the elusive Princess. And this is how the Princess came to be in the tower.
Now, one day after a beautiful morning riding atop her Dragon’s neck, the Princess spotted a shining lump in the far distance.
“What’s that?” She whispered in her dragon friends ear.
The Dragon let out a low moan.
“Let’s get closer,” whispered the Princess.
As the Dragon flew closer to the ground, the Princess immediately knew who it was. It was the Prince! Dressed in full armor!
Quickly, the Princess came up with a plan. She had the Dragon drop her back at her tower and then she discussed the plan with her fire-breathing friend.
“We can do this,” the Princess said. She hugged the Dragon around his neck and rushed to her dresser. Quickly, she tossed her belongings in and raced down the stairs. She slipped out the back way and his behind a bush. This is what she saw…
The petite Prince burst through the front gate outside the tower “Oh-ho! Fair Princess, The Prince is here to rescue you! Sorrow upon those who stand in the Prince’s way! Oh-ho! Onward!”
He charged toward the front door if the tower. As soon as his hand reached for the handle, he was scooped up by the Dragon and whisked away to the Princess’s former window.
That’s when the Princess ran. She ran as fast as she could. She didn’t stop running until she reached her parents’ castle. Panting and gasping for air, the Princess ran to the castle gates. She knocked on the door until it opened with a loud creak!

She was greeted with open arms by everyone: the courtiers, her ladies-in-waiting, and most importantly, by her parents, the King and Queen.

Writer Wed–Er, Thursday

Hey peeps!

Sorry for no post yesterday. It was mine and Huff the Hubs third anniversary! We took the day off and spent the whole day together! It was awesome. So I’m making up for no Writer Wednesday by having a Writer Thursday.

 

Here is today’s prompt:

photo (3)

 

Seven days ago, I won the lottery. Now, nobody will talk to me.

 

I thought winning the lottery would give me more friends. Instead, it drove them away. I wasn’t expecting to win when I walked into that Gas ‘N Go. I just needed to fill up my tank and maybe grab a Diet Coke. On a whim, I bought two scratchers. I never bought those kinds of things before. But they were just sitting there on the counter. I figured, why not?

 

I completely forgot about them until I cleaned out my truck two days later. They had fallen out my pocket and got stuck in between my seat and console. I took them inside, searched for a quarter, and scratched the first one.

 

I had to reveal three cherries if I wanted to win. I rubbed the silver coating off the first box: cherry. I chose another box and did the same. Another cherry. I picked a third box and started to get excited. A banana.

 

“Dang it!” I moaned, tossing the worthless paper into the trash. I grabbed the other scratcher. I chose my boxes more carefully this time.

 

The first box was a cherry!
“Yes!” I whispered.

 

The next one? One more cherry.

 

My hands shook as I chose the final box to scratch. I kept second-guessing myself.

 

The upper left?

 

 

Lower right?

 

No.

 

Bottom middle.

 

Yes, that one.

 

I scratched off the silver. I closed my eyes before I could sneak a peek of the shape. With my eyes still shut, I blew the shavings off the card.

 

“One, two, three,” I said aloud and opened my eyes.

 

A third cherry! A third cherry! I couldn’t believe it!

 

I did a happy dance and thought about what I should do next. Naturally, I posted on Facebook that I had won the lottery. People were quick to congratulate me. I told them I would take them all to dinner to celebrate and pay with my winnings.

 

I went to the store to collect my prize and then drove to the restaurant. But no one showed up. I waited for another fifteen minutes. Still, no one was there. Another thirty minutes passed. I saw many people coming in and out of the parking lot, but none of them were my friends.

 

I sighed and walked inside.

 

I told the young woman that was assisting me, “I won the lottery today.”

 

“Wow! Congratulations!” she said. “How much did you win?”

 

“Fifty dollars,” I said proudly. “Can I have a McDouble and a McFlurry, please?”

Writer Wed-Er-Thursday

Hey errbody! Sorry there was no post yesterday. My Maryland family came into town like a thundering horde and I was caught up with smothering them with hugs and kisses. So Writer Wednesday has been moved to today!

 

Here’s today’s prompt:

prompt

When I first told my family about the monster in my room, they didn’t believe me.

 

I shared the room with my two sisters, but I was the only one who saw the monster. He appeared in my window every night, keeping a sinister watch over me. And, by the time I woke up every morning, he was gone. He was tricky like that.

 

I tried to tell my parents that the monster was real. I woke them up repeatedly, shouting “He’s back! He’s back!” But, much like the wizarding community in Harry Potter #5, no one listened. Mom and Dad would walk me back to my room, tuck me in under my Rainbow Brite sheets and tell me that there was no monster.

 

My sisters even took me outside to show that there was no evidence the monster existed. There were no footprints, no clumps of fur caught on the fence; there was no sign of trespassing.

 

Still, the monster came. Every night, I’d see his two giant eyes peer down at me and his twisted offset grin glow bright yellow.

 

It wasn’t until one night that I was especially inconsolable about the monster that I finally converted a member of my family into a believer.

 

One stormy night when the monster made his presence known, I made a run for it. I went as fast as I could to my parents’ room and shook my sleeping father. He snorted awake.

 

“Daddy! Daddy!” I cried. “The monster’s back!”

 

“What?” my dad said sleepily.

 

“The monster is back!” I said, tugging on his arm.

 

He slowly shuffled behind me to my room.

 

“Look!” I said, pointing the window.

 

He rubbed his eyes. “Huh, well what do ya know…”

 

He saw it! My dad saw the monster! He lifted the shade, touched the window and the monster disappeared. (This is also when I first thought my father may possess some sort of magical abilities.) I climbed into bed, finally able to shut my eyes without fear of being eaten alive and fell right to sleep.

 

The monster had been vanquished, once and for all.

 

 

 

 

 

(It was later that I found out the “monster” was actually aluminum foil that my dad had put in the window to block out the sun. The window in our bedroom faced the west, so the sun—and a streetlight—could shine through three holes in the foil. These three holes were placed just so that they looked like a monster’s face.)

Writer Wednesday

Happy Hump Day, AKA, Writer Wednesday!

Here is today’s prompt:

wriuter

 

Right after they posted the results, I tried to not look.

 

Why?

 

Because when I looked, I would either be extremely relieved or extremely disappointed. Right now, I was totally and completely ignorant; I was in emotional purgatory—neither happy nor sad. Neither elated nor distraught. I liked it that way. I was comfortable there. And I certainly didn’t want to mess up a good thing, thank you very much.

 

Soon, however, the group collected shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the bulletin board started to disperse. I saw the frowns on some faces, smiles on others, and high-fives happening around me. The person who tried out just before I did looked up at the list, sighed, and shuffled away. More grins, more head hanging, until finally, I was the last person standing in front of the board.

 

There was nothing left to do but seal my fate. I would either be a part of the team or just another spectator, cheering them on from the stands.

 

What does it matter, anyway? I asked myself. Most of the people on the team are a bunch of meat-head, wide-shouldered jerks that thought they owned the school. Did I really want to be a part of that?

Yes. Yes I did. 

I drew in a deep breath and put my finger on the board, touching every name as I went down, looking for my own. My heart beat faster and faster, I was quickly making it to the end of the list.

 

Ten more names…

 

Five more names…

 

Three more names…

 

One more…

 

I stopped before the last name. This is it. This will determine my social standing for the next year.

 

I read the last name. And then I read it again.

 

I couldn’t help it; the corners of my mouth turned up in a smile.