Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge – #577

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.

1. Misunderstood
2. Pressured
3. Restrained
4. Inferior
5. Affectionate
6. Awkward
7. Comfortable
8. Confused
9. Envious
10. Masculine

7 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge – #577”

  1. Anklebuster says:

    Debra misunderstood Michael’s signal. This resulted in an awkward sequence of confused bidding that left Debra with a contract to make a Grand Slam with an inferior hand.
    The East-West opponents already had a comfortable lead, thanks to a well-played 3 No-trump contract. Debra felt pressured to play her hand perfectly.

    Michael splayed the dummy hand and sat back with an affectionate smile, as if he had presented her with the keys to the kingdom. Debra winced. No amount of finessing would help her win all of the tricks. She restrained herself from throwing her cards on the table. In that moment, she was envious of the men who played poker in the next room. There, the testosterone contributed to a healthy, masculine atmosphere where it was okay to slam one’s fist on the table and curse the luck of the cards.

    She timidly lead with the queen of hearts.

  2. stormwriter2 says:

    Jenna entered the therapist’s waiting room timidly, feeling a little out of place and diffident. She would have edged over to the rather MASCULINE armchair by the window but the receptionist’s cheery, “Are you a new patient?” RESTRAINED that impulse and propelled her to the counter. There, waiting for her, was the intake packet she was obviously expected to fill out.
    “You’re Jane, right?” The receptionist queried.
    “Yes,” said Jenna.
    “Here’s the paperwork. You don’t have to fill out everything. Just the highlighted sections.”
    Jenna took the clipboard and strode over to the COMFORTABLE-looking armchair. She quickly filled in the highlighted sections in her beautifully singular script. Then she fluidly rose and returned the forms to the receptionist.
    “I’m CONFUSED,” said the woman—Natalie, according to the nameplate on the counter.
    “Yes,” she said with a flinty glare. “You filled in the information for Jenna Waller.”
    “Yes. That’s me.”
    “Then why did you say your name is Jane?”
    I had thought she got my name wrong and I hate correcting people. I couldn’t tell her that though.
    “You must have MISUNDERSTOOD me,” I said softly.
    “I don’t think so,” she said.
    This was really getting AWKWARD. What was the big deal anyway?
    “I asked if your name is Jane and you said yes,” she persisted.
    “Then apparently I misunderstood you,” I mumbled, feeling INFERIOR to this assertive woman, this Natalie.
    “You just ruined the only copy I have of Jane’s paperwork, which is significantly less involved than yours.”
    I was ENVIOUS of this Jane, whose simplistic paperwork I had defiled, apparently irrevocably.
    I felt PRESSURED to apologize, so I scoffed and said, “Well, I’m sorry, but I wasn’t the fool who gave out the only copy of something so important! I’m here for therapy, not some headache!”
    The look she gave me in response was shockingly AFFECTIONATE. I stopped speaking, my mouth slightly open in confusion.
    She laughed and said, “Jenna, aren’t you here to learn to stand up for yourself?”
    I nodded.
    “Well, I think you’ve had your first breakthrough.”
    “So, this was all a set up to make me yell at you?”
    “Call it whatever you want, Jenna. But call me Dr. Liversidge.”
    “You’re not the receptionist?”
    “I’m my own receptionist.”

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