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Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #370

Posted: January 27, 2015 | Author: | Filed under: Copy Challenges | Tags: |34 Comments

Sorry, I missed one. Work has started off with a bang this year, which I guess is a good thing… But I’m ready to go now.

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. Edgy
  2. Height
  3. Cobbled
  4. Goat
  5. Flower
  6. Somewhere
  7. Disturbing
  8. Darkness
  9. Seldom
  10. Storage

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.)

34 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #370”

  1. Anklebuster says:
    January 27, 2015 at 5:15 am

    Franklin didn’t want to milk the goat. But he also wasn’t keen on stumbling about in the pre-dawn darkness to find the keys to the seldom-used storage shed behind the house where, inexplicably, Dinah had decided to stash formula, diapers and wipes.

    Trixie, darling little flower, was edgy, disturbing his ragged sleep more than usual. He’d barely cobbled together two 45-minute snoozes before she again set up her plaintive whining. Of course, Dinah was unconscious, somewhere safe from anything quieter than a bomb blast.

    Franklin sighed, grabbed his sweater and scampered to the barn. The height of his day beckoned from the little stool just outside of the stall.

    Reply
  2. Cathy Miller says:
    January 28, 2015 at 11:23 am

    Dark eyes tracked her progress. He felt edgy tonight. The screaming voices bounced off the confines of a brain swelling with wild thoughts he could not control. The height of excitement danced in reckless abandon down a cobbled path of madness.

    He had been the goat too many times. Today he would seize back his life. She was a flower in a winter of despair. Somewhere he learned her name. Mariah. Like the wind.

    A disturbing darkness devoured his mind. One he seldom understood. Rage clouded reason and strangled any decency left in the storage of his soul.

    Time was his. The time was now.

    Reply
  3. Meg says:
    January 28, 2015 at 2:50 pm

    Somewhere in the disturbing darkness
    The goats plot revenge. They are tired of
    Rummaging through the broken edged town.
    They break their cobbles and wander for somewhere
    In the distance out of the town of empty houses
    And full storage bins are undisturbed heights with
    Seldom seen flowers and clear air.
    Determined, free, the goats slip away toward the dream
    Of eating petals.

    Reply
  4. Chris Fries says:
    January 29, 2015 at 12:31 pm

    OK — another quick 10×10-ish kind of thing — also using 10 lines of 10 words, but with each word in the first and last spots, used in increasing and decreasing order at the same time. It’s a pretty restrictive format and hard to get the lines to flow together, but see what you think:

    Edgy people can rarely put their fears permanently into storage.

    Height, spider, or night — can their phobias be forgotten? Seldom.

    Cobbled together remedies enable them to get through the darkness:

    Goat milk, served warm, can help things be less disturbing.

    Flower scents at home soothe fears of, “out there, somewhere…”

    Somewhere inside is power to turn fear into a flower.

    Disturbing panic can be devoured, like garbage by a goat.

    Darkness loses its fight against courage, however it is cobbled.

    Seldom is life better than when fear’s reduced in height;

    Storage in the mind gets re-stocked with things less edgy.

    Reply
  5. annew says:
    January 30, 2015 at 11:07 am

    Thanks to Cathy Miller for reminding me about this – and in reverse order just to prove to myself I could:

    The storage space was seldom seen. The darkness there was disturbing. Somewhere, he was sure, the plastic flower and the stuffed goat could be found.

    Success! He cobbled together a display of exactly the right height and was delighted when a critic called it edgy.

    Reply
  6. bbanne says:
    February 1, 2015 at 2:03 am

    It was seldom that she ventured into darkness. It crowded her, suffocating body and brain. Her fingers were edgy as they crawled across the surface of the wall, hunting for the light switch, which seemed to be far away from the safety of the doorway. Cobwebs trailed across her knuckles as she finally found the switch and flicked it on.

    Memories hit her hard in the belly and she slid down the wall until she sat, arms around her knees, hugging them close for comfort. Fighting the instinct to close her eyes, she willed them to look around. It was difficult to block out the disturbing vibrations that rumbled across the flower-sprigged carpet, but she had to. Somewhere in here was the clue she was looking for.

    The goat! Something about the goat. From the height of the big old-fashioned bed, it peered down at her as though it was as unsure of what to do next as she was.

    She let go of her knees and crawled over to the bed.

    The goat was soft and lumpy like a cushion, but as she picked it up, she felt the shock of cold metal on her fingers. Turning it over she saw a long, metal zipper, holding the goat together.
    Storage. Something was inside it. Had she put it there or was it being hidden from her?

    Slowly she peeled back the zip. A musty odour seeped out of some delicate material thing, stuffed inside. A whirring noise started spinning between her ears as she pulled out the material. It was a roughly cobbled together baby’s nightgown.

    She didn’t start to hyperventilate when she recognised the garment. It wasn’t until someone flicked off the light that panic really set in.

    Reply

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