Writing Exercises

10 Weeks, 10 Prompts, 10 Minutes #10 (Prompt Me Special)

The purpose of these writing exercises is to take a prompt a week for ten weeks and allow myself ten minutes to expand on it. All the prompts are taken from my writing prompt eBook: Prompt Me.

To check out my list of ten prompts, and maybe have a go yourself, follow this link.  Go with the flow, take the prompt literally, or just allow elements to inspire a totally different story. It is up to you. Link back to me, so I can have a read of your creations.

This is the last of these exercises. It has been a great experience, and I may or may not have some ideas for future use.

The Prompt:

What would you do if the news reporter on your television started talking directly to you?

For the second time in as many nights, the TV turns itself on. The blasting voices cause me to jump awake and fall from my bed in a tangle of limbs and blankets.  Tonight, however, Jenny is asleep on the camp bed, and I sprawl on top of her, as she, too, starts awake from the commotion.

“I thought you checked that it wasn’t on a timer,” she moans, burying her head in the pillows.

“I did. There is no reason for it to turn on. It’s faulty- stupid, hunk of shit.”

There’s a bang on the wall from the guy who lives nextdoor. “Okay! Okay!” I shout, crossing the room to the TV.

“Don’t turn me off, Beth,” says the news reporter on the screen. I jump away from the TV, scrambling backward into Jenny who now sits bolt upright in bed.

“What the–”

“You must listen to what I have to say.” The voice is robotic sounding, and not feminine like the woman reading the news. However, her mouth moves with the words.

“Is this some sort of joke?” Jenny asks. “This has to be a joke.”

“This is no joke,” the voice says. “Beth, you must get to the big hill in the next thirty minutes.”

Jenny grips my forearm. “It means Stargazey Hill. How can it know about Stargazey Hill?”

I scoff at her. “This is some sort of a joke. One of the guys perhaps?”

The news reporter stands and walks right up to the camera. “Listen to me! Get to the hill, Beth. You have thirty minutes or you sacrifice your home and your loved ones.”

I hold my hands up in surrender. “This is getting passed funny, now!” I shout to who ever is pulling this stupid stunt. “I’m pulling the plug.”

Again, Jenny grabs my arm. Her face is white and her mouth hangs open. I follow her line of sight and her finger pointing at the wall. The plug lies on the floor, yet the TV is working. The air leaves my lungs as I watch the woman on the screen. “We need you, Beth! Hurry!”

“I…I don’t understand.”

The image of the woman is replaced by the fuzzy footage of my Dad ushering injured and crying people into what looks like a dark cave. Jenny gasps, and I stagger backward, falling heavily on the bed.

“He is alive, Beth,” the voice says. “He needs your help. We all need your help.”

“Where is he?” I say, tears forming in my eyes.

“Your true home. I can take you there. You have twenty six minutes and counting.”

Throwing on my boots, I grab my coat and chuck Jenny’s jacket at her. “I’ll be there! I’ll be there!”

 


Content belongs to KJ.Chapman

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Writing Exercises

10 Weeks, 10 Prompts, 10 Minutes #9 (Prompt Me Special)

The purpose of these writing exercises is to take a prompt a week for ten weeks and allow myself ten minutes to expand on it. All the prompts are taken from my writing prompt eBook: Prompt Me.

To check out my list of ten prompts, and maybe have a go yourself, follow this link.  Go with the flow, take the prompt literally, or just allow elements to inspire a totally different story. It is up to you. Link back to me, so I can have a read of your creations.

The Prompt:

“As soon as I admit that someone is my friend they end up dead. So, for all intents and purposes, I don’t like you.”

“No! You don’t get to push me away.”

“And you don’t get to die because of me.”

She throws me aside, but I grip her forearm, forcing her back to face me. “It won’t be because of you, it’ll be for you… always for you.”

I know that look. It’s the look she had her on her face when she kissed me all those months ago. She can try and push the memory from her mind, but it’s the only real thing I remember of the last year. It’s only there for a second before her eyes shadow over and she coughs away her emotion.

“Okay, I can accept that you don’t like me, but look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t love me,” I say. She looks to her feet. “Tell me, Erin! Tell me and I will walk away. You’ll never have to see me again.” Still she is quiet. Stepping closer to her, I make her meet my eye. “If you say it, you better mean it, because I will walk away if that’s what you want.”

Her breathing is ragged and her chest heaves in air. “Do you love me?” she asks.

“Don’t reflect the question. Why the hell would I have followed you blindly into this madness if I didn’t love you? I’ve been shot, burnt, buried alive, and she asks me if I love her,” I say, a smile pulling at the edge of my mouth.

She scoffs now. “I thought you were just a bit of an idiot.”

“Yeah, that too.”

She steps away, hands me a gun, and marches on. “Well, if you’re coming, you better get your ass moving.”

“Hey! You can’t leave it like that. Tell me you don’t love me, Erin.”

“You said that if I say it, I better mean it.” She glances back over her shoulder and smiles.

It’s not the declaration of love I was hoping for, but it’ll do for now.

 


Content belongs to K.J. Chapman

 

 

 

Writing Exercises

Write Me: Seventy Word Story

This seventy word story came about by accident when I was writing last week’s sixty word story. I was happily typing away, when I realised I had missed the sixty words mark. When I counted the words it tallied to exactly seventy. A sign if ever I saw one, so I scheduled this post.

Without giving too much away, this story is based on one of my characters from my current work in progress…

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If you asked me the worst feeling for a human to experience, I’d say yearning. There’s nothing more consuming, agonising, and downright pointless than yearning. Wanting something you can’t have is as productive as saying something you don’t mean. I can’t have him, but I want him. I can’t kiss him, touch him, make love to him, but I want to. Life is a bitch, it’s just how it is.

Feel free to join in with your own seventy word stories, and let me know what you come up with.


All written works are the property of K.J.Chapman