Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #371
Posted: February 3, 2015 Filed under: Copy Challenges | Tags: writing prompts 59 CommentsThis 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.
- Subtle
- Essence
- Subterfuge
- Froth
- Rolling
- Wander
- Marvellous
- Streamline
- Operation
- Success
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.)
For Pyotr, madness was measured, not in froth about formless lips, but in the rapid rolling of rheumy eyes. Yet, even in this marvellous subterfuge, he was able to streamline the transfer of misinformation regarding Operation Herrenvolk.
“I wrote ten little stories,” Pyotr muttered to the person who was pretending to be a reporter. Pyotr went along with the ruse. His final mission was that important.
“Yes, sir. Ten stories,” the interrogator stole a peek at his watch.
Pyotr shrugged. “It was an obscure site where members attempted to destroy blocks with random hammers. Despite the success of many of the members, it was, after all, priests at a convention.”
“Okay,” the interrogator shrugged, not knowing how to respond to that.
“Oh, should I have said, ‘preaching to the choir’? Do let me know if I’m being too subtle.”
“You’re fine, sir.”
Pyotr cackled, “I’m coarse. But I’ve forgotten how to speak the Mother tongue. They used that as an excuse to keep me from going on the Mothership. As if I wanted to freeze in my sleep while two million kilograms of metal, fuel and flesh wander through the galaxy!”
“Ship, sir?” The interrogator edged forward, watch forgotten.
“Not ship, ships! I used the stories to encode the names of each one. Nine decoys and the Mothership. You must tell what’s left of this world that we did not end.”
“Of course, sir. I will do that.” The interrogator abruptly stood. Pyotr locked eyes with the imposter, before closing them in resignation. He knew they would end him, find and decipher his rantings and discover the Mothership.
The sharp crack of the pistol crystallized Pyotr’s thoughts:
They have only the essence of the exodus. Please, God, may they never learn that none of those ships is a decoy—ten mothers with the hope of humanity in their titanium wombs…“
Excellent… leaves me wanting more!
Thanks, Anne. I will comply. LOL
Cheers,
Mitch
Whoa, what an opening! And capped off with this awesome closing ~ ten mothers with the hope of humanity in their titanium wombs. Awesome sauce! 🙂
Thanks, Cathy. A few more of these and I will have enough fuel for next week’s chapter. 🙂
Cheers,
Mitch
Mitch ~~ 🙂
Mitch ~~ I love measured, not in froth about formless lips…
and
decoy—ten mothers with the hope of humanity in their titanium wombs…
So descriptive and I love Pyotr’s ramblings that include “… priests at a convention… and his subsequent explanation …‘preaching to the choir’….
You drew me in, again, and kept me reading. And like Miss AnneW… I am looking forward to more and more.
Thanks for the break in my day!
Kathleen
Thanks, Kathleen. You picked out my favorite lines, too!
I do believe this is the beginning of … something. 😉
Cheers,
Mitch
Mitch hits it out of the park once again! You are still the master of “what genre will mitch come up with this time…it could be anything”
Nice work, I thought I was starting a spy story and ended up in space
Thanks, man! I’ll be needing tons of encouragement as I head off into the dark void to investigate.
Cheers,
Mitch
Very cool, Mitch! I’m getting an awesome Battlestar Galactica vibe here. I hoipe the exodus is successful!
Thanks, Chris. I don’t know about the other nine ships, but the one I’m on is hanging in there! 🙂
Cheers,
Mitch
I see nothing has changed in my long absence. You are still KILLING IT with these stories. I can only hope that you find time to follow in Sean Platt’s footsteps and write as many books as possible.
All you other CCC long-timers are also killing it. So cool to see you all still participating.
Shane
Thank you, Shane. We miss you! And I hope I find some free time and a solitary cottage in which to write. LOL
Cheers,
Mitch
I get paid to dissect words every day, so I know good ones when I see them. And your words have magic for DNA. Please share this gift with others through finished books! That goes for the rest of you CCC folks too.
Yes, sir! 🙂
So good to see you here, Shane, 🙂
@Cathy, as you would know, YOU are on my plead list too.
I love the froth on a marvelously prepared cappuccino. The subtle mixture of the essence of fine coffee and steamed organic milk can be a real success. I love the subterfuge of art drawn up through the foam in shapes of leaves, names, faces… limited only by the wandering mind of the barista. It’s a shame to see the operation streamlined into impersonal efficiency, rolling out almost tasteless brew with no heart.
Anne, someone should pay you a screen-writing fee and use this in a commercial! (Seriously, this is awesome!!!)
Cheers,
Mitch
Mitch, we may be a pair to draw to or two, or too….
Straight up, Anne. We’d get cool contracts and be flush.
Cheers,
Mitch
lol… and know how to fold… tshirts at least
🙂
Anne ~~ I will have to say ditto to Mitch’s evaluation. I love it. I was taken away… almost like “Calgon” but this sounds much better today.
Bravo Anne, Love seeing ditties from you,
Kathleen
Nothing like a little praise to go with a good cup of coffee – thanks.
Oh, man, that has me wanting a latte – the one with heart. 😉 Great stuff, Anne.
Of course, I mix mine backwards, so get to only admire the art of others.
Now I have to go find a cappuccino….this is better than most of those superbowl commercials, I agree with MItch.
Wow — excellent, Anne. I don’t even like cappuccino but now I want one. 🙂
I hate it when I am gone so long… but this will explain a lot — Kathleen
She exuded a less than a subtle essences of elegance with her perfectly painted long manicured fingernails – she’s had them painted red most often for decades, her professional colored and styled hair – that classically mimicked her younger years and then there was her never inexpensive clothing accented by the 1-carate diamond stud earrings she sported. I don’t think she has taken them off since her father said, ‘It’s not much of an insurance policy so purchase something to remember me by after I am gone’ and that was 25 years ago. Add to that the subterfuge of burning strength, she really wasn’t as frail as she sometimes looked – this is how I might describe my painfully shy mother when I deliver her eulogy on the 20th of Feb.
But I might not include that she often seemed to nearly froth at the mouth which always accompanied by the rolling of her eyes when any of us girls would show up wearing perfume. Her Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma first taking root in her sinuses and stomach assured me – most often, to hear, “When are you going to stop wearing that perfume?”
But, I have to admit, I used to wander around wearing the same “Tabu” I have worn since my early 20s, because, in part, it was one of the first things she could actually smell again after the docs helped her to be victorious in battle number one.
I remember how marvelous it was to make her temporarily sick to her stomach with the amount of garlic she could smell me cooking with. It wasn’t that I was adding spices to torment her … I was cooking the same way as I did before she took ill. But you see, it had been so long since she had been able to smell anything let alone her all-time favorite … Garlic! It was just great that she could smell things again.
It was difficult on dad, mostly, as the menu had to be streamlined and much of all seasonings had to be removed from anything we cooked for her. Oh the changes cancer did to this lady over the last 15 years. And the family. Sigh.
She lucked out and was only subjected to a minimally invasive operation on her eye when, for her third battle, the cancer came back in her tear duct.
Success would not be her’s this time as she bravely lost her battle last month. With two daughters at bedside, the other only feet away, dad – her husband of 56 years – sleeping in the recliner that last week so he too could be close to her in the hospital bed Hospice had brought in. The dogs, two of her’s and my one, sitting either beside the hospital bed or on my feet in those last hours trying to bring their comfort into the mix.
I am beginning to miss my mum.
Patrice “Pat” (Wright) Kline Nov. 20, 1937 – Jan. 22, 2015
Kathleen, so sorry for your loss. You have shared some poignant memories here and they are appreciated. It helps us to remember the gift of humanity is fragile, yet powerful.
Mitch
Mitch ~ Thanks. But mum is out of pain now. And we are, she is blessed that all things changed so quickly and went down hill fast. Thus allowing her not to suffer more than necessary and giving my dad a gift as well.
Lives are precious… yes they are my friend.
Kathleen
I am so sorry, Kathleen. Such a beautiful tribute and I know you were happy to be there for your mum. I know I was when I lost my dad almost eight years ago. Virtual hugs to you and your family, Kathleen, and the angel who is watching over you.
Cathy ~~
Thank you. You know I love the hugs!
And yes. It is good to be able to be there in the end.
One of my daughters has already seen my mum standing next to my son, my son’s arm around his grandma’s shoulders and them both smilin’. A blessing for both my son, my mum and my daughter for the visit she received.
Kathleen
Kathleen! Great tribute. Thanks for sharing it.
Thank you. I read it to my dad last night… he wants a copy of it. :{
Kathleen, I too am sorry for your loss, but this is a great tribute to the whole family, feelings of the pain and loss as well as the everyday grind of dealing with cancer…heartbreaking but a beautiful story.
Thank you my friend.
Kathleen
Wow. That was beautiful, powerful, and moving.
You have my deepest condolences over the loss of your mum.
Chris ~~ Thank you on both levels.
Kathleen
The voice held a subtle influence she had not felt before. Finally, the essence of who she was broke free of the subterfuge called life. The answers she wrote would be froth to most. But for her they were the light hidden in a rolling sea of despair.
She would wander no more if the marvelous words would streamline all she sought. It had been a lifetime operation that left her weary and more than a little afraid. Success had been so hard to define, yet simple at the same time. Was she brave enough to try?
Of course she is! Or at least she’d better be, unless you want the story to go elsewhere… you really should write a novel Cathy–oops, pardon the should, but you sure could.
Shoulda, coulda, woulda, Anne. 😉 I hope that’s in my future.
Cathy, it’s your inner Shane, telling you to write that novel. LOL
I love the indirect connection of the sea and froth. Was that intentional, or serendipitous?
Cheers,
Mitch
Semi-intentional, Mitch. 😉 Inner-Shane – LOL! His nagging…er…voice is definitely inside my head. 🙂
Cathy ~
Wow… this one will stay with me for a long time 🙂
And yes I know you will, oh I mean she will be brave.
After all… Failure is not a dirty word. It is merely proof we tried. And it reminds us we missed the mark by a bit, and we need to re-tool and try again.
Kathleen
Lovely perspective, Kathleen. Thank you. 🙂
you know, this is why I love the CCC. You read stories that make you cheer, laugh, cry and think. They leave you wanting more. This is a great starting to a book, and would be great in a commercial for the movie.
Thanks, Justin. 🙂
Beautiful, Cathy!
I hope she listens to that voice and the frothy opinions of others be damned! TRY!!!
Thanks, Chris. 🙂
Hey guys…whipped this one out, all in order!
A subtle fragrance tickled his olfactory sense, drifting on the slight breeze. It was her essence that he could smell, a sensation that he had not experienced in years. He knew now that her death was but a subterfuge, a false trail that she had laid down, to hide herself from the world, and from him, for all these long years.
He had known back then that she hadn’t really thrown herself away into the froth of the rolling surf, or that she had not simply taken to wander down some dark street to be killed in an alleyway.
The smell was marvelous, bringing back the memories of Malta and the Philippines, the times when they had set out to streamline their operation and eliminate competition. That had been a success, and they had fallen so completely in love….but that was a long time ago.
He tightened his grip on the cold .45, his thumb absently rubbing the shiny spot where the serial number had been filed off. She was near, and soon would be gone; for real, forever this time.
Well my goodness… to find a love and then eliminate her! Wow!
Good job! I l Love “a false trail that she laid down, to hide herself….
Kathleen
I had to chuckle at the last line, as it brought up an image of Mr. and Mrs. Smith in the desert scene. There really is a thin line, eh?
Nice work, Justin!
Cheers,
Mitch
Whoa — excellent intrigue! I love the depth of drama and relationship you accomplished with a few quick brush strokes..
[…] Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #371 […]
Hi all! I really liked this list of prompt words, and instead of a 10×10, I was inspired to come up with an impromptu story (with the words used in order).
Here it is:
A Fluke of Nature
Doctor Nathanial Hawkins paused, uncertain how to respond to his newest client. As a highly-sought and very successful plastic surgeon to the rich and powerful, he’d almost become jaded to the odd requests he’d had in his career, but he still found himself flustered at what Brooke Swanson was asking.
“I’m not sure it would be… in your best interest,” he finally said.
“You don’t have to be subtle with me,” she said. “I want your blunt assessment, not your sugar-coated opinions. Is it possible?”
Hawkins sighed and regarded her — mid-thirties, beautiful, excellent health, and obscenely wealthy. In essence, she was the perfect patient for much of his work. But she wanted much more than a tummy tuck or a new nose.
“Yes, I actually think it could be possible. But I question the ethics of doing it.”
She laughed. “I don’t care about the ethics. It’s my decision and it’s between you and me. I’ll sign whatever release forms you want to make sure your ass is covered. I only demand absolute secrecy. But I would hope you have had enough experience with the subterfuge needed to hide your work from the prying public.”
In his mind, he ran through the procedures required. Each would be extensive and challenging. But they would also be ground-breaking.
“You won’t be able to hide it forever,” he said. “Something of this magnitude will eventually leak out.”
“I only need long enough to heal. Then my pilot and my staff will fly me out the US. I already have the island set up, thousands of miles away from the news media and the lawyers. All I’ll have around me will be the froth from the rolling waves and blue water in every direction.”
Hawkins let his thoughts wander again. If what she was asking for worked, it would be amazing, unlike anything ever attempted. The results would be simply marvelous to behold. He would become even more famous — not just to the aging elite in a desperate search to maintain the illusion of youth. He would become a household name.
And he had to admit to himself he was excited about it.
# # #
Hawkins removed his hat and wiped his brow. The tropical sun was relentless, but the view across the sparkling lagoon was spectacular. Brooke Swanson had chosen well on this isolated island. He followed the ripples as she swam up to the dock.
“So what do you think, Doctor Hawkins?” she said after breaching the water. “You still like your work?”
“Call me Nate,” he said. “They removed my license following the trial. I’m no longer technically a doctor.”
“I’m sorry about that,” she said.
“I’m not. It was worth it.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. I flew you down because I wanted to make sure. And also to offer to increase your payment as restitution. I didn’t intend to ruin your career.”
He admired the sleekness of the plasticized skin covering the buoyancy chambers along her sides; the intricate way the dorsal fin had been grafted onto her spine; the smooth streamline of curves as her merged legs flowed into the wide fluke of her dolphin-like tail; and the delicate way the embedded tubes ran under her cheekbones from her sinus cavities to the artificial gills implanted along her neck.
She used her arms to tread water in front of him, her webbed fingers sweeping gracefully through the water
He thought her even more beautiful than she had ever been.
“You didn’t ruin my career,” he said. “You made it.”
He laughed. “The operation was a complete success, and because of you, I’ll be forever known as the man who made a mermaid.”
# # #
Chris, this was brilliant! I was literally leaning into the monitor with anticipation.
Now, I want to know more: of course, why did Brooke want this? How does she live? Will Nate get more business? LOL
Cheers,
Mitch