Writing Prompt – Creative Copy Challenge #501
Posted: September 12, 2017 Filed under: Uncategorized 32 CommentsThis 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
I am sorry for my sporadic absence… this time of year is difficult for me and mine.
- Kidnap
- Parole
- Secure
- Fear
- Free
- Consequences
- Residual
- Backlash
- Disappointment
- Uncaring
Marcus had luck so bad, rabbits bit off their own paws to donate. The day he received parole for jay-walking, his mama slapped his newly free behind for cursing at the ice cream man. He woke up seven days from last Sunday, dazed, confused and filled with fear. He squinted at the streetlights, strange markings and indecipherable signposts.
“Who would want to kidnap little old adorable me?” Marcus had no idea he had been smacked to the future. His throbbing head and blurred vision–consequences of the maternal thrashing (about which he had no recollection)–had a residual effect on his psyche: he had forgotten what a disappointment of a human being he was.
Secure in his uncaring demeanor, old Marcus had always acted impulsively. New Marcus was the victim of this backlash: he wandered aimlessly about, trying to make sense of his surroundings.
Finding his way home proved to be impossible. When his vision finally cleared, he discovered that all the signposts read, “Welcome to Kingdom Come!”
Mitch ~ What a great opening. It makes me want to see how bad is luck is. Oh wait, you cleaver funny man… …rabbits bit off their own paws to donate… LOL
Thank you Mitch. You have given me a breath of encouraging, fresh, joy filled air.
Oh how I have missed having the courage to come here and relax. That is now changing.
Bravo son.
Write On,
Kathleen
While I understand, Kathleen, I miss you, too. Don’t be skeert, it’s just us chickens.
Cheers,
Mitch
Hugs to you Mitch and all here to allow me to hid when I need to.
But I am tired of the desire to hide so much. I need to be back here on a regular basis. It’s not like I haven’t started responses to the challenges LOL.
I must Write On… myself.
Hugs,
Kathleen
Love your website, May I share it?
By all means YES! We are here to have a good time with words and learn from each other. The more the merrier.
I look forward to seeing more from you,
Kathleen
LOL opening. 😀 Mama’s powerful to slap him into the future. 😉
Yep, she sure was. LOL.
My Momma was sent to the state prison. It was a sad day for the family, after all Uncle Buck had just secured his parole. Momma was always the disappointment in the family. She kidnapped some chicken (they were young chickens) from Walmart and got caught. There had been a great deal of backlash from the family cause Uncle Buck had already gotten the grill hot. She only got 90 days in the po po house for that stunt.
Momma is a good woman but most folks see her as uncaring, especially down at the food stamp office. I fear that momma will never be free from jail this time. The residual consequences of her latest failures at petty crime cost her two years in the state prison. Everybody told her it was not a good idea to rob that Wendy’s, after all, they only had $25.00 in the register.
Patricia Saunders
Welcome aboard Miss Patricia! I am glad you were able to follow the link and join us here!
You had me laughin’ at … Uncle Buck had already gotten the grill hot…
and then the laughing stayed with me with the kidnapping of chicken! and the … food stamp office… </em? reference. You had me right up to the end.
I am really looking forward to seeing more from you.
Write On,
Kathleen
Welcome, Patricia! I’m glad to someone else taking a light-hearted stance with these words.
Cheers,
Mitch
Mitch ~~ are you expecting me not to… :]
Kathleen
I love humor in writing. Even in the darkest drama a little humor helps move the story.
Love it, Patricia! What’s a Momma to do? 😉
Sarah stared at the frayed rope encircling her wrists. She tried to hide her fear from the madman standing over her crumpled form. Edgar Spence, his face had been plastered over all the local t.v. stations announcing his escape a week after his parole hearing. She had no illusions of her situation. A convicted kidnapper and rapist had her at his mercy. Sarah considered her few options and the consequences of each. Fighting is out of the question, he enjoyed overpowering her as the residual smears of blood across her mouth could attest. One possible solution occurred to her as he crouched to make sure her bindings were secure. Rape was about power, she could free herself from being the victim. She steeled herself to look directly in his eyes, uncaring for the moment of the potential backlash of her actions. Disappointment colored her voice as she spoke, “I had hoped that we were beyond these childish games.”
Michelle Blagg
Welcome to the fold Miss Michelle, I am glad you decided to join us!
Wow you open up strong and grabbed this reader in right away. Oh the braveness it must take for your character.
I look forward to seeing more from you.
Write On,
Kathleen
Hi Michelle, and welcome to the CCC!
This dark vignette manages to offer a ray of hope to readers…we’re wondering, waiting…for next week? 😉
Cheers,
Mitch
I like the idea of continuing…let’s see what next week brings!
heh-heh. You are now fully assimilated…that was easier than I expected. Many of us have written multi-week “Episodes”. Some have turned into complete stories, novelettes and even first drafts.
Have fun!
Cheers,
Mitch
Go get ’em, Sarah! Well done, Michelle. I want to read more. 🙂
There are consequences to your choices the old man always said and in the backlash over his arrest, I could see that they weren’t always what you expected. I don’t know who learned more from it: him or me.
We grew up with a full bucket of fear in that house, my cousin and me. There was no telling when the old man was going to wup you nor why. It wasn’t that he was a drunkard or anything, and I won’t stand here and claim he was uncaring even if you all expect me to do it. No, it was more than he had such high standards and his disappointment was so complete when he felt you had failed to live them out that his punishment exhibited no gradations. Maybe you didn’t completely comb your hair in the morning or maybe you didn’t study enough for a test or maybe you tried to kidnap a neighbor’s dog or shoot it. You spent the night outside in the cold, or you got nothing to eat but oatmeal or you got your hair all cut off so you looked like you was bald and all the kids laughed at you in school the next day. And if you showed any residual spunk after, well that was the only time he would take down the razor strop and say “Since you’re such a sharp one, let’s make you a little sharper.”
We didn’t intend anything bad to happen. We just had to do something so we could secure our liberty and finally live free. That’s a real American thing to do, isn’t it? Overthrow a tyrannical government. Like in the Declaration of Independence? Or the Bill of Rights or something? We didn’t know about his crazy allergies or any of those other health troubles. We were just kids and he always made himself seem pretty darned indestructible to us.
I know now that there was other ways I could’ve chosen but back then I didn’t know. So if the Board can see it in your hearts to grant us parole, I think my cousin and me, we can go back and do right by the man, in his dotage and all.
Chet, you rocked those words. Got me wanting to know more about the family and the crime.
Cheers,
Mitch
Chet, Chet, Chet ~~ what did the boys do? I love the dialog-esk tellin’ of this piece.
Makes me wonder if there could be more of this story in yah!
Write On,
Kathleen
“Look atcha,” Billy Bob said as he kicked at Joe Bob’s booted foot. “Yah look like a kidnappin’ there all tucked in.”
Joe Bob woke with a fright. His teddy bear dislodged from its secure spot – cradled in Joe Bob’s arms tight up against his chest. Fear began to fill Joe Bob’s mind at the possible consequences of having his older brother catching him napping while he was waited for him.
Darn, did he caught me with Mr. Snuggles… again, Joe Bob thought as he stretched, leaving Mr. Snuggles on the cot behind his back. Putting his feet on the floor he kept his head down waiting for the backlash.
“Bbbbbooooooyyyyyyy you sure is a disappointment to me…” the older said.
Oh, here it comes, Joe Bob thought.
“…No coffee, no cake?”
Joe Bob smiled as he lifted his head. Breathing a sigh of relief as he parole d himself from the non-punishment.
“No. No. We ain’t uncarin’ Billy Bob!” Joe Bob said sticking his bottom lip out; it was a well learned family pouting trait. “I figured it was gonna be too hot fir coffee by the time you got back from gator huntin’, Billy Bob, sos I made yah so sweet tea and momma sent me down here with our favorite cake,” Job Bob said pointing to the lopsided two layered cake. “It’s right behind yah. Have yerself a look-see. It’s, it’s on the counter. Momma even wrapped it up tight so them rats don’t get to it.” He lowered his gaze to the floor. “I knows how you love yer pets Billy Bob, but wes didn’t want ‘em getting to yer cake ‘fore you does; with it bein’ your day to celebrate momma’s 36 hours of labor and all with yah.”
Billy Bob turned toward the counter and saw the cake momma had made. Well, I guess she’s not mad at me for going huntin’ last night, instead of rubbing her feet. Bet she’s gonna like that gator I’s got me last night. Maybe some good soup and a purse for ‘er can come out of it, he thought.
“Thanks Joe Bob,” he said with a sniffle. “It’s real nice of yah’ll to do this fur me. And it’s darn right nice to see a cake free of the residual footprints of the critters.”
From someone who is faaaar more sporadic than you, Kathleen, no apologies necessary. Wishing you and your loved ones comfort and peace. When I saw these words, I knew I had to participate. ☺
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What did he hope to achieve? Her family was not rich. She was nothing special. Why kidnap a preteen with so little means? Why jeopardize his freedom for an act that was so senseless?
Margo had heard him arguing on the phone. That is when she learned of his parole. The woman on the other ended screamed so loudly that Margo did not have to strain to hear. She used words that would have Margo grounded for a week. Right now, grounding sounded divine. At least she would be home.
Margo struggled against the restraints, but the bindings remained secure. A lone tear trickled down her face as she fought against the fear threatening to overwhelm her. Would she ever get free?
Her heart beat so fast, Margo worried he would surely hear it. She had to get away before he hung up the phone. The consequences of being caught were less frightening than giving up. If she could work her bound hands around her legs, she might have a chance.
Never had she been so grateful to her gymnastics coach for his unrelenting discipline. With muscles screaming over the sound of labored breathing, Margo rocked from side to side, wishing for longer arms. The residual strain of repetitive routines on the uneven bars paled in comparison to what she felt now.
Suddenly, like a whip’s backlash, her bound wrists snapped over the rise of her feet. Margo worked furiously on the plastic ties encircling her feet. Her frightened soul smothered the disappointment of not being able to shout out loud upon their release. But, she could not silence her horrified gasp when she heard him slam the phone down in a fit of rage.
Uncaring about the sheer asininity, Margo launched her body through the bedroom window. Shattered glass fell like falling snow as her body bounced down a winding path of weeds and rocks, coming to rest in a ravine far below her prison’s walls. A terrified mind slapped her awake to the sound of her enraged predator.
“Run,” it screamed, “for God’s sake, run.”
ack – forgot to close the bold tag after “fear.”
and hands – not hand. 😡
Hi Cathy,
Trust me, the bold and typo did not register through the stark fear evoked by this vignette! (But, after little Margo got away, she logged into the ‘net and fixed it–gratitude for her narrow escape.)
Cheers,
Mitch
😀 So that’s what Margo did after her escape. Thanks to her and you, Mitch! 😉
Hello Cathy ~ It is good to see you here as well! (Thanks for the loving understanding. I should write another “Mind-full Conversation” to bring all up to date.)
The story read real from the other account I listened to attentively. I love that your character escaped too.
Write On,
Kathleen
Hugs to you, Kathleen. Sorry, I’m not better at visiting. I do love this place. ☺
Oh Miss Cathy,
We are blessed when you get the chance to visit and play a while. I totally understand the busy life gettin’ in our way.
Hugs,
Kathleen