Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #196

BET YOU CAN’T do this writing prompt. Take the 10 random words below and, in the comments, crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story tying all of them together! And remember: after (if) you finish, highlight your words and click the bold button to make them stand out and help you determine if you forgot any words. (If you’ve missed previous writing prompts, we BET YOU CAN’T do those, either.)

  1. Eye
  2. Heat
  3. Rise
  4. Dream
  5. Survive
  6. Fast
  7. Will
  8. Thrill
  9. Stalk
  10. Hunger

NOTE: Don’t copy and paste from MS Word. Use a program like notepad that removes formatting or just type in the comment field itself. Also, finish your submission, THEN bold the words. Thanks. (And don’t forget to tweet this and share it with your friends.)

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Resources you should check out:
Thesis: Best Damn Theme on the Web
Collective Ink Well: Personalize Your Thesis Theme
Third Tribe Marketing: Marketing done the right way
Story Structure Demystified: Best damn writing book out there

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47 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #196”

  1. Frank Ruiz says:

    Today I wanted to combine Shane’s list with Holly’s list that she gave us on 11/23/2011, which I didn’t get a chance to respond to until today (thanks, Holly!):

    This past holiday weekend, the turkey wasn’t the only thing stuffed!  Our eyes were bigger than our stomachs once again (until we stretched our tummies to accommodate!).  It all started with us fasting during the morning (oh, what willpower that took!) to better fill us with hunger for when dinner was ready.  It wasn’t long before we were drawn into the kitchen by the wonderful scents therein, like hyenas stalking their wounded prey after smelling blood in the air.  As we made our way to the freshly set-out goodies, we could still feel the heat when it would rise from each dish.  It was more food than I ever dreamed of, and a feast that could help an entire village survive for a week was decimated in one night!

    We all ate like royalty, and the gratitude we had for being fed so generously was evidenced by our open-mouthed smiles and open belts.  In addition to the traditional Thanksgiving items, we also had the thrill of enjoying international fare as well.  Thursday’s bonus content was Cuban food, from my side of the family, and Friday we got to do Thanksgiving all over again with my wife’s side, and that gave us Vietnamese food along with another helping of the traditional fixings.  After two days of constant eating, our stomachs had stretch-marks that looked like Indian “Henna” tattoos (and hopefully they’ll be just as temporary!).

    Unfortunately, our bellies weren’t the only things that were overworked.  I ate so much that I made myself sick.  A thermometer confirmed it wasn’t a fever, so I knew all I needed to feel better again was some herbal tea and time to digest.  After hibernating all through Saturday, my bulbous stomach had shrunk down a bit, and I was ready to dig into the plastic-and-foil wrapped leftover treats we still had in the refrigerator.  Thanksgiving is wonderful once, but having it twice could only be topped by having leftovers all through the rest of this week!

    • Jeanette R. says:

      @Frank Wow, you had a 20 word challenge!   I’m jealous of your multicultural holiday.  I loved the line about stretch marks like Henna tattoos.  Great visual 🙂

    • Now that was cool! Well done, too. Like that turkey, I hope.
       
      Cheers,
       
      Mitch
       

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Frank: Sounds all too familiar. I ate so much I got gout (of all things for a dude my age).

      • Frank Ruiz says:

        Thanks for the comments, everyone!

        @Jeanette: Yeah, we’re lucky to have so many different types of folks in our family.  A few more in-laws and we can become a mini United Nations!

        @Mitch: No underdone turkeys for us!  They’d have too much fight left in ’em 🙂

        @Shane: Aw, man, sorry to read about your gout.  I hope you get better soon!

  2. Jeanette R. says:

    Her eyes were frozen on the orange bottle with its faded label.  She could barely make out the dosage, but she knew exactly what was inside; a teeny, tiny pill that gave her the will to survive.  The timing had to be perfect.  If she took it too soon then it would wear off and leave her all too aware of her surroundings. If she took it too late, then she would need someone to wake her once they arrived.

    She hated the fact that she couldn’t fly without it.  She had tried it all: hypnotherapists, meditation, breathing exercises.  Nothing worked.  The heat was rising in the cabin so she decided to take off her jacket and lay it on her lap. Grabbing her bottle of water, she popped the pill and felt it flow swiftly down her throat.  In less than 10 minutes, she would be in a dream-like state.

    The few minutes before it kicked in were always the worst.  She would stalk the passengers and plot out who had the motive to disrupt the flight or who could possibly save them if anything did happen. She paid close attention to the emergency instructions scoping out the exit rows. Rational thought moved fast from her mind as fear settled in with its hunger attacking her weak brain cells.

    For most, the thrill of taking off and soaring above the clouds ignited a sense of adventure.  For her, it rooted the tension deep into the pit of her stomach.  She closed her eyes and counted down.  Any minute, she would feel better.

    • Oh, my. This is an original. Masterpiece.
       
      You have heard me say it many times. Here’s one more:
       
      Jeanette, you rock!
       
      I’m that person in the first part of the last paragraph: I love taking airplane trips 🙂
       
      Cheers,
       
      Mitch
       

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Jeanette: You’ve perfectly captured the feelings that millions of folks go through with flight. Next you’ll have to do one on boating as I can’t seem to keep my lunch down any time I hit the water. 😉

      • Frank Ruiz says:

        Jeanette, another incredible piece, and this is my favorite line: “Rational thought moved fast from her mind as fear settled in with its hunger attacking her weak brain cells.”  Awesome!

  3. margaret says:

    On Thanksgiving all day I did fast
    I survived without eating till my hunger had passed.
    I used massive willpower so at dinner could feast
    not on celery stalks, but on breads made with yeast.

    There were so many goodies, a foodie’s true dream
    from potatoes au gratin to apple crisp with whipped cream!
    My eyes were much bigger than all I could eat…
    but when I rise tomorrow, leftovers I’ll heat!

    Great food, friends and family give me a thrill,
    but to juggle those carbs takes planning and skill.

    • Apple crisp. Yum. I’m not familiar with it and I had a vision of apple wedges deep-fried and served with a pint. 🙂 Wrong food, of course.
       
      I tend to not worry about diet from now until the lies I tell on Jan. 1st.
       
      Cheers,
       
      Mitch
       

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Ma: You make me love food even more. Now I want to make some more of my homemade bread. Nothing like organic wheat berries ground into flour in a hand grinder, made into dough that rises for 18 hours and melts in the mouth. mmmmmm.

  4. Bert was not a thrill seeker. He would rather stalk his victims. The hunger would rise like radiant heat, vulcanizing his will and sharpening his eye. The unsuspecting had no chance to survive, as they never had time to prepare a defense.

    Let the rest of the Dream Team show off with fast breaks and slam dunks. Bert led the league in steals.

  5. Shane Arthur says:

    “Hey Billy! What you think of dis? ‘Hungry for da dream gals. Will thrill, or stalk if preferred. Easy wit’ da eyes and fast wit’ da luv-heat. Survivin’ widower, but my bread can still rise.’”

    “Bobby, it’s a good thing we’s minorin’ in copywritin’. His online datin’ ad used to suck, but now your grandpa’s gonna pull in an oyster-load of gals.”
     
    P.S. Guess what song I got all of today’s words from.

  6. Tiffany Hudson says:

    It wasn’t a surprise to Mia that she was yet again on the run for her life. It use to be a thrill to be hurdling down the road at ridiculasly fast speed with her mentor Joe in the seat next to her trying yet again to make sure the young girl stays alive. But it was a challange for Mia to find the will to survive herself. Not from hunger like people she had known before but from the danger of people hunting her. It’s like they continulessly stalk her. It’s their nature. To want to kill the girl who could rise up and look them in the eye before killing them like someone would see on T.V or in a dream. 
    Mia looked out the window of the speeding car and sighed. They were traviling fast away from the cold countires torward the heat. Which Mia had dispised since she was a child.    

  7. Here is my entry for this one:
     

    Survive the Dream

    Fast thrill turning to
    terror
     
     
    An eye blinking too
    slowly
     
     
    Just another prey to
    stalk


     
    Violent mouth giving off
    heat



    Victim of some monstrous
    hunger



    Will to rise from this dream
    fading
     
     
    Is there any point trying to
    survive?

  8. By the way, writers, readers and friends. I am giving away 2 Kindle Fire’s in a contest and what better way to read eBooks and compose poetry/haiku’s on the go?  http://www.dragonblogger.com/kindle-fire-giveaway/ Enter the contest to win.

  9. Avenged in Blood part 58
    What seemed like forever passed. I kept walking even though every cell in my body was ready to quit. It seemed I was walking in a dream and not making any headway.

    Finally, a door appeared around a slight turn up ahead and my heart began to beat faster, anticipating the thrill of being released from this tormenting tunnel where I was stalked by death. The door was at a strange angle, nearly 45 degrees, and I surmised that it was hidden in a hill on the outside. I had no way of knowing how well it was camouflaged. I prayed that it would open silently.

    I reached the door and stopped, listening for people outside. They were there. I somehow knew that they would be there, yet I hoped that they wouldn’t be. There was a small spyhole in the door about halfway up. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, taking a few deep breaths before I put my eye to the small glass tube.

    I could see grass. I could see sunlight. I could see the hand and arm of a large man holding a machine gun. I stepped back breathing deeply again. This was going to be another shootout, another to the death battle between them and my .45’s. The only ones to survive would be those with more will, more hunger to live.

    I said a silent prayer to whatever God would still have me that the survivor would be me. If not, so be it. I looked at the hinges on the door. They opened inward. I could throw open the door and wait for the first barrage of bullets to subside and then unleash my pistols. I started to rev myself up for the fight. I had to get the heat in my gut, had to get the adrenaline to rise up and do its magical work.

    I removed the magazine from one pistol and then the next. Each was half full. I unloaded one and placed the shells in the other magazine before reseating it in the pistol. I checked the bullet in the chamber and saw that it was ready. I then pulled out the last 3 magazines from my pockets and placed 2 in my belt and the other full one in the second pistol. Checking the chamber on that one and seeing it was ready, I flipped off the safety of both guns and slid one into the front of my belt with the magazines.

    I needed one hand to open the door. I reached the rusted knob with my right hand, slowly turning it, waiting for a squeal, or a squeak that didn’t come. The door’s weight released onto my hand but I was ready for it. I readied the pistol in my left hand, dropped the door, and stood back against the wall, drawing my other pistol in my right hand.

    As I predicted, the bullets started flying about then. It sounded like 2 men, 2 different guns. After a moment, one said, “Think we got him?” The other said, “Dunno, never saw him but that was a lot of bullets to have missed.” The truth was not all of the bullets had missed. A groove in my side and a round straight to the quadriceps had me in agony but the survival instinct was stronger, and I stayed silent.

    Weapons reloaded and the first voice said, “Lets go look, Mueller will be here in a minute.” I got ready. The first muzzle passed the corner moving slowly. I waited another heartbeat and pivoted on my good leg already firing. The first guy went down like a rag doll. The second was just coming into the hole and I fired. And fired. And fired until the ammunition was depleted and the slides of the .45’s locked back.

    I dropped the magazines to the floor and quickly inserted the ones from my belt, clicking the slide releases and resetting the guns. It all took fractions of seconds. The two guards lay dead at my feet. I waited 2, now 3 minutes and no one came. Safety’s on, the guns went into my belt and I picked up the dead guards machine gun. I checked the magazine on there and saw full.

    I found 2 more magazines in his pockets. The other guard had 3 more magazines in his pockets and one in his gun. I took them all and stuck my head out of the door. No one was there, but the guard had said Mueller was coming…..would this be my chance to get him as well?

  10. Anne Wayman says:

    days late:
     

    Both my right eye and my left eye are swollen with the heat of the second worst cold in the world. I rise from fevered dreams of survival only to sneeze faster than I thought possible. Oh, I know; I will recover and that will be a thrill I suppose. Meanwhile I stalk tissues and in my hunger try to remember if I’m to feed or starve a cold.

  11. katherine says:

     
    Eying the gigantic table Sable expected a feast. Instead a lone turkey leg crushed her dream and stirred hunger. What was her sister thinking?
     
    “Hey, where’s the rest of it? Will you need help carrying the vittles?” she asked.
     
    Her sister looked confused. “Oh, there’s nothing else. I have a flight to Tahiti so I want people out fast.”
     
    “Huh? Are you kidding?” asked Sable.
     
    “No, I’m serious. Ted’s thrilled by a real vacation. He won’t hush about feeling the heat of the sun on his face.” she said.
     
    “Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve had Thanksgiving at my place. I’m about ready to stalk a bear even if I don’t survive.”
     
    “Oh, please. Like you could rise to the occasion. Didn’t you set a grilled cheese on fire?” she asked.
     
    “Darn. I forgot I told you about that. Well, Happy Thanksgiving.”

    • Shane Arthur says:

      Katherine: Welcome to the CCC. That was a great submission. Great sibling interaction here.

      Everyone welcome Katherine to the fun.

  12. sh13151223 says:

    opened my eyes and wondered
    heat rising and fumes coming
    dream or real, no time to waste
    be fast and survive muttered my mind
    I will, I will, oh no its my sweet n sour soup
    loneliness and lazy limbs
    hunger stalked all my holiday mood
    opened the door and walked out
    yellow and red colors smiling above
    thrilled, my own my sweet papaya
    you are great, you are timely.
     

  13. The heat from the desert was beginning to rise up through Sophie’s body. The archeological dig wasn’t moving as fast as she had hoped. Dealing with a foreign government was like dealing with fine China – it must be handled delicately. Luckily, Sophie’s father, Dr. Jerome Bloomfield, was a beloved archeologist. He wasn’t arrogant or at least didn’t appear to be like others in his field. Dr. Bloomfield loved life and most importantly, the mystery surrounding life. He had a lot of questions that he wanted answers to.

    Sophie found archaeology a thrill ever since her father took her on her first dig to Egypt when she was 10-years-old. People believe that Egypt has been ‘picked’ over but Dr. Jerome Bloomfield knew better. He always told Sophie, “Always look below the surface. Some things and people are not what they appear to be. You never know what you will find.”

    Dr. Sophie Bloomfield was following her dream and honoring her father’s wishes at the same time. He died a year ago; although, Sophie has her suspicions. How could my father have had a heart attack when he received a clean bill of health? Why didn’t he survive? Her father’s colleagues and doctors told her it was all in her head. She didn’t agree with them.

    A dust storm kicked up and Sophie immediately put her head down, trying not to get caught within the eye of it. She wore a hat with mesh covering attached to it which protected her head and face from the desert sun and sandy landscape. The hunger within her was growing deeper. She wanted to discover the hidden treasures below the Great Sphinx once and for all. Sophie would continue to stalk, poke and prod this beloved and imposing monument for her, the people of the world, and most of all, her father. Jerome believed it held mysteries beyond what human beings could imagine. The question, always in the back of his mind, was, “Are people ready for the information?”

  14. Kelly says:

    SUMMER RELEASE
     

    The eye will rise, the hunger, dream,
    The heat will thrill, cool talkers, stream;
    If you survive, and I know you may—
    Hold fast to the stalk of that August day


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