Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #453

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 <b>bolding</b> 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! Or, as cleverly done by a CCC-er you can CAPITALIZE the challenge words in your piece.

  1. Landforms
  2. Languages
  3. Lagoon
  4. Lakebed
  5. Lava Dome
  6. Latitude
  7. Lowland
  8. Meander
  9. Natural arch
  10. Overhang
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35 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #453”

  1. Terraformer 2000 came with a microphone, but no manual. It was the latest software from Landforms, LLC., a virtual replicator for the hologram television entertainment platform. Landforms specialized in virtual landscapes for Massive Arco Multiplayer Universes (MAMUs.) I put away my Cheerios, sat back and flicked on the mic.

    The mic searched for and found my television. After a brief and private conversation about transfer speeds, I suppose, the television lit up and displayed a single word in garish yellow Gothic letters:

    LANGUAGES

    Because I was stupid, I spoke into the mic, “Pig Latin.”

    Terraformer happily obliged: ELECTSAY EMETHAY

    I laughed delightedly. “Martian Lowland.

    ATTHAY OESDAY OTNAY OMPUTECAY. LEASEPAY RYTAY AGAINWAY.

    Oops. Okay, I had to get out of this foolishness. I uttered, “Ebootray.”

    The television dramatically emitted some fake smoke from the fan vents. The ugly letters returned to the screen:

    LANGUAGES

    I meekly said, “English.”

    Now, Terraformer asked: SELECT THEME.

    I was on my way.

    After several hours, during which the software alternated between misapplying my commands and berating me for my unrealistic designs, I managed to turn a dull red rock into an ice-skating rink. It was a frozen lagoon off the frozen coast of a polar cap, which I had melting slowly due to heat from an inverted lava dome. The dome itself was suspended from a natural arch of metamorphic rock.

    Well, that is what I saw. My wife came home, snickered at the screen and congratulated me on designing a caveman’s discothèque.

    “Love the fiery globe on that granite overhang, babe.” She set her briefcase down and snuggled up behind my chair.

    “That’s supposed to be marble. Stupid mic kept confirming that I was saying ‘metaphoric rock’.”

    “Now, now. Don’t hate. We spent a lot of time on the etymology module. It isn’t perfect. The mic has to be given some latitude for the differences in speech patterns, dialects and accents.”

    I craned my neck back to glance lovingly at my wife. Then I hissed, “Bullshit!”

    She laughed and shrugged in surrender. “Hey, they don’t pay me enough to parse every single word. I fudged the Bayesian module a bit. You should have seen what the Riparian Team did with the lakebed function. If you say meander, the landscape shifts until it resembles Mother Nature’s nether region. Nobody ever sees it, though, because the water comes in too quickly.”

    I playfully grabbed her and sat her on my lap. “I have another landscape I wish to to explore.”

    The mic was smarter than I thought: it saved my work, dimmed the television and commanded it to play some jazz.

  2. Planetary Alignment

    Anaïs let her fingers trail down the vertebral knobs at the back of Cam’s neck. She contemplated the landforms of Mercury while her hand meandered the curve of his shoulder blade. Smooth, coppery skin reminded her of the striking overhang from which she had an unobstructed, breathtaking view of the undulating, marble dunes of the Pensa Plains.

    It was on the Pensa Plains that Anaïs had realized that Mercury was not a dead planet. Standing in the hot, shimmering stillness, Anaïs had felt the surface of the planet heave softly. She had fallen to her knees, expecting the abrupt violence of a dry, tectonic shift, cleaving the planet’s crust to create the smoking fissures she had explored on her arrival. Instead, she felt a steady, rhythmic rise and fall. Mercury, itself, was breathing.

    Anaïs smiled, wondering if Earth’s first humans were attuned to the respiration of their planet. “Cam?” she asked, touching the natural arch of his spine, near the lowland latitudes of his Latissimus Dorsi.

    “Yes?”

    “I’m ready.” Anaïs knew that she would never see Earth again. Denial had made her a warrior of one, fighting a battle against Time’s invisible army. She had grown weary of this solitary warCam rolled over and wrapped her in a warm embrace. As his lips sealed her surrender, Anaïs saw the planet as Cam saw it: Verdant, lush, teeming with life, the silence shattered by the music of a myriad mellifluous languages. Shady lagoons and sunny, whitecapped oceans deep with translucent purple water, reflecting a cotton candy sky. Anaïs fell into his orbit, fascinated.

    The lava dome had been growing, almost imperceptibly, for days. Now, it rose up fast and hot from beneath the arid, cracked lakebed to merge with the dull, brass sky. Anaïs, boneless, ecstatic, burst into a billion billion points of light as a planet was reborn.

    • Wow, Holly, that was sensually pleasant. Your flowing prose brought that little rock to life!

      Cheers,

      Mitch

      • Thank you, Mitch! I wasn’t quite sure, as I wrote it, where flesh ended and planet began, or vice versa. I think I managed, unwittingly, to write a creation myth. (I should say it wrote itself through me, because I really never sit down and PLAN these things – they happen. I take dictation.

        • Interesting! I think I begin to understand our synchronicity – I am enamored of creation myths! Several CCC entries will bear this out, but the most obvious is the CCC-inspired Sisterhood of the Void.

          And I still recall your Statue of Liberty story…I think that fits, too, unless memory is fuzzier than a peach.

          • I suppose my creation myths share an element of post-apocalyptic hope and re-creation. That’s how I saw that “Statue of Liberty” story (which I found, by the way – in #278, here. Kind of hard to read with all the character corruption, so I may have to clean it up and repost it on my own blog. I thought I had, but only found it here. I’d supplied the word list for that, and was one of the last to post.

          • Still, a lovely story. The entire collection of posts was corrupted when Shane moved them from self-hosted to WordPress.com.

            Now, when I do apocalypses, I leave no hope! LOL So, we diverge and find our unique paths.

            Hurry back!

            Cheers,

            Mitch

    • I think I was holding my breath in the end! Way to suck me into your world and leave me gasping in the end. :0)

    • KathleenMK says:

      Holly ~ Sorry for my lateness to the table, it’s been a family time break for me.

      I love how you have the planet(s) breathing!

      Wow, this story changed speed and intensity and changed and turned in a way that I did not expect. Quite beautiful ending, as well.

      Write On,

      Kathleen

  3. […] words not listed in the prompt, a playful hint of the erotic. You can read his, and others, at Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #453. That got us to talking about a shared interest in this sort of story. He had remembered this […]

  4. OMG. The commentary on the old site was nearly as much fun as the submissions!

  5. Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
    And doesn’t know where to find them;
    Leave them alone, and they’ll come home,
    wagging their tails behind them.

    They hadn’t returned leaving Bo Peep in stitches,
    She got dressed in britches and searched all the ditches.
    She searched by the lakebed and by the lagoon ,
    And all the landforms in that latitude .
    She swore an oath as through plains she meandered ,
    The lowlands she searched and over near Frankford.
    She listened for their language of soft little bleats,
    Following a trail of their misguided feets.
    And where did she find them, not resting at home,
    But near the overhang of a large lava dome !
    The view of the natural arch of the land,
    Showed small dots of fluff in a tight little band.

    Little Bo Peep called to her sheep,
    They listened and took to her lead.
    And descended from high, one at a time,
    Their wagging tails taking the lead!


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