Writing Prompts #5

Happy Friday everyone!  I’m winding down to the last little bits of my to-do list for the week (Oh air filter, I do so hate cleaning you) and realized I haven’t posted much this week at all.  So here, have some more catch up prompts!  There was one in the middle of these I’ll probably post on Monday, as it requires me to actually dig out the printer/copier/scanner/fax machine out of the bedroom upstairs and actually scan it.  It’s just so hot up there, though the window unit my husband and I finally installed helps quite a bit–but only when I turn it on.  It’s an older model, so it doesn’t have a handy-dandy remote or program function.  It just has a switch with “Off”  “Fan” and “BLITZKRIEG!!!” options.

Prompt #1

We were assigned a fictional character by someone else in my group–I gave my person James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Frasier, and I was given…The Shark From Jaws.  There is a guy in the group who has an obsession with that shark.  On Sunday, we did a prompt where we cast everyone in the group in our favorite movie (I chose Moulin Rouge), and he did Jaws.  The way he did it was quite clever–I just wrote down the names–he wrote a letter from Steven Spielberg to himself, telling him who to cast in what parts…and look, I’ve gone off on a tangent…

Jaws moves through the water, silent and deadly.  He is just off the coast of California, hunting down his favorite prey:  humans.  He pauses, tail moving slowly back and forth to keep the cool pacific water flowing through his gills.  He stays just below the surface, knowing that when his trademark fin crests the water, it will cause a panic on the beach.

He casts his beady, dark eyes about, seeing a fishing boat, two surfers, and a family of swimmers all within striking range.  He can feel the vibrations caused by the humans crackle along his huge, white body like electricity.

Suddenly, a commotion breaks out in front of him to the left.  He skims down towards the sandy ocean bottom thinking that some sharp-eyed lifeguard has somehow spotted his bulk lurking below the surface.  He realizes, though, that the scuffle is actually a rowdy group of frat boys drunkenly splashing and dunking each other.

“Perfect” he thinks to himself, the alcohol marinates human flesh perfectly; making it tender and easy to swallow.  The great white targets the loudest, drunkest of the boys and behinds to glide forward.  “Duh duh…” he hears in the back of his tiny brain, and he lunges forward, latching his sharp teeth into the upper thigh of the drunken boy.  He jerks,a dn the boy yells at his friends to knock it off, but Jaws holds on tightly, jerking again.  The boy looses his footing, and that first, satisfying squirt of blood coats the big shark’s throat, making him go into a frenzy.  The screaming is a soothing symphony in the background as Jaws inexorably shakes his prey, first incapacitating, then killing the drunken boy.

Sated, Jaws lets the body go, where it floats slowly to the surface.  The great white shark slips away, content for now…until the blood lust finds him again.

Prompt #2

Write a journal entry from when you were a teenager.

I hate my parents!   They never leave me alone.  I swear my mom reads my journal–there are things she says that I know I never told her about.  How RUDE!

And mom likes Scott better.  I don’t know why, he’s an obnoxious self-centered brat but she still loves him more.  It’s not fair–they let us do everything at the same time, which means he gets to do it a full year earlier than me.  Don’t even get me started about the whole 10 speed fiasco!  I’m still mad about that one.

If my parents ever get divorced, I’m living with Dad.  He at least drives me to school every morning.

Mom’s always yelling at me to clean my room.  It’s my room, maybe I like it messy!  Yeesh.

I wonder if I’ll ever get a boyfriend.  My best friend has a boyfriend this year, I’m prettier than she is!  But her boyfriend also goes to Tri-way, so I guess that explains it.

My Social Studies teacher this year is Mr. Wright.  He told us we could go home and tell our mothers we met Mr. Right.  He’s so cute!!

Dance class tonight.  It’s jazz, I don’t really like jazz.  Oh well, it makes me a more well-rounded dancer.

I love you journal!

13-year-old Shelley

(It’s true, my 8th grade social studies teacher DID tell us that corny joke.  I then had him later, my senior year, for Government, and he told the same corny joke *again*.  And the bike thing?  I’m 36 years old and I’m still not over that.  I asked for a 10-speed for my 10th and 11th birthdays, and was told each time that I could get one when I turned 12.  Well, I did get my 10 speed the year I turned 12, but my brother *also* got a 10 speed that year, as well.  His birthday is in March; mine is in April–guess who got a 10 speed first?  Yup, my brother, for his 11th birthday.  I threw the biggest tantrum I’ve ever thrown in my entire life that day, and insisted that my parents put his bike away until he turned 12, because it wasn’t fair I had to wait til I was 12 and he didn’t.  Did they?  Heck no!  And the explanation?  It was easier just to buy them both at once.  And no, they wouldn’t give me my bike a month earlier, I had to wait til I turned 12.)

Prompt #3

You are a shoe

Uh oh, there’s the alarm.  She’s getting up.  I better prepare myself.  She’s going to cram her size nine feet into my size 7 body.  Doesn’t she realize she’s doing irreparable damage to her toes, not to mention the strain she’s putting on me?

Here it comes.  uuugh, that hurts.  At least she’ll take me off when she gets to her desk.

Wait, where are we going?  Lady, the car is back there in the garage.  Oh no, no, please not that.  That’s torture!  It’s cruel and unusual punishment!  The last time we took the bus, a bum peed on me!  Lady, please, go back to your–ugh.  You didn’t see that huge steaming pile of doggie doo in the middle of the sidewalk?  Oh, what’s that?  You’re on your phone?  Can you not walk and talk at the same time?

Now the other shoes in the office are glaring at me.  I know, I know, I got rinsed off in the ladies, but I can feel the poo crusting in my seams, and to sensitive shoe nostrils…yeah, it smells like I went wading through cow pies.

Phew, we made it home safely.  The bum must have relieved himself before boarding the bus this time.  Good, she’s leaving me outside the door.   Maybe she’ll give me a break for a while, while I air out…

Published in: on July 13, 2012 at 3:51 pm  Comments (1)  
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  1. […]  Writing Prompts #5 A sample of my writing style, through some of the writing prompts from my writing group.  This […]

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