Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #387

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. Bald
  2. Farsighted
  3. Pursuing
  4. Notice
  5. Memory
  6. Dust
  7. Spiral
  8. Band
  9. Oblivious
  10. Pretence

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.)

27 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #387”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    Your wedding band is oblivious to the memory of before. It takes notice, however, of your pathetic pretense at pursuing fidelity. How else do you think your dalliance was exposed?

    Maybe your spouse caught you in a bald-faced lie; apoplexy did bulge behind incredulous, tear-filled eyes as your tongue, brain and nerves shimmied to a stuttering beat of deception. Perhaps a misstep with technology, compounded by coincidental—yet innocent—interception of a cryptic text catapulted your rocky relationship into this spiral of mistrust. No. Simple hubris is the architect of your downfall.

    How can you be farsighted enough to stash the symbol of your vows in the glove compartment, night after night; but, myopically be incapable of realizing that the dust from each day’s commute should not be disturbed?

    Love is blind; your spouse is not.

  2. kathleenMK says:

    Without his glasses his farsightedness challenged his ability to clearly read the label on the cigars. His memory would need to serve him today.

    I hope she does not notice me squinting. He thought to himself as he saw her sitting under the umbrella at the far side of the patio. Pursuing someone you are interested in is fraught with fine lines I have to make sure I do not cross. Oh she looks fabulous today, he thought as he closed the distance between them.

    “Hello,” Lucile said purred welcomingly as she watch Leslie approach the table.

    “Well, hello there Miss Lucile. May I join you?” he asked not wanting to assume anything, even if it was a prearranged date.

    “Yes,” she said smiling, “yes, please do.” She licked her lips, nearly drooling at the sight of him.

    “I am glad you choose to sit out on the patio today…” he said as he settled in the chair opposite her.

    “You are… why is that?” she playfully interrupted.

    “Because it makes it easier for us to enjoy a little something special I have brought today.”

    Much akin to a child waiting for a magician to reveal that which is hidden under the colorful scarf she quickly sat up in her chair. The sparkles in her blue eyes gave rise to butterflies in his stomach, so much that he hesitate for a moment as he slid his right hand under the lapel of his blazer. She grabbed the edge of the chair bringing her shoulders forward causing his focus to change from her eyes to the cleavage he was now presented with. He swallowed pulling out a couple tubes out of his inside pocket.

    “Uuuummm, what do you have there?” she asked as her hands came up and she lightly clapped them together.

    “As promised, I dusted off my humidor and brought somethings I was thinking we can enjoy with desert today.”

    “Wonderful.” The beige and green metal tubes hid the cigars from view, but her glee did not wane.

    “I brought a couple of Altadis. A Colorado Maduro and a Double Maduro.”

    “Oh, so you intend to stay long enough for a cognac?” she coyly asked.

    “Well,” he swallowed hard now. Oh goodness, did I assume too much? What if she doesn’t want to spend that much time with me? After all this will be our longest date if we even enjoy a meal together, a smoke, desert, and… well, a man can hope she will come back to my house where I can seduce her into a long smoke on a cool cigar and more. Sweat began to gather at his brow. “Well, yes, unless you decide that a single malt would suit your taste buds better after you get a whiff of these,” he said faking the confidence of a man with a solid plan.

    “Well I guess the flavor of your offerings will determine scotch or cognac,” she said with growing smile.

    “Shall we wait until after we enjoy some… salmon and a salad before we even temp our senses with these?” he said rotating the smooth cylinders between his thumb and fingers.

    Lucile sat back in her chair bringing the long fingers of her left hand up to her glossy red lips. She taped her bottom lip with her nails, “Hhhhuuummm,” she said as she contemplated a good smoke. “Well, let’s wait. Yes, let us wait,” she said with raised eyebrows.

    Just then the waiter stepped up the table setting down the plate with oysters on the half-shell between them, “Would you like to start with that red wine you choose ma’am?”

    “I hope you do not mind,” smiling, she looked over at Leslie, “I got here a little early and perused the wine list while waiting. And ordered something to start our gathering off with,” she punctuated her comment with the light biting of her bottom lip in anticipation of his reaction.

    “Oh, no. I hope I did not make you wait,” he said letting his concern resonate in his voice.
    Should I have been earlier? Oh I hope this doesn’t change things.

    “OOOOOhhhhhhh, no. I was early,” she tried to dismiss his worries about his on time arrival. “So is a cab okay with you Leslie?”

    “Yes,” his smile grew, “yes a cab would be fine,” he said oblivious to the waiter’s presence as his eyes were transfixed on the beauty in front of him.

    They began letting an oyster slide down their throats while they waited for the wine and glasses to be brought to the table. Before they could get the fifth and sixth oysters down the glazed salmon on a bed of garden greens lightly drenched by an oil and vinegar dressing arrived. Fresh Sourdough bread accented each plate.
    “May I get you two desert?” the waiter asked as he cleared the lunch plates.

    “Please bring us each some Quinta De La Rosa Tawney Port,” Leslie requested, “this will go well with which ever cigar you choose today,” he said turning his attention back to Lucile.
    As the waiter scampered off to get the liquid desert Leslie uncorked the lids on the tubes. “Lady’s choice,” he said invitingly.

    Placing the tip of her middle and ring fingers on the bald aluminum cylinders she rolled them to and fore on the table. Moments later she picked up the green tube disembarking a tobacco leaf wrapped in a tight spiral notion gracefully overlapping itself from tip to butt. She began to inspect the medium brown outermost leaf, first by sight, squeezing it lightly testing the denseness of the cigar, then by smell. She lifted the torpedo shaped hand rolled cigar up to her nose, inhaling. Just them the waiter returned with two port sippers. He silently placed one in front of each of them.

    “Aawwee, just in time. Thank you,” she said to the young man as she reached for the sipper in front of her with her left, instead of placing her lips on the curved glass straw-like protrusion, as she was tempted, she merely placed her nose close to the opening of the glass and inhaled letting its bouquet clear her olfactory sensors. Satisfied she had achieved a natural untainted passageway she picked up the beige tube unsheathing the second cigar, concentrating her inspection on the darker Parejo shaped roll. As she considered which one to light up she placed the darker cigar on the table as well.

    “Wow, what a treat,” she said still undecided. It was then that she rolled the cigars so she could read the bands. “Uuummm the reviews of this one,” she said with her fingers lingering on the Double Maduro, “they say this one is the heavier of the two, yet it still has the smooth taste.” Leslie waited patiently as she choose.

    But as she lingered on the edge of vacillation he offered: “I have found the reviews to not be far off,” Leslie noted, reaching into his pants pocket he fingered his double guillotine-style cutter. “When I smoked my first of each I was not disappointed. The peppery aftertaste is not overpowering of the hints of vanilla and coconut.”

    “Well, that explains why you choose the port you did,” she said.

    “The Colorado has a bit more of a grassy undertone to it, if that helps you decided,” Leslie added.

    “Well, I will start with the Colorado then,” she said picking up the lighter hued cigar.

    “Here you go,” he said pulling the cutter out of his pocket and offering it to her. Smiling she accepted it. And before the waiter could flick his Bick Leslie’s flame was lit and waiting in front of Lucile’s chosen stogie. She leaned forward allowing the tip of the cigar to enter the flame. She drew a long breath, drawing the fire into the wrapped tobacco. “And then, if you would like you can join me for another, from a different region, like Brazil,” Leslie said settling back in his chair, cigar in hand.

    She grinned at the idea. Clever, trying to get me back to his place on the pretense of enjoying another smoke with him. Cleaver. Not a bad move, not a bad move at all, she thought as she pulled the cigar out of her mouth slowly.

    Leslie picked up the glass of port that had been patiently waiting for him. Without taking his eyes off of her, he lifted the glass to his lips. As he sipped he watched her suck air in causing the embers to burn bright red. Oh how well she does that, his mind began to wonder as she tilted her head back and released smoke from her mouth.

    She exhaled a light gray cloud and said, “And does that offer come with cognac?”

    “Yes, yes it does, in the very least,” Leslie said sitting forward and presenting her with her glass of port. Her fingers caressed his sending a warm tingle to both of their groins.

    Once the sippers of port were empty and the cigars three quarters smoked she lazily allowed her hand to trace the line created on her skin where her V-necked dress casually clung to her breast.

    “Would you like to get out of that?” he said without hesitation. She licked her lips before smiling.

    “Would you want to help me with that?”

    He nodded, “certainly.”

    “Well then, quit teasing me and take me to your place and … show me your eeennnnttttiiirrreee cigar collection,” she said with a smirk as she leaned forward while raising her leg until she found his leg under the table. She allowed her leg to continue traveling up his leg. She stopped momentarily where the chair stopped her, but it was then that he moved forward his the chair. The reward was her’s (and his) as he was enthusiastically excited to have the view he was privy to. She could feel it.

  3. Anthony says:

    I love the scent in a good story. Nice, Kathleen.

  4. Anthony says:

    Pursuing her up the spiral was futile, he realised, seeing the notice on the fence. He abandoned any pretence at continuing the chase, oblivious to the road dust slowly settling on his bald head. He’d not been this far beyond the perimeter in a decade; any memory of old tracks was
    useless. He sighed, reflecting. A farsighted man would have brought a band.

  5. Catch-up time again. 😉

    The sun slapped the bald landscape with cruel intent. A lone cactus braced against an assault its farsighted life had not imagined. Pursuing a destiny that no one would notice.

    The touch of rain was a distant memory as dust turned into a baked patchwork of suffering. A spiral of deepening cracks created a band of despair, oblivious to passing time. The desert held no pretense. Relief was not in the plan.

  6. Oops-forgot to bold oblivious.

  7. […] There has been a lot going on. I just decided to pick somewhere to start back up again, and Creative Copy Challenge #387 becomes the starting […]

  8. I know it has been a while since I posted any of my writing. There has been a lot going on. I just decided to pick somewhere to start back up again, and Creative Copy Challenge #387 becomes the starting point.

    This is my submission:

    The Ring

    Jake enters the exhibit twenty years after the death of his fiance. The death, due to cancer, occurred just before the wedding.

    Oblivious to the notice, or maybe despite it, the bald man, using the pretence of sneezing, blew the dust from the spiral band engagement ring, and promptly dropped dead.

    The notice read:

    This Exhibit Cursed
    Disturbing anything related to this magical exhibit, without a full head of hair, may result in death.

    Moral: When pursuing a memory you must be farsighted, even if love is blind.

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