Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #479

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 before and 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.

I am beginning to invite others to be the author of a week’s list of words, that means you too! All you have to do is email me at TheHandMaiden_Kathleen@hotmail.com

Antonyms

  1. Frequent
  2. Seldom
  3. External
  4. Internal
  5. Generous
  6. Stingy
  7. Industrious
  8. Lazy
  9. Rain
  10. Sunshine
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14 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #479”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    Typists of yesteryear relied on industrious and lazy animals to prove their mettle with the clunky communication devices. Despite frequent practice, they seldom scored high enough to secure employment at the stingy offices downtown.

    Rebecca Doolittle had an extra finger beyond her right pinkie. This gave her a generous edge in typing school, as no one ever figured out how she, alone, was always able to correctly punctuate dialogue. When she graduated at the top of her class, she was hand-picked (you’ll pardon the expression) for the Executive Assistant to the Manager of the EFG Corporation.

    She never worked more than two hours a day, though she was paid for eight. When the Manager was out of town, she sat in the internal offices and worked on her novel. In this manner, she was able to publish her first book within a year of joining EFG.

    Flushed with success, Rebecca did what any aspiring new writer would–she quit her job to write full time. Of course, this is when the sunshine turned to rain: a concrete mental block began constructing itself in her mind. While her external façade remained unassailable, nothing escaped from her imagination.

    Rebecca wallowed in self-pity for awhile. After the money ran out, she wallowed in a dark home for indigents, armed only with chewed pencils and cereal boxes for paper. It was here that the greatest novel ever written was born.

    Eleven: The Fox and the Dog.

    • KathleenMK says:

      Mitch ~ I love the extra finger… now I know how people type well and … get punctuation typed fast and correctly! LOL. And yet Rebecca still has “chewed pencils” . Gotta love an extra fingered gal who reverts to tradition to survive!

      Write On,

      Kathleen

  2. KathleenMK says:

    The external façade she wore, like armor, hid the internal struggle that seldom escaped the confines of her skin. Yet at times, like now, when the struggles were frequent she worried they may be visible – in her eyes. She was, more often than not, generous with her smiles for others, all awhile silently evaluating the most effective way to kill each person she encountered.

    “Evaluate how you would kill each person that you pass, each person you encounter. This will keep you alive,” her father’s words rang loud, and often, in her ears as if he was sitting beside her telling it to her again and again. And listen to her father she did. She planed the death of each person she saw whether it be a six-foot four-inch linebacker sized man or a five-foot two-inch female. Including today as she sat, with her back up against the wall, where she afforded herself the advantage of a clear view of the entrance of the café. She worked hard at not being stingy with herself, but after so much loss, a smile for herself was … a luxury.

    Looking out the windows at the rain that fell from the dark, water laden clouds, she found herself wondering if they were tears from God and if His tears would be industrious enough to cleanse the evil from the earth, evil that hides from the rays of sunshine, lurking in the shadows.

    “Maybe that is the lazy way to deal with evil,” she chastised herself. “But, then again, the old ‘an eye for an eye’ view is not acceptable in modern society.” It is that “civilization” that feeds her struggles today and makes her glad she could feel her 9mm Glock in its holster under her arm.

  3. Auntie Nim was a delightfully infuriating bundle of internal contradictions. Industriously lazy and deeply introverted, she invented the most entertainingly involved excuses for staying home with a good book, doing nothing of note. Her cloudy scowl was seldom a harbinger of rain, let alone thunder; just beneath the surface of her stormy external demeanor, Auntie Nim was a generous burst of laughter and sunshine. Stingy with criticism, but lavish with praise – the perfect traits in an aunt. Wasn’t it the sacred duty of aunts to spoil their nieces rotten and drive their sisters batty? If so, then Auntie Nim excelled at aunthood, frequently doing both at once without even trying.

    Admittedly, putting a saddle on the Chihuahua and passing it off as a “miniature purse-pony” for Thea’s sweet sixteenth might have been over the top, but she smiled at the memory of pulling Thea’s feet back onto the ground while scraping her sister’s jaw off the floor.

    ——

    I used this for my first post in the A to Z blogging challenge. Even found a picture of a chihuahua in a saddle.


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