Writing Prompt – Creative Copy Challenge #494

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

  1. Warbler
  2. Jee
  3. Liberation
  4. Festivity
  5. Fireworks
  6. Sparklers
  7. Rockets
  8. Bouncing Betty
  9. Pinwheels
  10. Oneness

 

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4 Comments on “Writing Prompt – Creative Copy Challenge #494”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    My robots are going to take over the world. But first, I gotta fix the quantum battery in their tiny little brains. Just last week, the maid, Bouncing Betty, started smoking. Apparently, she had forgotten the harm no biologicals rule. The secondhand smoke was killing me.

    So now, I have a dirty house and a ‘bot addicted to nicotine. I’m thinking I should reprogram Betty for yard work. But then, Jee would be redundant. He is optimized for all outdoor work, including serving drinks at my barbecues.

    Hmm, maybe I could swap their virtual hippocampuses (hippocampi?). I bet each would enjoy the liberation from their current, mundane chores. As I consider this, I imagine campy hippos at my party. If they eat the ribs, does that make them cannibals? This is why I need robots.

    I shake my head, trudge into the garage and sit at my standing table. Yes, I have a barstool, as my legs get rubbery after ten minutes. Jotting notes while your feet tingle like sparklers is how you wind up with a chain-smoking robot.

    As I sit and contemplate oneness with creativity, a literal storm of pinwheels and fireworks go off around me. Eureka! Aha! What? This isn’t some Festivity of the Muses: Betty has gotten into my box of nano-rockets. The overhead smoke alarm emits its harsh warbler to wake me from my reverie.

    World domination is going to have to wait until I find the fire extinguisher–and a screwdriver for that pesky ‘bot!

  2. /chet says:

    They was having a big festivity at the mayor’s house that night, but there was no celebrating liberation on our side of town. It’uz just as well. Over here is the only place where the shot-up vets can afford a shack to live in and they all freak out whenever somebody starts up with fireworks. Daddy breaks out in hives and Uncle Frank, he wakes up in the small hours screaming about bouncing betty which I guess is the bitch ‘at took his legs.

    They all voted for the mayor over here ‘cause he said that veterans, theys our most important people. He also made speeches about how we was all the same people, about how that was what made our country the envy of the world and all. His campaign theme was “Oneness,” and he kept saying how we was just as good as anybody and promising to make things better for us. Jobs and a hospital and all like that. But then, after he’s elected, he starts talking about how we all got to jee up and learn to improve ourselves ‘cause govment can’t do everything for you. And the new hospital, it got built over on the river by the convention center and we wound up with the new dump.

    He even passed a law about how you couldn’t play with fireworks less you had a license and guess who can afford those? So there was the big house, up on the hill, and we could see the backyard with all the pinwheels and the rockets and the kids running around swinging sparklers in big circles. I guess they felt they were thoughtful, putting it on that side of house where we could all see them.

    Daddy and Uncle Frank and my mom spent the night down in the basement, watching some T.V. show about song birds with the volume turned way up. They were learning about the warbler when the power died.


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