Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #379

Hi all. I hope you had a great Easter.

I’m sorry I haven’t been around much recently. I’ve had a rush of work (which is good) but it has taken all my time to keep up.

Anyway, here we go with this week’s CCC.

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. Region
  2. Carriage
  3. Noodle
  4. Breathing
  5. Uncomfortable
  6. Poke
  7. Never-ending
  8. Fathom
  9. Measuring
  10. Fumble

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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18 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #379”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    Although the probe was not uncomfortable, I tired of the never-ending, nicotine and banana scent of Loretta’s breathing. I couldn’t fathom how these punk vapers assumed that their fog was any less troublesome than traditional secondhand smoke. I decided to ruin her day…

    “Loretta, dear, while you fumble around with the old noodle, exhaling that nasty Chiquita Chesterfield in my general region, have you considered measuring your lung capacity? I bet you are at risk for simian emphysema. That isn’t true, actually, since the banana is nothing more than artificial flavoring. You’ve simply traded tar for ethanol.”

    “You ignorant dinosaur, it’s propylene glycol. Furthermore, your exposure is less than 20% nicotine. You have a better chance getting a stroke from this probe if I poke your antiquated noodle too hard. Don’t think I didn’t catch your feeble double entendre.”

    Thus humbled, I sat quietly in the carriage, as she dug out the last of the amyloid plaques. By the time we returned to my mansion, my marvelous memory would have been restored and I’d finally be able to find my beloved calabash.

  2. bbanne says:

    Gosh you’re fast. Mitch. Your brain must be a constant tumble of story pieces just waiting to be assembled. Now I want to know why your calabash is so special!

    • Anklebuster says:

      Ha-ha! I never sleep at night. That’s not entirely true but, the weekly posts just happen to go up when I’m awake.

      I really just enjoy going with the first thing that hits me when I see these words. Ironically, I just happen to be working with a client who sells those e-cig juice thingys. Only I didn’t KNOW that until I wrote this vignette. (I thought he might be selling gum, because of all the fruit flavors!) Talk about an instant education, huh?

      Anyway, I’m glad you’re back. I was jonesing for my word fix. Couldn’t find my blasted calabash, after all…

      Cheers,

      Mitch

  3. bbanne says:

    The silence was becoming quite uncomfortable by now. My passenger’s breathing was the only thing measuring the passing of time. I was conscious of the queue of cars building up in the entrance behind us but the search seemed to be never-ending. The security guards were obviously more intent on doing their job properly than in keeping the Defence Minister waiting.

    The guard was long and lean, and his noodle-like arm was steady as it poked the under-carriage security scanner beneath my vehicle and probed the region for explosive devices. I wondered if his reach was really as good as it looked. Would he fumble? Would it be in my favour?

    He worked his way around the sides of the limo and back to the front. We were almost done. Almost safe. But then he looked me straight in the eyes through the windscreen. I could feel beads of sweat start to roll from my chauffeurs cap down onto my forehead. He knew! He’d seen it.

    There was nowhere to run. I couldn’t even open the car door wide enough for escape, as the entrance tunnel was so narrow. What was worse- being caught or being blown up?

    I only had 5 minutes left on the clock when, for reasons I couldn’t fathom, he waved me through, allowing me to drive the Minister for Defence into the compound. Without a fumble I put the car into gear and moved slowly forward.

    There was no siren, no yelling, and no swooping of armed guards. All was quiet as I pulled up in front of the ceremonial space and opened the door for the minister to alight. It would be much louder any minute now…

  4. Marcus was quickly approaching a region of no return. Ingenuity was the carriage he rode in on. Destiny was beyond his control.

    Try as he might to noodle around the obstacles, Marcus was forced to meet them head-on. His rapid breathing was a rhythmic co-conspirator as an uncomfortable urgency crept into the tasks at hand.

    He would poke, prod, and pummel the blasted enemy into submission. What seemed like a never-ending battle had lingered well past dawn. Marcus simply could not fathom defeat. He had invested too much.

    Measuring success had become personal. He’d be damned if he would surrender. Marcus would not fumble his shot at supremacy.

    “Got you, you bloody bastard,” he cried.

    The computer blinked in mocking surprise.

  5. bbanne says:

    Haha. I can almost hear the computer cursing at losing the contest. Well done, Cathy.


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