Red Lettering

Stories will not be written easily. A story without a heart is dead, and the only place it will get a heart is from the author.

Writing Prompt: 08-08-2014

Origin“When the Rain Comes” by Isaiah Stephens. As is normal, I don’t know the artist and haven’t seen any of his other pictures. Keep a ready hand on the “X” on the right-hand corner of your screen.

Feeling inspired? Write a prompt from this and post it in the comments below, or move the prompt to your blog and post a link in the comments! I can’t wait to see what you write.

[I really look forward to being able to read anything you write from this prompt, and I expect to enjoy it very much and for my readers to also enjoy it. That said, please keep everything as clean as it gets because otherwise I will delete the comment or link to your blog.”Only what is good for building up…” If in doubt, ask. My contact information is on the About page.] 

(As a special challenge for this week, give us something we wouldn’t expect from this prompt. Use your imagination exceptionally well. )

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10 thoughts on “Writing Prompt: 08-08-2014

  1. “I’m sorry dearheart,…but I must go.” He peered into his beloved’s eyes.

    Shae’s breath caught in her throat as she watched; a few tears gathered in her eyes despite herself.

    He leaned closer, his face very near now.

    He would kiss her, he would. Shae knew he would.

    But at the last moment, he turned away. He held his umbrella up over his head, every bit the distraught hero, and stepped back out to the rain.

    “No, you idiot!” Shae shouted. “Why didn’t you KISS HER?”

    The girl on the screen watched bravely as she could, and then broke down crying. She crumbled down, kneeling on the doorstep. A few times, shots were shown of her handsome boyfriend, leaving her for his important mission, but mostly the camera stayed on the despair racked girl.
    Shae groaned. “No, no, no. Run after him. Don’t just stand there, GO!”

    “Shae, hush,” her mother whispered, sitting on the couch beside her. “I’m trying to watch.”

    But Shae continued groaning, shaking her head and wishing screenwriters would make the people in their movies half sensible.

    • OK…I really like this!!!! Sometimes, I find myself in Shae’s position…..Great job!

    • This was completely unexpected. You had me snickering throughout it the whole way… I enjoyed it very much. I know I’ve urged the people on the television to do things (though, usually silently), and certainly groaned more often than not about screenwriters… Though, usually I’m more likely to groan about the fact that the guy did kiss the girl, rather than the other way around.

      For a moment at the beginning, it was slightly confusing and I thought it might have benefited from some formatting changes when we moved from on-screen to off, but as I neared the end I decided that the way you did it was best for the story. Well done! 🙂

  2. FaithSong on said:

    Ooh. I like this one. Sorry about the italics being missing. And I wrote it on the spur of a moment, so it might not be any good… Anyway, here is what I wrote:

    Kisha blinked slowly, keeping her face expressionless as she watched the young man make his way toward her. Her hand hovered inches from the door, but she did not move to close it.
    Sighing, she dropped her hand to her side, her face still blank. Always a mask.
    Alessandro stopped a few feet away from her. His face told her more than words could. More than she could bear to think about. Her stomach twisted into a knot. She almost wanted to send him away, wait until one day when she could handle it.
    But she had to know.
    Alessandro shook his head slowly, not meeting her gaze. “They… were gone when we found them.”
    He looked up, his lips pressed into a thin line. Kisha nodded slowly, her heart pounding in her chest, but her face still calm, just as she knew he expected it to be.
    She did not trust her voice. If she spoke, her voice would betray her feelings.
    After a few seconds, he turned away. “I’d… better get back.”
    When she did not answer, he walked down the street, his feet making ripples spread through the puddles he did not bother to walk around.
    Tears welled in Kisha’s eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. /Don’t you cry, Kisha./ She thought, bitterly. /You can’t afford it./
    Despite her intentions, a few tears made their way down her face, faint tracks in the dust covering her cheeks.
    Alessandro stopped and turned back. “Kisha–” He stopped, his face showing the faintest surprise. “Are you… crying?”
    She turned back toward the doorway, closing her eyes. Her quiet voice trembled, as she knew it would. “Yes.”
    She heard his returning footsteps, and spun toward him, flinging a teardrop onto her leather shirt. “Yes, I’m crying. We “savages” can cry, too, you know. We feel pain.”
    Alessandro shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
    Kisha spun around, grabbing the edge of the door. He grabbed her wrist. “Kisha, wait.”
    She stilled, her eyes flashing angrily.
    He took a breath. “Listen, I know what you’re going through. I lost my family to the same thing. But I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. You have friends here. Don’t…” His voice quieted. “Don’t bottle it all in.”
    She took a deep breath, hating the tremble in it. “It’s the only thing I know how to do.”
    He released her wrist, and she dropped her arm to her side.
    His voice was quiet. “Then let us help you learn.”

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