Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #362

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. Insane
  2. Derivative
  3. Logical
  4. Excess
  5. Crime
  6. Afraid
  7. Animal
  8. Wandering
  9. Tide
  10. Shadow

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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20 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #362”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    I approached the broken bench, upon which sat the bankrupt judge. His wandering eye did an insane hokey-pokey between his puffy eyelids. This disconcerting tic had earned him a rather rude nickname—undeservedly, given his devotion to his wife—but the image still crossed my mind as I took his measure.

    He looked up at me with his good eye. “The hell you want, Griffin?” He threw the rest of his bread crumbs at the scrawny pigeons. A squirrel scampered over his sandals in pursuit of the morsels.

    “Madoff has nothing on your guy. Royce Fulton has single-handedly redefined greed, excess and materialism. Madoff may have committed the crime of the century, but Fulton has actualized the worst effects of capitalism.”

    The judge grunted. “My guy? Fulton answers to no one.”

    “Don’t play coy, you slick bastard. You engineered the Great Derivative Robbery, allowing Fulton and his cronies to reclassify those tranches as residuals. But you got burned when your shell company got swept into that inferior class.”

    “So, you think you’ve figured it out, hot-shot? What logical reason would I have for shooting myself in the foot? Fulton played me for a fool!” The shadow of a betrayal relived crossed the judge’s face.

    “He told me you would say that. He also gave me proof that you, not he, opened the floodgates with your ruling on underwriting regulations. The bankers jumped through the loophole created by your little temporary restraining order and squeezed 90% of the investors into those junior positions.”

    The judge winced, but kept his mouth shut. I berated him for a full five minutes until he finally held up his hands in surrender.

    “So, Griffin, what now? You going to turn me in?”

    “Hell, no! I want you to help me turn the tables on Fulton. That animal will never see sunlight again, but he thinks he is getting immunity. We need you to convince him to move his assets. Tell him that you are going to lift the restraining order.”

    “What if he asks why?” The judge actually looked afraid.

    “You just tell him the truth. You’re trying to recover your position in the fund by forcing the banks to rescind the unfavorable tranches. He’ll believe you and, because of his greed, he will recognize and appreciate the ploy.”

    The judge finally understood. “Yes, a rising tide raises all ships. Even if they’re leaky garbage scows.”

  2. bbanne says:

    Sorry, everyone. I am down with ‘flu. As soon as my brain works again I will be back. Please excuse me for a day or so.

  3. Bah, I am finally back,sort of. Chandroc is on hiatus because my whole writing is. But I am going to get back on that destrier and start back with the good old CCC. I came up with this really quickly.

    “That’s insane.” she said in such a derivative tone that he was taken aback. Sure it was logical given the tide of emotion that she had emitted at seeing the actual scene of the crime, but theexcess of vehemence made him afraid of her.

    “Well,” She said, “No sense in wandering around in the dark jumping at shadows. We may as well try to get some sleep.” The turnaround in her alarmed him. That she could just flick a switch like that….but she was right. “Sure.” He said, hoping that rustling in the bushes was only an animal.

    • Anklebuster says:

      Justin, welcome back! I hope Chandroc is enjoying some fun in the sun with some girls and some rum! (Or diet Coke).

      Exercising your pen and imagination yielded a nice, tight bit of suspenseful prose. I’m feeling like the next page is coming on this!

      Cheers,

      Mitch

    • I love it when it’s short, sharp and to the point. Very nice piece, thanks for sharing it 🙂

    • bbanne says:

      Welcome back. I’ve missed Chandroc so it’s good to hear he’s still around.

      This is an excellent piece that leaves me wanting to know more- what’s going to happen next. That’s the secret of great writing.

  4. A Crime Is Born

    A shadow flying in the dark
    I spotted through the rainy curtain.
    Is it a crow, is it a lark?
    I know it barked, that is for certain.

    Insane I may be, but no fool,
    I need a logical construction,
    a barking animal – that’s cool,
    but bark plus flying, that’s malfunction.

    The night is full of silent horror,
    It’s a derivative of time –
    My last abduction caused a furor,
    and now they fear my next crime.

    Indeed, I also am afraid
    because there’s no excess of time,
    I need to find a pretty maid
    before, BEFORE the morning tide.

    ‘Now, now, who’s wandering at night?’,
    I asked and grabbed her bosom raising.
    She tried to scream, she tried to fight.
    Now she is in the Drowned God’s keeping.

  5. bbanne says:

    Well done, Simeon. Your first CCC poem. 🙂

  6. John Drew says:

    A Walk in the Park
    By: John Drew

    As she wipes the grease off of her hands onto her dirty apron, she takes a deep breath, pats her pockets, puts on her coat and yells across the diner, “I’m out of here Steve.”, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    “How are you getting home?”, he asks.
    “Walking.”, she says while heading for the door. The bell rings as the door flies open. “Don’t go through the park.”, he says as she jogs off, clutching her bag, pretending he is already out of earshot. “You got to be insane to go through the park at this time of night.”, he mutters to himself as he watches her pull the hood of her coat over her head, as she disappears into the blurs between shadow and moonlight.
    Stopping just under the light of a street lamp at the entrance to the park, she pulls her phone from her purse, unwraps her ear phones, puts them in her ears and starts to pick a soundtrack for her journey home. “Crash!”, she hears from across the park. She rips out her ear phones and hurriedly places her phone back in her bag, still clutched to her side. The high tide of courage overflowing has now receded to a mere trickle, her confidence temporarily shattered along with that glass from across the park.
    Just then, a police car speeds past her with the lights flashing, and she clearly hears, “Crime in progress”. Still afraid, but a bit more assured, she continues on her route. Her hands enter the pockets of her coat for warmth, she takes a deep breath and sighs a nervous, energetic fog as she enters the park.
    Having been through the park before, she headed past the playground and benches, where she sees a homeless man. He is tattered and unconscious off of the excess and generous spirits of others. He snores loudly and she jumps forward and runs past quietly, only looking back when she is far enough away. As she comes up over the top of the hill, she can see the red and blue light up the urban skyline, and the lights sparkle the same red and blue off of her brown eyes. as the breeze gently pushes a strand of hair out of her face she shivers a bit, and tightens her coat with her hands in her pockets, and starts down the hill.
    Walking downhill proves to be a little difficult; she has to stop herself from going too fast, and stumbles a bit. She hears the snap of a twig behind her and bursts into a full sprint. Not knowing if the homeless man had woken up and is after her, or if a wandering predatory creature of another sort had her in their sites. She runs as fast as she can towards the red and blue of the police.
    As she runs closer, she sees a hooded figure coming towards her and she freezes. She doesn’t even breathe as the figure runs past in a hurry, as if she were not there at all. She collects herself, and continues to run towards the police.
    She can now see their flashlights through the bushes and she screams out, “Hey, over here!”, and the police run up, guns drawn, out of breath from the chase. A young man, no older than 25, shouts, “Don’t move!”, and fires a single shot in her chest as she pulls her hands from her pockets.
    The young officer takes his radio from his belt, hand shaking all the while, and calls in, “suspect down, we need a bus to Park and Derivative!” the young officer’s partner walks up to him, pats him on the back and says, “Well done, one less animal on the streets.” The young man nervously looks at his partner and proudly smiles, as a dark, hooded figure laughs, and disappears into the blurs between shadow and moonlight.

  7. bbanne says:

    Great work, John. Your piece is full of action and vitality. Well done.


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