The three writing prompts for the day (December 3rd) are listed below. Choose one of the prompts and post your response in the “leave a comment” section.
Writing prompts are a great way to practice your writing, share your creations, and to see how other writers think. Remember to add emotions, describe the scenes, use your senses (smell, sight, taste, touch, & hearing), be descriptive, and don’t hold back.
1. Create a scene using the dilapidated house photo below.
2. Create a scene using the castle photo below.
3. Create a scene using the mountain scenery photo below.
I chose writing prompt # 1.
I had traveled for what seemed like months. It had been, in fact, 22 days with nothing attached to me but the clothes on my back, shoes on my feet, and an old, raggedy, one-strap bookbag that had seen better days. Ghost town was no place for a girl like me. I was in the middle of a thirsty man’s hell. There were no signs of life – just a dusty windy road contoured by barren land.
The house that I reached, looked as if a strong wind from any direction would have blown it apart. The porch steps were hanging on for dear life, and the entry door – well let’s just say it was almost non-existent. All of the windows on the house looked like they had been blown out. The house offered no hope other than shade from the sun.
As I approached the steps, a small old lady crept out the front doorway. My first reaction was to grab for the gun that I had stored on my hip. My second was to put my hand up and warn the lady to stay back once I remembered that I only had two bullet left, and that they were in the bottom of my bookbag.
The old lady’s shrill voice sent shivers down my spine.
“Come here,” she said reaching towards me as if to grasp for her last ounce of life.
I backed up from the steps and stumbled over a dead tree limb.
“Stay back,” I yelled warning the lady.
I wiped the sweat from my face to see the position that the lady had moved to.
The lady’s glass-like eyes followed me as I eased further and further back from the house.
“You are in grave danger,” she said.
I turned my head towards the dusty road and noticed a speeding pick-up truck about a quarter mile of the ways down. I removed the gun from my hip, and started rummaging through my bookbag. A half a flask of whiskey and a lighter fell out. I searched frantically for the bullets to the pistol. After a few seconds of searching, I found one bullet. I reached around in the bookbag until my fingers poked through a quarter-sized hole in the bottom.
“Shit,” I said aloud.
The old crone picked up her pace as she hurried towards me. I grabbed the gun from the ground, inserted the bullet, and pointed it in her direction.
“Don’t come another step closer,” I screamed.
The threat halted the lady’s footsteps. By the time I had managed to pick my stuff up from the ground, a truck full of hungry demon possessed looking guys skid across the dirt. A few hopped off the back of the truck and grabbed their big guns. The driver flung the door open and howled to the sky.
“What do we have here?” the driver asked.
As the gruesome men approached me, I pointed my gun in their direction warning them to stay back. One of the guys pointed his fully loaded shotgun straight at my head. I took a deep breath, put the pistol to my temple, and woke up.
Thank you for checking out Writing Prompt Wednesdays. Click here to share your entry. If you prefer to share your short story or poem on your own blog, just add the words “Writing Prompt Wednesday” to your post and link back to this post.
Ready, Set, Go!