Welcome to my weekly writing prompt series. The rules of the challenge are simple. I’ve provided two options below, and there’s a handy link-up button at the end of the post, so you can upload your contribution and share it with others. If you prefer to use the pingback method, I’ll check out each link I receive. Here is the hashtag, should you wish to use it – #MelsWritingMenagerie.
But before we get to the prompts, I wanted to draw your attention to the entries from last week. Click on each title to read the full, original post (I’ve only provided a preview). Here they are:
Bracing with a cane
Hope for the recently lame
The pain was not slain
Afraid to go insane
Was fate playing a twisted game?
Prayers all in vain
Maybe the sludge of the past needs to drain?
Life craves no more rain
Crap need not be my fame
Only I’m to blame
“What the hell do you expect me to do with that.”
Rawmall continued his way through the forest walking in an easterly direction, cautiously looking for any telltale signs of the elf killer. Whoever had killed the blue haired elf was brutal. The killer had left the body to rot and decay where the elf had been slain.
Rawmall shook his head in disbelief. The Elves of Timmoral Forest had a code. They always buried their dead, even their enemies. No elf would have killed another in this manner, he thought as he trudged through a dense copse of trees. Decomposed leaves made a carpet beneath his feet. He pushed his way through an almost impenetrable thicket of bushes with leaf tendrils that curled as they pulled at his arms.
He slid a small box across the white table-cloth toward her. The box was a polished rosewood with a butterfly made from mother-of-pearl inlaid on the top. Her smile grew as her fingers traced delicately across the top, feeling the smooth surface.
“For me?” She asked, perking up.
“Yes.” he said, his legs crossed as he sat back in his chair, pulling the cigarette to his lips and looking at her as his head tilted back. “You’ve earned it.” he said as smoke billowed out of his nose as he talked.
“Help me. Help me” A voice cried.
What? Was that Henry? It couldn’t be. We were all cursed to this fiction and Henry… Henry was all alone. God knows where Emma was unless she was that Saviour that my mother imprisoned. There was no Evil Queen in this land only the Queen of Hearts. My mother grew bored as ruler of Wonderland and decided to enslave the Enchanted Forest instead.
I had to save him but it would mean escaping my mother’s grasp. I would pay for it later she would make sure of it.
An ogre. Damn those beasts. It would have been easy to eradicate them but oh the Queen of Hearts wouldn’t deign to make the peasant’s lives easier. Perish the thought. A fireball easily felled the beast.
It was 1954 and I was on my own trying to figure it out. I’d been a housewife and mother for 30 years so my skills were inside the house. After Frank left me, I suddenly had to do something to support myself.
It took me a few weeks to find the courage to look for a job and another few to actually find one. Once I headed out closer to Mansfield, I landed something to get me off my feet. That’s a funny expression since I was always going to be on my feet. I learned that after years of buying groceries, I could now be on the other side of the register.
R. Todd wrote a story for last weeks menagerie:
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. It was suppose to be a fairy tale, a ‘Happily Ever After’. It was suppose to be the two of us living in the suburbs, in a house with a white picket fence that our two point five kids played in. I would cook all day and bake him pies and cakes and cookies. He would work in the city and come home every night. I would meet him at the door, we would kiss. On the weekends he would play catch with our son while I taught our daughter how to take care of her man. We would be the modern day Cleaver’s and life would be perfect.
All entries are shared over at Featured Fiction.
So, on to the next set of prompts. Grab the bade and write a post based on either of the following options:
Option 1: Sentence Starter –
I’ve always known that monsters exist.
This sentence can appear anywhere in the story. The maximum word count is 1,000 words. The genre can be any of your choosing; either factual or fiction based. You may use art to interpret the sentence, or poetry if you wish.
Option 2: Fanfiction –
Write a fight scene between two of your favourite characters from film, television or literature.
Thanks for stopping by.