Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #353

This week’s words have been chosen for us by James Chartrand of Men with Pens.  Put your thinking caps on.

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. Architectural
  2. Diuretic
  3. Anecdotes
  4. Ostracize
  5. Ambiguity
  6. Penguins
  7. Philanthropic
  8. Festering
  9. Insulation
  10. Crotchety

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.)


15 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #353”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    Storm clouds lay heavily on the mountains, a festering cluster of unlanced boils. They rumbled like crotchety octogenarians waiting for their diuretic pills to kick in. I hustled to get my huddle of penguins into the aviary.

    If my friends could see me now, they’d laugh knowingly. What choice did a poor, stuttering introvert have? My boarding-school years were a muddle of musty books, forgotten lessons, merciless beatings. I tried to self-ostracize as insulation, if not surcease, from the academic and adolescent torture. Ironically, these efforts resulted in my receiving even more attention from teachers and tormentors alike.

    One such pest, Mr. Warren, attempted to infuse me with his unbounded enthusiasm for Art Appreciation 101. As I was the only student who seemed to enjoy his highbrow anecdotes, he often invited me to remain after class for a few minutes. His hot breath on my neck made me question his seemingly philanthropic overtures and suggestions to accompany him on museum outings. My coquettish ambiguity frustrated him enough that he gave me a C-minus, even though I knew every architectural term and artistic style from pilaster to prick post.

    As the raindrops began to darken the dirt path, I picked up the last two birds and unceremoniously dumped them into their cage. I slammed the door, imagining Mr. Warren’s head exploding like a dropped watermelon.

    The penguins stank.

  2. bbanne says:

    Mitch, as always that was a delight to read. “…a festering cluster of unlanced boils.” is briliiant. So is your last line. It’s reeks of the useless frustration. You tell a great story, MItch.

  3. bbanne says:

    The architectural style of the building was as out of place in this ordinary neighbourhood as penguins sunbaking on a Balinese beach. The colours were similar, too – black shades, white walls and a front door of sunburnt red.

    The problem was that the space-age design, though beautiful, turned the surrounding cottages into a festering pool of mundanity. Corrugated iron and aluminium cladding does not qualify a style statement.

    The philanthropic committee, behind their thick insulation of social contempt, dismissed anecdotes of history and tales of generational belonging. There was no room for emotion in their plans. Their beautiful building was the diuretic they needed to rid the town of human waste. It didn’t matter to them that their plans were the shattering point of local history. Their form of philanthropy leant towards money, not humanity.

    The committee, ambition alive in their crotchety brains, planned a second building, more futuristic in design. This would certainly ostracize the fence-sitters who were yet to form an opinion – if there was a fence left standing in town. This time there would be no room for ambiguity in their message. Update or leave.

    Self-satisfied and confident in the belief that they were doing good work, the philanthropic committee continued planning the town’s demise.

  4. Excellent posts Mitch and Anne.

    Since it’s James, I’ll go ahead and drop a submission too.

    “Hey Billy! You’s never gonna believe da honeymoon my old lady gal and I had at dis architectural beauty of a motel room we rented and paid for with a roll of quarters.”

    “Bobby, I’s feelin philantropic and diuretic today, so go ahead and tells your anecdotes as I sit on da pot and drop some festering penguins.”

    “Well, I carried my lady gal into da room. I moved da insulation dat had fallen from da ceiling and onto da bed. Then all of a sudden, my lady gal done ostracized me for doing what I done next.”

    “What’d you do, Billy? You’s utilizing ambiguity profusely here.”

    “Well, she was wearing them there crotchety crotch-less britches and when she tooked off her outer britches, I didn’t know her crotch done fell to da floor and I ended up stepping on it. Done ruined da mood and got her stuck to a pile of old chewing gum fused to da floor.”

  5. CarsonB says:

    Look at those chubby thighs. She’s thick.
    Testing the seams on that black skirt. She’s gonna last.

    She’ll be Number Nine.

    I told her that the ambiguity in the second section was gonna leave the bullshit Antarctic penguin project DOA. She whined about my treatment. She said I was trying to ostracize her from the other girls in the grant writing department.

    I pretended to give a fuck.

    Meet me at the coffee stand in the old lobby tomorrow. Get here early. We’ll iron everything out.

    She’ll be Number Nine.

    A contractor’s error and its resulting architectural anomaly created a fantastic workspace in the massive Oldweiser Philanthropic Organization’s basement bowels. Walls four cinder blocks-thick provide the ultimate in sound insulation and there’s so much space. The stairs leading to the playpen are ten feet from the coffee guy.

    The crotchety old man who scrubbed public toilets was Number 1. He’s still my favorite. Seven more since, but the oldster with the festering scabs on his knees… Mmmm it was so fucking good.

    The old guy was something special. He bawled and dripped snot from his bumpy red nose while spitting out a stream of anecdotes about grandchildren, hoping to make it stop. It didn’t work. I just rolled up the ol’ sleeves, inserted the hypodermic and administered the diuretic.

    The old man went faster than the others, but it was still three days. Death by dehydration can take awhile, even when the victim is wrinkled from the beginning.

    She was flustered. Getting called in for a pre-work Wednesday coffee with the Director of the Environmental Advocacy department put her on edge. When I told her to head down the stairs so we could speak candidly, away from the crowd, I noticed a slight hesitation. But she did it.

    She’ll be Number Nine.

  6. bbanne says:

    Hey Carson, that’s creepy. What a great use of the set words. I love the story and want to know what happened to the others. You’ve got a great tale going here.

  7. Cathy Miller says:

    The architectural debate dissatisfied Michael’s need for control. He listened to the panel drone on, their mouths on a diuretic path with no anecdotes.

    How had he gotten here? While others would ostracize him, the ambiguity of being an invited guest did not escape him. He scanned the audience, resembling a sea of penguins in pretentious suits. All here forphilanthropic show.

    His festering resentment seeped through the insulation of civility, clearing the way for a crotchety response.

    He rose to polite applause.

  8. kathleenMK says:

    “I am not crotchety,” the elder exclaimed, “you festering poor excuse of a man. Philanthropic creches of penguins are architecturally more insulation than you are! Why… when I was in Antarctica, and needed a diuretic because my body was unwilling to let go of any of its warmth…”

    Here he goes, lamenting in a pile of ambiguity, or is it just bile, trivial, unclear ambiguity? Nonetheless he is off retelling one of his far-fetched anecdotes. That will keep him busy for a while as his mind loops in ever shrinking concentric circles.

    Desiring to avoid being ostracized in front of others, at the old man’s will Tommy kept his mouth shut, nodded periodically and thought I should get the caregiver of the year award.

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