Writing Prompt – Creative Copy Challenge #462

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. Pilgrimage
  2. Breaking Bread
  3. Cornucopia
  4. Platitudes
  5. Purpose
  6. Receptacle
  7. Emblematic
  8. Resplendent
  9. Relief
  10. Technique

13 Comments on “Writing Prompt – Creative Copy Challenge #462”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    Petri was giving a lecture at a university somewhere in the future:

    “Good morning, class. Today, I am going to teach you about the interconnectedness of all things. In the space of thirty seconds, one person can reach into the Resplendent Receptacle of the Universe, touch 100,000 other people, and leave an unremarkable stamp on the timeline of human existence.

    “It doesn’t matter whether this person probes the cornucopia with purpose and intent; or peppers the space with trite platitudes. The mark he leaves is no sharper than the emblematic design in bas-relief on a worn coin.

    “Yet, for that brief moment, 100,000 souls perturbate like a plucked guitar string. Put your ear to the timeline and you will hear inspiration, annoyance, indifference, applause and a myriad of other murmurs.

    “Did you know that myriad means 10,000? The Greeks used the word to mean countless. It is appropriate to note here that, during the thirty seconds one person is tapping the Universe, a myriad simultaneous contacts are made elsewhere.

    “This sets up chain reactions, much like strumming 10,000 guitars at once. Is it cacophony? Symphony? Angels dancing on the head of a pin? It is all of these and more. It is the pilgrimage to one’s homeland, the ritual of breaking bread, the salute of Namaste, the sigh at the end of a glorious sensation.

    “As overwhelming as the concept of myriad may be, I offer you a technique for exploring one single facet–a sample of the timeline–just to get a sense of the level of connectedness…”

    Petri waved his wooden pointer ceiling-ward. The lights went out and the vast lecture hall went dark. He continued to speak:

    “Beneath each seat is a gift. It does not belong to you. Only one of your classmates will appreciate this gift. Using your four senses, get the gift to the right person.”

    The students all began scrambling about, murmuring confusedly and listening to the sounds of paper shredding. After a moment, one voice spoke up, “Rashad, I believe I have some chocolate-covered prunes for you!”

    Everyone laughed. The spell was broken and, soon, each gift was sampled, sniffed and shaken on its way to an appreciative recipient.

    Petri quietly left the room on the HyperDrive.

  2. Chet Ensign says:

    We invented a technnique for breaking bread. The stuff was so stale and solid, it was like granite and you could beat on it for hours and hardly dent it. Little Kubie, the smart guy, he came up with the idea to wedge three big stones together to make a sort of receptacle. We’d sit the loaf into it upright and turn our hammer upside down and bust through the end of it. Then we could pry it apart and break up the pieces.

    Warden Cusco, resplendent in his clean, starched white shirt, his red bow tie and his thick glasses, would come down after lunch every day and make a speech. He said our invention was emblematic of how we were reinventing ourselves. Changing our souls through the blessed cornucopia of labor from the selfish little egos we’d been when we arrived into glorious spirits, rising above ourselves in our pilgrimage to God. He give speeches like that every day after his lunch and sometimes, when an idea struck him that he just had to share, over the loudspeakers at night just before lights out. He was always at it, spraying his platitudes over us like moral insecticide. The sharp crackle when he switched off the microphone was a relief.

    “Be thankful for your work,” he always said at the end but we knew better. We knew there was no greater purpose to it. Nothing more than breaking up the loaves enough to make our gruel.

    • KathleenMK says:

      Chet, Chet, Chet!
      What a great weaving of the word list.
      I fell in love with, “over us like moral insecticide.”
      and then you followed it up with:
      “The sharp crackle when he switched off the microphone was a relief.”

      Write On,


    • Anklebuster says:

      Chet, this is great!!! I’m speechless. All I can do is tell you that my favorite bit is this:

      He was always at it, spraying his platitudes over us like moral insecticide. The sharp crackle when he switched off the microphone was a relief.



  3. KathleenMK says:

    “Do you remember breaking bread with me the first time?” Leo asked.

    “Yes,” Samantha said the corners of her mouth began to rise with the memory of their first date.

    Lips that Leo could not help but notice were plumb and shiny. Kissable. His mind began filling with a cornucopia of thoughts that worked to make him split his attention while driving.

    I so want to tell her how beautiful she is and how much I want to kiss those inviting lips, but I don’t want my compliments to sound like mere platitudes, especially when I desire to have the words I say to her convey my full meaning,” he said silently to himself. I have to have just the right words so she gets my meaning and see there is a purpose for me in her life.

    The butterflies began to take flight in his stomach as his determination to stay true to this pilgrimage waned.

    I never expected to be so nervous… he chided himself as he turned into the parking lot of the restaurant.

    After parking the car in the nearest open slot, he doubled-timed it around to her side of the car and opened the door for her. She looked up at him. The look of love was so evident that no onlooker, stranger or friend, could deny it. He reached for her hand. She placed hers in his before swinging her legs out of the car. He drank he sight of the exposed skin of her legs and as she came to fill height before him his eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of her cleavage and bare shoulders. His smile grew even bigger.

    “Do you want to bring a wrap in with you?” he asked her.

    “No, thank you. If I get a chill, it will give me a good excuse to snuggle with you,” she said as her cheeks gained a light shade of red.

    “Well then, let’s get you to your seat for something cold,” he said teasingly.

    Moments after entering the building the maître d’ showed them to the table Leo had requested weeks ago.

    “I hope you don’t mind sitting over here,” he said with a light tremble in his voice as she sat.

    She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she gazed out the picture window, “No, no this is an absolutely beautiful view. Thank you for choosing this place and these seats,” she said assuringly.

    The waiter, nearly magically, appeared table-side with a bottle of Acacia Chardonnay and two glasses. He presented the bottle, label side up for Leo to inspect. Leo nodded. The waiter place a long steamed wine glass in front of each of them before placing the bottle on the table and uncorking it. He poured enough for a mouthful in the goblet in front of Leo. Leo took the glass by the steam and handed it to Samantha. She smiled at the polite gesture. Although it is traditional for the man to taste the wine first, she knew it was a showing of respect and trust. Accepting the compliment within their relationship she took the glass and tilted it until the golden liquid was able to enter her mouth. There she let it warm on her tongue before titling her head back, ever so slightly, while opening her mouth a little so she could suck in air, further releasing the flavors in the wine.

    She swallowed. Her face became awash with pleasure. Leo knew the wine was not going to disappoint his taste buds either. But he could not take his eyes off of the rapture he was witnessing, so he sat watching her.

    “UUUmmmm yes, this is wonderful,” she said placing the glass back in Leo’s hand, “wonderful choice as usually.”

    Leo set the glass down, looked up at the waiter and nodded. The waiter released the wine from the light green bottle pouring Samantha’s glass half full and then repeating this in Leo’s glass.

    “I will leave this here in case I am not near when you want more,” he waiter said before turning on his heels. “Appetizers will be out soon,” he said, over his shoulder.

    “I hope you don’t mind me getting the evening started so quickly?” Leo asked. “I only took privy with the first wine and appetizers,” he added.

    “No, no, I think this is wonderful. Don’t worry your beautiful little head about it,” she said lifting her glass toward him. He responded in like manner. “To a wonderful evening my dear man,” she said just before a light clink could be heard as the glasses touched.

    Well, dinner has gone off without a hitch,’ Leo said to himself as he gazed at his beloved. It was then the butterflies took flight again. He took a deep breath, held it and slowly released it.

    “Is everything alright?” she asked as she reached across the table placing her hand on his arm. “You are shaking. Are you cold?”

    As his stomach churned the large decorative pot in the corner of the room was beginning to look like the perfect receptacle for his stomach contents.

    Another deep breath, just breathe it will be okay. What’s the worse things that could happen? She could turn me down, that’s what could happen, he thought before finding his voice. “No. I’m not cold.”
    Just then the waiter came into view. He was holding a serving tray up high. He paused as he got near the table making eye contact with Leo. Leo nodded and managed a smile. The waiter set the tray down on the stand before speaking.

    “Miss,” he said picking up the layered Creme Brulee Crepe Cake and setting it in on the table front of Samantha. “Would you like coffee as well?”

    Mesmerized by the 10 layers of crepes separated by a creamy looking pastry cream, she merely nodded. As she stared she was not witness to the waiter winking at Leo.

    “It’s beautiful. Almost too beautiful to cut into and eat,” she said with a smile as she looked up.

    “The Crème Brulee Crepe Cake has become one of the house standards, as it is loved by so many,” the waiter said with pride as he set a sugar bowl and container of cream within her view, next to the coffee cup and saucer. “I made the coffee a bit strong, so you may want to add a bit to it,” he suggested as he turned to leave the love birds alone.

    “Maybe you should see what kind of sugar they have in that bowl. I hear they offer the raw, brown sugar,” Leo suggested.

    “Oh… but…”

    “Awe, come on!” Leo said, “You don’t have to add anything to your coffee, but we wouldn’t want to miss the experience and all…”

    Acquiescing, she picked up the lid of the sugar pot.

    “You are right they do serve the brown raw ruff cut sugar,” she said, adding, “but it is not the only resplendent thing in this container.”

    “Oh please don’t tell me there is a bug in there.”

    “No. No there is something shinny. It seems to have as many facets as the surface of one of the sugar crystals.” She said no more. Her eyes stayed fixed on the offering. She noticed the container was beginning to move ever so slightly; her hands were beginning to shake. Oh stop shaking, please. I don’t want to drop this. I don’t want to break anything, she coached herself.

    Moments, that seemed to stretch on into minutes, later she noticed Leo was no longer sitting across from her. She began looking around for him. Her search was halted as she found him on one knee beside where she sat.

    “Samantha,” he said pausing to swallowing the lump in his throat. “Samantha, will you honor me and make plans with me to spend the rest of our life together?”

    The words triggered a pool of tears to well in her eyes.

    “Yes. Yes, I would,” she said in a near whisper.

    He reached up and took the ring from the sugar jar. Bringing it up to his lips he blew any sugar off of it and placed the emblematic representation of love on the left ring-finger of his, now, fiancé. He held onto her hands, not wanting to ever let go.

    “I don’t know who is shaking more, my love; you or me,” he said with a smile.

    “It is so resplendent,” she said not taking her eyes off of the reminder of love for all to see.

    Relief washed over Leo from head to toe.

    As they headed out of the restaurant the waiter stepped up behind Leo and said, “And you were worried your proposal technique wouldn’t work….”

  4. Anklebuster says:

    Kathleen, your descriptive prose is mesmerizing. From loving gazes to layered crêpes, you don’t miss a thing in these romantic interludes. I don’t even notice the challenge words…



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