Gone Fishing

{Scene opens on the sound of the timer of the $20 Mr. Coffee pot’s tinny, tiny, sub-audible eh-eh-eh.}

(Main Character [ thinking])
The day is sped up. Locked in a fast-forward button press.
I’ve experienced this before, this time around I’m inclined to record it in some kind of way.
{The house is completely quiet; the evening has made its presence known. Our Main Character has chosen to leave the lights off.}

(Main Character) {opening the drawer in the bedside table.}
“What else is there to do? Besides written word is more believable than the verbal.”

(Main Character [thinking])
I’m also relieving myself of vices for no apparent reason.
This, I think is some kind of conditioning that I’ve ran across, maybe some commercial, billboard, or verbiage. My time of fun is over I think. I don’t know, I know that there is still much to see.
{A doorknob turns, and a door is gently opened in the distance…. the kitchen perhaps.}

(Main Character)
” I have to be careful with my words only for the fact they will be read by someone else. People these days tend to make much outta nothing…. a train of thought that is carried out to it’s matter-of-fact ludicrous conclusion, a simple thought experiment.”
{Sharp and confidently placed footsteps…. new shoes.}

(Main Character [thinking])
I’m starting to feel like my self again. What is that anyway?
Is it independence, the absence of vulnerability? My cloak of anonymity is my security, my piece of mind, my sanity even.
{The footsteps have stopped. Gentle top of table scrapes…. a few seconds later a subtle, but solid “putting back” knock…. the footsteps resume…. this way.}
When did this happen to me? Old age has been a demanding companion, never leaving my thoughts as I plead with him to be kind…. only in secret though.
I picture myself in the very near future in many places, seeking new things, new experiences, wearing sunglasses for Christ’s sake.
Enjoying social content. Using the universe as my loudspeaker; I’m glossing over the intimate details because this is to be a light-hearted retirement.
Yes. I’ve said the word.

(Main Character)
“Retirement. I retire. Pass the baton, close the curtain and leave the stage. I cannot say that it has been fun, you see I have the inability to live in the moment, only the past and future, the present is only a resting point in between.”
{the footsteps have stopped. They are at the door now, the shadow can be seen underneath the door, dress shoes on a shiny wooden floor.}

By Grissom

Writing Prompts 04.28.18

53. Tear-Jerker: Watch a movie that makes you cry. Write a poem about that scene in the movie.

54. Dear Diary: Write a poem or short story about a diary entry you’ve read or imagined.

55. Holding Hands: The first time you held someone’s hand.

Writing Prompt 04.21.18 – Post Card


Setting: Jersey City in the late 1800s
Lone woman pushes a stroller up the street.
Man leans in to give baby a kiss.
Woman: “Damnit, I know he is cute. But please keep your immigrant germs off my child.”

“Ahhh!”

“Oh God!”

Woman: “Damnit, George. Not again.”
The woman looks back to find her son gripping another man’s nose firmly with his teeth. Blood quirts in every direction. The child gnaws away with glee and squeals with delight as the man frantically tries to shake him off. The woman grabs her son by the feet and gives a little tickle before the child releases the man’s nose. The child looks at his mother, with excitement in his eyes, sharp teeth protruding from under his blood-stained upper lip. The woman presses her son’s face to her chest and quickly scurries away.

By Phil Force

Writing Prompt 04.21.18 – Post Card


The experts say, as children, we form a large percent of how our minds work. Thus our parents are instrumental in helping us form our senses of right and wrong – but also our senses of humor. My parents traveled a lot, or so it seemed. When my parents where home, or it was time for a vacation, my father always came up with something to do no one else would think of. This helped form my sometimes dark sense of humor. This year it was female gator wrestling. What a trip!

By John Whalen

Writing Prompts 04.07.18

47. Light Switch: Write about coming out of the dark and seeing the light.

48. The Stars: Take inspiration from a night sky. Or, write about a time when “the stars aligned” in your horoscope.

49. Joke Poem: What did the wall say to the other wall? Meet ya at the corner! Hahaha.

Insult (Response to Writing Prompts 04.01.18)

When I am insulted, I feel stupid, like people do not want to be my friend. I feel as though I’m in that place I do not want to be and can’t leave. The atmosphere makes it so hard to breathe. You go and sit by yourself and want to cry and sometimes, you lay down and did. So I keep God in mind. And think a lot over things lost inside.

By Rose

Mirror (Response to Writing Prompts 04.01.18)

Mirror Mirror, I ask you why is the town upset and talking about me. They are worrying about you. They think that someone is going to kidnap you and take you far away and that you will never be seen or heard from again. Be careful in the city, because some people are talking about you. They are talking about running you out of town. They say things like people don’t want you here. Do not hide off in a corner. But set down net somewhere so you can get a grip on yourself.

By Rose

Writing Prompts (04.01.18)

44. Insult: Write about being insulted. How do you feel? Why do you think the other person insulted you?

45. Mirror, Mirror: What if you mirror started talking to you? What might the mirror say?

46. Dirty: Write a poem about getting covered in mud.

Responses