Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #297

This is a writing prompt. Bet you can’t do it! Take the 10 random words below and crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story! And remember: after (if) you finish entering your submission into the comment field, 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.) NOTE: Our bolding plugin is gone, so you’ll have to put <b> and </b> around each of your words if you want them to stand out, but NOT REQUIRED THOUGH.

  1. Protection
  2. Vast
  3. Shovel
  4. Clean
  5. Pressing
  6. Puddle
  7. Mess
  8. Flawless
  9. Wonder
  10. Early

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.)


49 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #297”

  1. […] Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #297 […]

  2. zennjennc says:

    Marie entered the palace with an offering for continued protection from the Kings, an offering of the finest whiskey from the apothecary shoppe. The vast entry hall was adorned with early art and badges of battles victories from floor to ceiling. Marie gazed in wonder at the flawless specimen of man positioned next to a tapestry of the Elvin Wars. Marie wondered which of the kings had posed for the sculpture. Surely these powerful men, commanding a powerful army, must also be handsome Marie thought as she continued towards the throne room.

    “Who goes there?” Demanded the king on the left, a large man clad in all red shoveling cakes into his mouth. He was definitely not the sculptor’s model.

    “It is I, Marie, I come with a preemptive offering from the Apothecary asking for your reinvestment in the shoppe.” Marie managed to squeak out.

    She must have said something wrong, because the kings looked from one another and began to whisper in bewildered tones. As the hushed conversation continued ever longer, Marie got up the nerve to quietly ask the Kings, “Excuse me?”

    The king on the right, a tall thin man, clad in all blue with a mess of a mullet, answered, “We do not understand how, but we demand that you relinquish this disguise and use no further magic in our presence witch!”

    “I assure you gentlemen your claim is unsubstantiated. I am using no magic to disguise myself, I am but a humble apprentice whom the apothecary shoppe keeper sent with this offering for you,” Marie answered his claim quietly but with confidence. She had nothing to hide, but was now wondering if the old witch was trying to double cross her. The kings’ response was to what she expected. “Why did they think she was disguised. Who did they think she was.”

    The Red King pressing on, “If that be the case, then you’ll be the first to taste the offering,” instructed from the left throne.

    “Ok,”Marie agreed nervously as she opened the bottle of whiskey and took a swig.

    As she fell, the King, clad in White, sitting in in the middle thrown who had remained silent, rushed to catch her. Marie’s last sight was of the tall, broad shouldered, clean shaven King who had most definitely been the sculptor’s muse. However, Marie the sculpture was unable to capture the song the King’s blue eyes sang. Marie knew it was love at first sight, or maybe last sight.

    The White King inspected the puddled whiskey next to Marie, “Poisoned,” he confirmed. He knew the other Kings would want to get rid of her, but something deep inside his soul, told him the beauty in his arms was not to the mastermind behind this. Perhaps he could convince the others and save her life as well.

    “She said she was an apprentice, perhaps we can learn from her who after us.” The White King said to his compatriots.

    “You really think she will side with us,” The Blue King relied.

    “I will make her see that there is no other option,” the White King resolved.

    “The see to it,I have other thing to attend to,” the Red King ordered as he waddled off to the kitchen leaving the White King to tend to Marie.

  3. […] is my submission for Creative Copy Challenge #297. Click on over and take the challenge yourself, or just read the comments to see what others have […]

  4. Where do we find the protection against the vast onslaught of time gone by? Do we shovel the past into memories wiped clean of forgotten pain, folding our thoughts into less pressing reflection?

    Is agony but a puddle of emotions gone wild in a twisted mess of insanity? In flawless wonder, we let go of early grief to open ourselves to new beginnings.

  5. Arbitrator Jones’ Diary
    The checkmate was flawless. The bloody aftermath was more of a mess. Raven Spassky’s body lay in a puddle of its own fluids, most of which had leaked from multiple holes in her flimsy aluminum armor. Whoever had said plasma was a source of clean energy had never fired a shot in anger. I’m glad I don’t have to shovel this crap.

    When I arrived on the scene, Doveanna Lasker was still pressing the trigger, even though the argon gas cartridge had been expended in the first ten seconds. A quick check for sparkling eyeballs confirmed that Lasker was still under the influence of rogue nanobots – neither player had sought appropriate protection. Ironically, Raven Spassky was known for her slash and burn tactics, while Lasker had a vast opening repertoire of invasive siege warfare.

    I will rule that the Galactic Chess Championship be awarded posthumously to Spassky. After all, it’s not her fault that Lasker’s king was not a regulation Staunton piece. That frosted titanium is nice and hefty. It is all the rage in these new-fangled sets and contestants are always sneaking them into tournament play. Still, I wonder why no one else complained in the early rounds. Oh, duh! Lasker was undefeated until the end.

  6. Jen says:

    Pressing my forehead against the porcelain I had a brief moment of appreciation both for my decorating skills—even the commode was something to behold—and Marcella’s skill with the cleaners, making them do it until she knew I’d approve. Then, I slid one flawless finger past my rotting teeth, carefully given the protection of sealants and crowns. A lifetime makes it easy to suspend the gag, to let the bile rise, and the tiny bits of chewed food to puddle into the blue water.
    I learned in college how much I could shovel into my face without causing too much mess or trouble with my sisters. The campus was vast enough, and the other girls had their own early experiences with failure to conceal. It’s a wonder we survived, each of us scurrying down the halls like villains, carrying our secrets like overstuffed sacks, but no one noticing a thing. No witnesses to the daylight crimes we inflicted on our own bodies.

  7. Markus says:

    “Water… water…”, fleeting thoughts spooked through Jake’s mind. ‘Water…”. Slowly he opened his eyelids, but he had to close them immediately when the piercing sunlight greeted his eyes. He started grasping around him. Dust and some dead grass was all he felt, next to a pressing headache. Steadily, he got up, pushing himself away from the dry earth. With his head facing the ground, he tried to open his eyes again. This time he achieved greater success. For a moment, Jake tried to find his bearings, before he lifted up his head. More dust, more dead grass. The only thing in front of him was a vast desert, extending for miles in every direction.

    For how long has he been lying here? From the feel of his chin, it seems like not too long. His face was almost clean-shaven. He remembered leaving his hotel at six thirty, and the low position of the sun indicated that it is still early. With no other options, Jake decided to walk. But is he going in the right direction? The last thing he remembered is the taxi driver screaming: “You shouldn’t have come here”, followed by a loud bang and a blinding light. What did the driver say to him? His headache prevented him from remembering.

    Meanwhile, Jake realized the terrain had been sloping in front of him. He seemed to have reached the top of a small, sandy hill. Behind it, something was sticking out of the ground. Approaching the object, Jake found out it was a shovel. From a distance he couldn’t see it good enough, but now that he is standing right next to it, it became clear that it was his own shovel. The flawless engravement in the handle read ’12-04-14 24th str.’ From the moment he got the object handed over when he arrived in this barren province, the words had been carved in there. The slightly slanted angle convinced him that is was the exact same shovel he lost, just a few days ago. What was it doing here in the desert?

    Just when he realized his tongue was getting dry, he noticed a small pond just a few meters ahead. While normally Jake would’ve described it more like a puddle, his rising thirst made him prone to hyperbole. After drinking a little, he got his senses together. In just a few hours, the sun would be at a much higher position. This would cause a unbearable heat that he wouldn’t be able to take for long without protection. With some quick, angry movements he was able to tear of the arms of his shirt, after which he wrapped them around his head.

    How did he get into this mess? And more importantly: how was he going to get out of it? That was the last thing he would wonder that day. When he tried to pick up the dented spade, he started getting dizzy quickly. His vision started to get blurry and his hands started shaking violently. Clutching to the handle of the shovel, Jake fell to his knees. Atop of the hill he just crossed, a human figure arose. It slowly approached him, seemingly supported by a cane. When the man stood just a few meters away, he raised his hands in the air, after which the cane fell into the sand. Jake’s headache reached a new height en the world started to turn around him. With a sigh of relief he let go of the shovel and landed on his back in the water.

    • @Markus – what a picture you paint-I think I’m going to go get some water 😉

    • Markus, this was a total fun read. I usually click from email to the site, so that I can reply to everything. Your story was so captivating, I never left my in-box!!!

      Is this part of a larger story? [Insert Shaneism]



      • Markus says:

        Thanks Mitchell! That is a huge compliment 🙂
        It’s not really part of a larger story, at least not yet, maybe I’ll continue with it.
        Since English is not my mother tongue I still have some difficulty writing in said language, so I ‘m glad it turned out allright!

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Markus: That was a wonderful submission. I can’t believe English isn’t your first language. Well done on that front too.

  8. Liss Thomas says:

    Continuation… 🙂

    A dark flash of black fur collided with the wolf hovering over Jill. Saal. Tom watched Saal’s flawless attack with vast relief. They landed several feet from her and continued to claw and bite each other in a vicious struggle.

    Tom saw his opportunity and rushed to Jill’s side. He had no time to coddle her but kneeling over her, he pulled a wicked three pronged blade from its sheath, poised to strike any who dared come close. Saal clamped his teeth into the wolf’s neck and threw him like a he was a pup. The wolf righted himself and fled into the woods without hesitation. Saal trotted over to Tom and cleaned his muzzle of dirt and blood. The humans finally broke from their stunned immobility.

    Two officers rushed after the fleeing wolf, their guns drawn. Paramedics rushed to Jill and helped Tom carry her to a waiting ambulance. Saal stayed close and growled at an officer who’d attempted to catch him with a rope. Tom sat in the back of the ambulance as the medics assessed the damage. No concussion, to Tom’s relief as they cleaned and examined her arm next. The officer who’d hauled her from the car stepped into the ambulance and after speaking in hushed tones to one of the medics, motioned Tom out.

    “Sir, you left your child in a locked car for over two hours. We take child protection very seriously here,” he began.

    “My daughter is fifteen years old, officer. She had the capacity to unlock the doors if she needed to. She had plenty of money if she wanted something to eat at the restaurant. As it stands, we’d just had a picnic in the woods when the wolf attacked. My dog chased him off and I put Jill in the car before I ran after our dog. Had you left her in the car, she wouldn’t have been in this mess,” Tom argued as he gave his rehearsed explanation to the officer.


    The paramedic watched as Tom argued with the officer about the matter. Swiftly he pulled two vials from his pocket. He filled one with blood and saliva from Jill’s wound. He quickly drew blood from her other arm, filling the other vial, before he pocketed both.


    Tom finished his argument, turned on his heels and went back to Jill’s side. The paramedics suggested taking Jill to the hospital to test her for rabies but Tom refused. After pressing him more he informed them he would have his personal physician meet them at their destination, which was only a few hours away. He scooped up his daughter and exited the ambulance in a rush. He opened the back door to his car and Saal hopped in. He secured Jill in the front passenger seat, brushed a kiss against her forehead and closed the door. She hadn’t awaken and he began to question the paramedic’s diagnosis.

    “I’ll have the healer meet us at my place. She’ll be fine, Tom,” Saal said after they’d left the restaurant far behind.

    “I’ll feel better when she’s awake,” Tom said as lay his hand over hers.


    Two people lingered in the parking lot as the other emergency vehicles pulled away. The police officer walked to his car and took a shovel from the trunk. He sifted through a puddle of mud looking for more DNA and blood traces. Finding nothing he wiped it off in the grass and put it back.

    “What are you looking for?” The remaining paramedic asked. He showed the two vials of blood to the officer.

    “It’s too early to speculate but something’s not right. I’ve been following this guy for awhile. He said his daughter was fifteen years old. I checked my files and found records of his marriage, the birth of his daughter but nothing else. Sixteen years ago, he didn’t exist.”

    “Maybe he changed his name or is from another country, Billy. You can’t assume anything from that,” he argued.

    “I checked. He didn’t. I wonder if Doctor Pendergast’s theory is correct.”

    “You can’t seriously think he’s not human. Doctor Pendergast’s theory has no scientific backing.”

    “We’ll know when we check the girl’s blood. I don’t want anyone to know of this. Send me the results as soon as you can. I’ll follow them up the mountain. My tracker indicates they’re going to Vertical Peak.”

    “On the odd chance Dr. Pendergast is right, what then?”

    “You let me worry about that,” Billy said.

  9. Shane Arthur says:

    It needed protection from the vast elements abounding. Move the shovel, clean the bugs pressing on the remaining fabric to get out. Drain those puddles. What a mess. The design wasn’t flawless. It was wonderful though, early on at least — before the storms damaged this lovely green house.

  10. Catching up on some past poems,

    The Cleaner

    He wasn’t flawless

    now stuck here early

    seeking protection from his mess

    the pressing puddle growing vast

    shovel digging ever deeper

    a quick wonder crosses

    can and if these stains

    will ever become clean

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