Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge # 400

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> before and </b> after each of your challenge words if you want them to stand out, but NOT REQUIRED THOUGH.

 

  1. Solar
  2. Plew – a beaver skin
  3. Rumpot – a habitual or heavy drinker
  4. Saucier – a sauce chef
  5. Struthious – having to do with or resembling an ostrich
  6. Tsantsa – a human head shrunk as a war trophy by the Jivaro people of Ecuador
  7. Ulu – a short-handled knife with a broad crescent-shaped blade, used by Inuit women.
  8. Uniped – a person or animal with only one foot or leg
  9. Wittol – a man who knows of and tolerates his wife’s infidelity.
  10. Ylem – (in a big bang theory) the primordial matter of the universe.
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9 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge # 400”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    The Anomaly
    History is such a funny word. Not funny, ha-ha, like plew which—if you say it fast enough long enough, you snort milk through your nose—but funny, strange. You see, we only have the word of those who came before; yet, the very etymology of “history” implies consciousness. Literally, it means to know through inquiry, to see. That is the one thing we could never do with past events. Until we discovered the ylem muncher.

    This creature devoured everything that had ever appeared on or off of the planet. Indeed, this omnivore continuously consumed the entire solar system. It first appeared as an anomaly in the boundless void*. The only reason the universe still exists is that the ylem muncher had more powerful celestial cousins. These entities found a way to contain the ylem muncher’s appetite.

    Throughout much of mankind’s existence, the ylem muncher was known by various names: “Huracán”, the mythical Mayan uniped god; hurricane; orcan; cloud-bringer; blinder. Huracán destroyed humans’ ability to be god-like. He had decided that he alone should enjoy omniscience. He gobbled up man’s magnificence. He snacked on their earthworks. He took an ulu to their memories, leaving only the spark of creativity.

    Humans slowly devolved into mental midgets, with struthious necks in the sand of ignorance. Their once-mighty spirits were reduced to the status of a rumpot wittol, soaking shameful memories into the oblivion known as antiquity. Thus, history became a tsantsa of knowledge itself.

    Yet, that creative spark, a vital ingredient in the spice rack of the scientific method, permitted Einstein, the Grand Saucier of theoretical physicists, to develop the general theory of relativity. That spark, ignited in the creative mind of Richard Feynman, resulted in his thesis “The Principle of Least Action in Quantum Mechanics”.

    Finally, the spark culminated in the explosive discovery of a malevolent omniphage lurking in supercooled liquid helium. Scientists linked this semi-organic mystery to butterfly wings, the Ebola virus and the plaques found in the brains of victims of Alzheimer’s disease.

    The ylem muncher had brought his game out of the darkness.

    • KathleenMK says:

      Mitch ~~ (Sorry to be so late to the table, surgery and all the last few weeks have kept me away almost too long.)

      “…the yelm muncher….” great use;
      and
      “Einstein, the Grand Saucier of theoretical physicists…” both my spouse-type are enjoying this one!

      I love the addition of the real into your work! I am lovin’ it so much I am reading it aloud to the spouce-type our house guest!

      Keep up the wonderful work.

      Kathleen

  2. KathleenMK says:

    Mind-full Conversation … a continuing reality

    The star, although it is 92.96 million miles away, reached out heating the medium weight pieced plew quilt that, in turn, warmed the sullen auburn haired lady. Although the solar flares erupted, she did not notice. Cuddling under both the sun and the beaver pelt she sipped on a warm cup of Mexican Coffee. The tequila, Kahlua and coffee worked to warm her from the inside out, but as she shivered she realized neither the liquor nor the sun were accomplishing their goal.

    She glanced up at the sky; her cloudy, bloodshot eyes – framed by the red skin that held her lashes – searched for anything, but found nothing of value.

    It was then that she spoke addressing a question unheard by anyone else; not that there was anyone near to hear even her words.

    “I too have dreamed of an Orange Blob tsantsa,” she mumbled like the rumpot she looked like frequently at this time of year.

    Well, at least consistently for the last five years. But she knew it did not take copious amounts of intoxicants to make her look this way. It was, in part, why she had taken to holding up in this secluded location each year early in September. To hide. To avoid explaining. To avoid faking the happiness others wanted for her.

    “Have you taken up studying how to shrink heads Lovie? I am sure there are some Ecuadorian Jivaroians up there to learn from. After all I don’t believe there is anything in the bible that says war trophies, including shrunken heads is a bad thing,” she rambled on a bit.

    “No momma, but I may look at that, now that you mention it. I have been studying the ylem,” she distinctly heard her son’s voice, a voice she hoped she never forget.

    “You’ve got enough time now to study something so big, don’t you Lovie,” she said nodding.

    “Momma…”

    “Yes, Lovie.”

    “Why are you being so stuthious-like?”

    “What? My ulu is sharp – it reminds me of the Arabian knife you were given at the age of 6 – my whit is dull and his actions make me akin to a uniped. Sometimes his actions cripple me, still. Make me feel like a uniped with the wind knocked out of my lungs each time I try to get past this.”

    “Oh momma … please don’t be so sad. Gmaw is here now. I am not alone. And I am waiting for you, patiently now momma. I am watching over you and the girls, and I see you are often better.”

    Something brushed her cheek. Was that the wind or my son’s hand? she wondered as she leaned into it, gaining a shred of comfort.

    “Remember momma, he is as shameful as a wittol – heck momma, he’s worse than a man who knows and tolerates his wife is unfaithful. He’s had a set of twins with his effing half-sister and lived with her as his wife. Pay him no mind momma.”

    Her stomach turned a bit at the truth in her son’s statement.

    “Why don’t you go bring others joy, expand upon your tasty talents and become the saucier you’ve dreamed of and celebrate the 19 years I had, we had together? I have learned there are mole sauces, reductions, hollandaise and so many more sauces you can learn to make,” he encouraged.

    “Nineteen years and 110 days, Lovie,” the sadness lingered in the air.

    “And 110 days momma,” she could hear the joy in his voice.

    She lifted her coffee mug toward the clouds as the tears welled in her eyes. “I will try son,” a statement she did not feel up to embracing. Instead she followed it by taking a big gulp of the warm liquid. But the day you got your wings still stings.

    “I know momma, sorry.

    • Dan Dry says:

      Wow,don’t know how you did it

    • Anklebuster says:

      Kathleen, I never know what to say at times like this. Thanks for sharing and I hope it helped you to write it.

      Mitch

      • KathleenMK says:

        Mitch ~~ Your verbal hugs over the years have been part of my healing.

        You, all who read and play here, let me write about things that are, at times, hard for all of US to deal with. I know that, often, I say/write about things that others 1-don’t feel comfortable discussing, 2- but appreciate that I do, because … God forbid, something akin to this happens to someone they know they can empathize; and if it happens to them, well, then I have led by example a way to muddle through it all.

        And as usual… I just hope I don’t make you hurt because I write it. Yes, I still worry about the impact that my honesty has on others with big hearts.

        Glad to be part of this family,
        Kathleen


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