A Game of Reactions

Have you ever played the party game Catchphrase? Very basically, you are given a word or phrase—usually a person, place or thing—and you have to describe it without saying the word or phrase itself. Typically, hilarity and excitement ensues. Plus, it’s a nice way for writers and other introverted people (like myself) who may not otherwise be interested in interacting with other humans to socialize.

Anyway, this week’s prompt requires you to write around a concept much like you would in a game of Catchphrase, using a character’s response to it.

Writing Prompt: Describe one or more characters’ reactions to something (an item or an occurrence) without explaining what it is. See if your fellow prompt responders can guess what it is or what is happening.


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101 thoughts on “A Game of Reactions

  1. M_Jane_M13

    “Shut up.”
    “I didn’t say anything.”
    “I don’t care.”
    “I told you not to do it.”
    “I told you to shut up.”
    “Your in pain. do you need ice.”
    “I have a hole in my stomach.”

  2. M_Jane_M13

    “Shut up.”
    “I didn’t say anything.”
    “I don’t care.”
    “I told you not to do it.”
    “I told you to shut up.”
    “Your in pain. do you need ice.”
    “I have a hole in my stomach.”

  3. facelessone

    The wife immediately shrieked! Her hands rose to her mouth in terror. “Oooohhh No! Get this thing away from me!” She shouted with plea to her husband who was in the other room. He came dashing around the corner, faster than Sonic the Hedgehog to examine what was the cause of his wife’s murderous scream.

    The wife saw her husband and with some relief said, “Look!” She pointed to the cause of her dismay. The wretched thing, with its grotesque appearance.

    The husband saw what she was terrified of and laughed playfully in his wife’s terror. He grabbed a plastic cup from his cupboard and slapped the cup against the wall with great agility. He managed to capture and contain the wild beast before it did any more damage by crawling along the kitchen wall with its repulsive legs. The husband turned the cup around to make sure he did indeed capture the beast, and there it was. A frightened creature, clinging to the side of the cup, in a distressed terror of its own.

    As soon as it laid its eyes on the grotesque, giant, fleshy alien-like creature it scurried around the cup. Desperately looking for an exit, but to no avail. It began to panic as it saw the piercing eyes, terrifying white fangs, and its long, fleshy claws.

    His wife was still standing on top of the chair in a defensive position when she shouted at her husband, “Take that thing outside or kill it this instant!” He listened to his wife and walked out of the kitchen. Once he fully made his exit with the menacing creature, the wife safely returned her feet to the floor, dusted her apron off with her two hands and murmured to herself, “I pray that God takes away those filthy no good pests.”

    The husband opened up the door and walked out until he reached the grass. He squatted down and turned over the cup to release the beast. The beast dashed in the opposite direction of the menacing giant, his anguish dissipated once he was out of the giant’s line of sight.

    The husband walked back into the kitchen and reassured his wife that the creature is gone and out of her life. She replied “It better be, or I am calling an exterminator.”

  4. Krysta Breanne

    It seemed to be another day in the manor, alive with productivity as everyone bustled around — staff busying themselves with tasks such as cleaning or preparing meals for later in the evening. This included dear prince Auberon, currently in the lounge speaking with Raymond — a hunter for the clan. The two had been discussing new strategies for collecting game when a rush of footsteps could be heard dashing down the halls, interrupting their discussion as the source drew near at a rapid pace.
    Even if one was not able to see the spontaneous appearance, such as Auberon, it was nowhere near difficult to figure out who it was — Ingram. Despite having little need for oxygen, the vampire was found on his knees panting like a wild dog who had run for miles, seemingly exhausted from his journey. The prince couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his friend’s exasperation, soon turning a heel to face the melodramatic redhead before him.
    “What is it?” he sighed, face unamused as his one bleary eye glared at his best friend.
    “Look, look!” Ingram exclaimed, a triumphant smile on his face as he got up and scrambled to meet his friend. There was something in his hand; dark and small, it almost seemed to be of a box-like shape — but it was hard to tell with his poor vision. Soon enough the contraption was shoved into his hand, and a smooth and glossy texture pressed against his palm. To him, it felt like something polished, but the true object was still an anomaly. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he continued to prod around at the item, soon finding a crevice that resulted in the device flicking open, startling him into a jump.
    “What exactly is this?” Auberon asked, his voice hard like steel. The prince’s eyes glanced at his friend to see him shrug before returning to the strange thing in his hand, eyes becoming still in concentration. He must have hit something, though, as a loud beep that ached his head resonated soon after, followed by a bright light. A hiss couldn’t help but escape his grimacing face, already displeased with whatever Ingram had found. That had crossed the line; whatever it was, he was done with it. Pushing the object back into his companion’s direction, Auberon grabbed his cane as he walked away, not looking back as he remained focused on his handheld guide.
    “Wait — what?! Where are you going?!” A shout was heard behind him, only causing the slightest shake of his head.
    “I don’t like it, you deal with it.” That was the only answer given before the prince turned to the hall, abandoning the puzzled boy without another word.

  5. Writinglove

    There was that awkward, tense silence that is always there when this happens.
    Tina gasped and tears started flowing down her cheeks.
    “Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
    Gabe sighed with relief and put it on her.
    Tina threw her arms around Gabe.
    “I thought you’d never ask!” She cried tears of happiness.
    Gabe stood there awkwardly with a grin on his face. Was she overreacting? He could never tell with girls.

  6. johncamm

    I REALLY TRIED HARD TO MAKE THIS A GOOD ONE. HAVE NOT WRITTEN ANYTHING IN A WHILE SO HERE GOES. KEEP AN OPEN MIND…

    He could feel the cold against his face as he pulled her close to him. He loved the way she felt; tucked in his shoulder, his fingers sliding down until they found their rightful place. He has done this with her a hundred times or more, but he still got butterflies. He began to slow his breathing.
    His hands shaking with anticipation as he grabbed her more firmly. He could not get wrapped up in his own emotion, this was business. He could not help it though, no matter the time or place he never felt more powerful. More alive. He had to blink a few times to fix his gaze. He looked down her long slender frame. He could see her, she was in his field of vision, but he looked past her as if she wasn’t even there. He slowed his breathing.
    In and out he regulated his breathing… in and out… In. and out.
    It took nothing more than a thumb to get her ready and the tip of his forefinger to make her explode. Just the tiniest bit of meat, half a nails worth at the best, and the right amount of pressure would ignite the fire within her.
    In. and out. He found the rhythm he needed and closed one eye; keeping an eye on her but looking past her still. Looking into the faces of the demons that he did not yet know would haunt him for all his years.
    In. and out. In… and out…
    At the natural pause between breaths he would make his move.
    At that natural pause where you are neither inhaling or exhaling or holding your breath is when he would make her come alive.
    In… and out. In…
    He squeezed her. As expected she jumped back into his arm.
    …out.
    Mission accomplished

  7. ChristiB76

    You feel it, don’t you? There is no way I am the only one who feels this need. I can almost sense those around me who have already been sated. They stroll by with satisfied smiles or recline seeming all too pleased. I can’t help but feel my rising jealously as I wait my turn. Why do I have to wait so long? Have I not earned an earlier place? I suppose that we all have to wait our turn but I am on the verge of breaking.
    I cannot wait any longer. I move to my friend and ask to please be allowed to move with her. She moves me in and I instantly feel a modicum of relief. I am a few steps closer to the end of this daily torment. My needs are almost fulfilled!
    We move a few more paces, pause for a minute, then move a few more. The cycle repeats. I am growing more and more impatient. My friend reads my pained expression and attempts to soothe me. We both know that it is not that easy. There is only one way to stop the agony.
    After what seemed to be hours, but I learned were mere minutes, I finally arrive and take my due. The world is now safe from my potential rage and inevitable irritability. Until tomorrow that is.

  8. jayak20

    The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky a hue of orange and purple. it was a nice contrast to pink and yellow tulips breaking from their bulbs on the ground. There was a light breeze as soft clouds floated by. The weather was perfect for an evening stroll. A small boy was running in circles while his mother was trying her best to be close to him. A young man, beaming with pride and carrying two balloons which said “Its a boy” and “Its a girl” was walking towards the hospital entrance. She enjoyed looking at life outside the window. The sun had done its work today and given hope and life to many on the Earth. Now it was time for it to rest. She looked away from the window and at the bed. It seemed to tell a similar story.

  9. Quill7

    “Wait, I have to put them together, how?”

    “Oh, like that.”

    “How does that make sense?”

    “Sounds? What?”

    “Now you’re just confusing me.”

    “Aaah oohh ooo lll…”

    “How’s that?”

    “I’m trying here!”

    “Okay,”

    “Better?”

    “Thanks.”

    “Let me go from the beginning.”

    “Yes! I did it!”

    “You’re a great teacher.”

  10. Moirai-TQ

    You want me to do what?

    OK, I’m all wet now. What’s next?

    Soap? Why do I need soap?

    OK, now that makes sense.

    Start from the top? Top of what?

    OK, I’ve done that. What’s next?

    OK. Where do I put my foot? In your …?

    No, you know I was just joking. Is it safe?

    OK, I’ve done that.

    OK. Drag it across my skin? OK. How far do I go? How hard do I press?

    How often will I need to do this?

    OMG Really? That often? Sheesh. Can’t I just rip them out?

    That’s for when I’m older? How old? Do you do that?

    No? Oh, it’s too expensive? OK.

    Now my other leg? OK. Is this like wash, rinse, repeat?

  11. lucy

    I opened the door slowly, huh thats a little weird it’s unlocked. I walked throughout the entire house and saw no one. I can always come back another time, or I could stay here i’m sure she won’t mind. I sat down on the couch and started playing flappy bird on my phone. Then I hear the front door open and I start to get excited, I get up to walk to the door to greet her when I see her against the wall with a huge man pressed against her I walk up to them and look at them both up and down and then walk into the bedroom but I don’t walk into it alone.

  12. TisIJustAGuy

    The Pit

    We spend longer than we like driving around the neighborhood looking for the correct building. The nervous excitement radiating off of all three of us is palpable in the interior of the car. Who could blame us? It’s been three months since the last time we did this, the first time we did this. We were eager to reclaim that pure unbridled adrenaline rush that, at least for now, only existed in our memories. The area feels vaguely industrial, a lot of rusted metal adorning old brick and mortar buildings. The buildings themselves were covered with everything from the simple tags of the local street artists to full intricate murals done by professionals. All of it standing in stark contrast to the neon signs advertising the local restaurants and bars that were slowly twinkling on one by one as the sun began to lower towards the horizon. My stomach instinctively growled at the thought of food, reminding me I forgot to eat lunch. “Probably not a good idea to have come here on an empty stomach.” I think to myself. Finally, We find a place to park and make our way, past all the neon signs, to a rapidly forming line outside a dark club with a jet black canopy stretching from its entrance to the sidewalk. “Just a few minutes til they start letting people in.” One of my friends says to me. That same nervous energy now floating off of everyone in line, filling the air with a tangible feeling of excitement. Finally the line begins to move forward as the security inspects each patron making sure they were legit, marking certain ones as the moved through the entrance. “This is it, guys!” I lean forward to my friends and say excitedly. “It’s about time.” One of them quips back. We were all itching to get the night started.

    A forearm suddenly collides with my face, smashing my glasses into the bridge of my nose, for a split second everything spins and the deafening noise of the club is drowned out by the ringing in my own ears. The pain almost nulls the feeling of all the other bodies in the club throwing themselves against me, elbows, hips, more forearms, most only grazing me but a few making full contact, pushing me into even more waiting bodies. One misplaced kick sends me down to one knee, followed up by a hip to the face that sends me careening onto my back and the cold concrete floor. No sooner than when I hit the ground do I feel multiple hands descend upon me, grabbing at clothing, searching my body for some kind of purchase. When they’ve found it I’m hosited off the floor and back onto my feet before I’m shoved once again into the wall of bodies. Thankfully, I regained enough of my higher functions to make my way to a spot where I could be afforded a brief respite. It was only a few more seconds til the pain was gone and my vision cleared enough for me to see. Not that I could see much; the club was all but pitch black, the only light emanating from the raised area at the back corner of the club, where several young men stood. Watching from back here they seemed to be gods of their own domain. Every word that escaped their lips seemed to control the writhing mass of bodies that undulated in the sea of darkness below them. Every rhythmic chant they produce is repeated back to them from the crowd. I want to join in with my voice, given that my body has seemingly reached its limit, but find it hard to make any vocalizations. As if on cue, a hand thrust a plastic cup filled with water towards me. The foggy condensation collected on the outside of the cup informing me of its icy temperature. After finishing off the beverage, I look up to see my friend, I can’t make out many of his features in the darkened room, but I can tell one thing, he seems to be as tired as I am. We sit drinking more water; just making idle conversation. Turns out our 3 companion was made of tougher stuff than us, he was still in the pit, still rolling around in the waves of thrashing bodies. It isn’t long before my friend has decided to give it another go, he gives me an inquisitive look, but I just shake my head. “I think I’m done.” I say, hoping he heard me over the crowd. He nods in response and once again walks into the sea of darkness. “Tougher stuff than me, that’s for sure.” I muse to myself.

    We take our sweet time as we walk back to where we parked. The cool night air doing a lot for our aching bodies, the sweat soaking our clothes and skin rapidly cooling for a much welcome relief. At one point we stop to look back at the club and the crowd slowly dispersing out of it, and although we wouldn’t admit it to give our legs a rest. The other two talk amongst themselves, mainly about how well they fared in the pit. I refrain from joining in the conversation, not only was I in the pit the least out of all of us, but my breathing is still too shallow for conversation. Slowly we make it back to the car, making more conversation about the night and its events, as soon as we get moving the rhythmic movement of the car, and relative comfort of the seat begin to pull at my exhausted body, weighing down my eyelids and bringing me to a well earned state of rest. Last thing I can remember thinking to myself is “It was a fun night.”

          1. TisIJustAGuy

            It was a Pop Punk/Post Hardcore concert, I went to a couple months back with some friends. The Moshpits at these concerts get pretty crazy sometimes.

            And thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it.

  13. ShamelessHack

    “Gosh darn it, I ain’t been able to tell but one meal from t’other since we left Cheyenne. Ppfffppfp.”
    “Phsssss. Yup, I reckon I’d say the same. Cookie ain’t eggsackly what one would call a world-class chef, eh? Braaaatt.”
    “Phoooot. Har har, yew are really a card, Jake. Nope, all he knows how to cook up is the usual. This. Ffffffft.”
    “Whew, and these must be old. They do taste on the moldy side, I’d say. “HhhhhSSStttt.”
    “Ptptptptttt. Land a Goshen, I’m just gonna up and take my plate over yonder into the woods. I cain’t stand this not a minute longer. Bubbbubbbubbbb.”
    “Prappppp. Fwzingggg. Brtttttttt. Fwizzzz. BRAAAAAATTTTTTTTT.”

    Stay tuned to this Writers Digest forum for more “True Legends of the Old West”.
    Thank you.

        1. Kerry Charlton

          Holly TarT Frat. You get going and there’s no way you’re going to fart on Writer’s Digest page.
          Let’s see if this makes it through.

  14. Big Tastey

    Arg stood up and stretched. It was just before sunrise in the pre-dawn of history and his fire had gone out, leaving his cave cold and damp. His neighbor, a man named Bub, was good about keeping his fire lit. Arg would have to go over to his place later that day and borrow some.

    As he stepped outside of his cave, Arg saw a sight so gigantic and threatening that it made him drop down into a crouch with his bone knife clutched tightly in his hand. Whatever dumped that on his doorstep must have been an enormous beast. Images of giant saber teeth and razor sharp claws came to his mind. In a voice shaking with fear Arg shouted-

    “Bub, Bub, BUB!”

    Bub ran out of his cave and he, too, dropped down into a crouch. His eyes looked wildly around in search of the source of the stench. Together, Bub and Arg howled out a warning to the others-

    “AaaaaOoooooooooooHhhhhhh!”

    Soon others arrived, including a man named Eeer who had gorgeous, silky, black hair. Clearly, this man was their leader. Eeer calmed everyone down with a flurry of hand gestures. Then Eeer gestured to Arg to pick it up. Arg shook his head vigorously “No” with a scrunched up face like a child when they’re told to eat their vegetables. Eeer gestured more forcibly with his ‘don’t make me come over there’ gesture. Arg had no choice. He bent over and picked it up. Eeer gestured again-

    “Well?”

    Arg’s eyes began to water as he nodded his head “Yes.”

    Eeer gestured for Arg to smell it. A big whiff, not just a little one, because Eeer wanted to be sure. Arg had the look of a doomed man as he took a deep breath. He started turning green and his knees shook. Eeer gestured-

    “Well?”

    Arg, woozy on his feet, nodded “Yes”.

    Eeer still wasn’t satisfied. He gestured to Arg with a great flourishing sweep of moving his hand to his open mouth for Arg to taste it.

    Arg’s eyes grew in size and he started backing away but he was cornered. He knew he had to taste it. He hoped it wouldn’t taste as bad as the little white bugs that he once found under a rotting tree.

    He closed his eyes and took a big bite. Eeer gestured-

    “Well?”

    Arg started crying as he nodded his head “Yes”.

    “OooooWoooooooo!” Eeer howled and gestured as he showed everyone the bottoms of his feet-

    “Good thing we didn’t step in it.”

  15. Kerry Charlton

    A GAME OF REACTIONS

    “Sit down Mr. Tremble, you’re as white as a ghost.That’s bertter, would you like a glass of cool water? What was that?

    You asked if I had any Old Crow lying around” Oh I doubt it, Why do you feel you need a drink? What’s that, you’re afraid you’re going to weep. That’s better but why are you hugging me so tight? Guy to guy, it’s kind of creepy. That’s more llike it Mr. Tremble hands off okay? I understand, ‘you took this crumby job because you’re poor and broke.

    Now why do you think you need to blame your mother? Only ‘Patsy’s’ blame their Mother.for their problems. You want to hit me now? Oh bercause you think I’m a wimp of a doctor, try it and I’ll break every bone in your body. Oh. mean am I , well you started it. Forget your Mother, let’s discuss your job.

    Yes, I do understand, you hated the work and you didn’t realize what a danger you would place yourself in. But it doesn’t sound scary to me, just teaching them.. Monsters are they? I doubt it. Okay if you insist, I’ll look at a picure of one of your students. Wow, she’s pretty and sweet looking. She’s not? Can you explain it?”

    There you go again Tremble, quit hugging me. Why didn’t you hug your student? Oh I forgot about that. Only fourteen? Jail bait? Yes I do understand Trem. You don’t mind being called Trem do you.? Oh you do? What;s your first nemes? Francis? Who calls you Francis? Oh back to your Mother again, well what is your middle name? Archibald, oh good grief, get used to Trem.

    Where are you going? You still have fifteen minutes. Oh, now you’re crying again. Would it help to talk about your student. What is her name? ‘Delicious’ is not a name, it means tasty. S it down Trem. Put the chair down, you are not to break my window and jump out. You want to talk about uh, Delicious. Yes, okay, she got in the driver seat and you asked her to back out of the driveway, what happened? She did, wow, the expression is put the petal ty the metal.

    Did she hit anything? No? It was a mifracle you say. Well, what happdened next?
    She did, she ran four of them in a row.? And the sirens started, all three? What did yoy do? You did? You jumped out? How fast ? Fifty five. Were you hurt? Two weeks there and four in rehab. And you walk funny. Well you look like you ought to walk funny, relax.

    Well Trem, your hour is finished. If I were you, I look for anothrer job Times up.

    No No, cdrtainly not Uber.”

    . This story is a tribute to Bob Newhart. “The Driver Teacher”

  16. creaturescry

    It was the unknown, a vast expanse of something that no one knew about. So why do I know about it? Because I am a something. A thing that’s nearly understandable, but at the same time something completely new. A contradiction to what you may already know. I am tall and short, silent yet violent, beautiful or ugly. I am what I am: a thing who has no labels. I am the only of my kind as far as I know, a droplet of water in the desert, I am alone. Sitting here in the darkest corner of the unknown, waiting to be found.

    “What is that?” A beam of light cut through the fog that clung to the Unknown, “is it moving?”

    “Don’t know, It almost looks familiar,” another beam of light crossed over the other, “Lets go that way.”

    “No, I want a closer look at that thing.”

    “Alright, but then we go my way.”

    The beams of light approached with quick jiggling movements, like fireflies in the darkest night. But when they stopped just a few paces away from me they froze and glared at me with their yellow light. I didn’t knew yellow could be an angry color. I was intrigued by these angry yellow lights, it was so strange to a unknown like myself.

    “Its so intricate, “ the first beam of light said, “like an old painting.”

    “Intricate? Like an old painting?” the other scoffed, “you must be blind, it’s rather simple.”

    “Don’t you see those swirls, and the things that almost look like flowers?”

    “Which are just overgrown warts.”

    “Well aren’t you two a lovely bunch,” I chirped, beaming all over with excitement, “I am all the things you have said.”

    “You can’t be all,” the second beam laughed, “ you are one or the other, you can’t be both.”

    “But I am all, I am everything and nothing, The beginning and the end, the light and the dark.”

    “What are you really?”

    I shifted in my corner and eased my way closer to them so I could whisper,“That’s for you to find out and for me to forget.”

  17. writer_sk

    I used to have you. I used to use you though I could not claim you as my own. I thought I could never achieve your ultimate goal but through your calculated actions, you showed me I could.

    On a dark, cold, autumn night I went to you. I found you warm, but not too warm. I shed my shoes and socks upon entering the place where you live. But you aren’t imprisoned there. Though it wasn’t for me, some invite you into their homes.

    I returned to you again and again. Your essence could be summoned with my breath. How could something so calm be so powerful? You helped me see myself in a positive light. You made me strong.

    I went to you when I felt the summer breeze on my neck and wanted to stay outside grilling in the yard, because I knew you’d heal me of an unbeknownst ailment.

    I experienced you each week. A rainy night brought me to you with back pain. You showed me the way.

    When I lacked you I gave in to fear. When I lacked you I gave in to anger. When I lacked you I gave in to sadness.

    When I used you I rose up. When I used you I accepted my fear and did things anyway. When I used you I resisted anger and pushed it onto the pages of my journal. When I used you, I allowed myself sadness and processed it.

    I returned to you in times of joy. I returned to you in times of loss. I returned to you so often you became part of me. Your greetings of the sun in the sky became my favorite gift to receive.

    Once I arrived to find your door closed and locked, your warmth gone. I was disappointed but I knew you lived inside me. I could summon you if I needed your tenets.

    At the end of you, I rested. I covered myself with your blanket and closed my eyes.

    I returned to other places you lived in years to come but it was never the same you. I wished I took the trip to Costa Rica with you but I hadn’t the money and you hadn’t yet taught me not to let fear decide.

    As I write this I know you wait to welcome me again to your arms to show my body the way, show my spirit the way, strengthen my mind and relax my brain. Thank you.

          1. Kerry Charlton

            I’m not a fan of yoga but my wife is. And that’s just the point. Your descriptive verse was dead on and I don’t have to tell you but I do believe women are far stronger than men in more ways than I can count. I did my part, I have five daughters and eleven granddaughters. I am well trained. .

  18. Turtles 2.0

    Hello everyone! Long time no see! It’s nice to be back here. Some of you may not remember me but my username was turtles87 or turtles88. If you don’t remember me, then that’s fine! I hope I did the prompt right and any form of friendly criticism is much appreciated. //

    The cold kitchen tile shocked my bare feet, signaling me that I was awake. But I was not awake.

    I lean on the kitchen counter using my elbows as support and thoroughly rub the crust from out of my eyes. They were clean but not open.

    A faint morning glow flooded the kitchen, painting the walls with a pale yellow light. The window near the sink was partially opened, allowing a cold breeze to sweep in. The air smelled clean, like sharp pine and damp bark. An aftermath scent from the early rainshower that occured the night before.

    Opening the cabinet I look over the food contents until I stop on one thing in particular. Or should I say two things. Bringing them down, I begin to work with caution and care so as to not make a mess. For what I had was very delicate and plentiful. One wrong move while transitioning it from here to there could be disastrous.

    I close the lid and press the button. And wait. It is just us, alone. One of us was growling and groaning while the other was silent. Silently feigning. Wishing for it to hush and be still.

    It did. It always does. Right before I give in to sleeps comforting grip, it hushes, telling me it’s ready.

    I take more things down from the cabinet along with a spoon from the drawer. With everything set and done, I curl my hands around its warm waist and welcome its morning delight.

  19. RafTriesToWrite

    I like this guy, you know?
    But not like-like, you get me?
    He’s funny, energetic and a very good cook, which is also his job!
    He likes to fish sometimes and LOVES water. He loves it so much that it’s like he can’t live without it, even for like a minute!
    His skin color is peculiar. Yellowish, but he’s not sick or anything. Kids love him though and he has this eerie laugh that somehow amuses me. I can’t tell why.
    He has other friends, but they’re nothing alike – physically.
    His boss is so cheap that he gets paid like, way below than what he should earn, which is kinda sad, but he always tells everyone that he loves his job, that’s why he doesn’t want to leave. Heck, he’d even do it for free! That’s how much he loves his job.
    He has two neighbors, one of them is his best friend and the other is his super mega extra special best friend. He sometimes goes fishing with the latter as well.
    They like to do things together a lot too. Like, hang out in restaurants, go to the mall, sell chocolates, go to the lagoon or do some random adventures.
    I wish I had that kind of super mega extra special best friend in my life.
    —–
    This is an easy one.

    1. writer_sk

      Raf- I liked this! I went to the movie “Finding Nemo” but I can’t guess it! I haven’t guessed any of these yet.

      Good descriptions and pace though.

  20. Denise G. Monello

    We apprehensively enjoyed the warm summer breeze resting on the dock. We watched as unknown boaters passed by with a hearty wave. Droplets of water dripped into the bay from the glass bottle holding my Margarita. My eyes focused on the ripples spreading across the bay.

    “It’s over Bea–it’s been almost two hours,” Lonny stated sipping on his beer. “It’ll be alright now. They’re gone.”

    I shrugged my sunburned shoulders and anxiously answered, “I hope they’re all dead.” I closed my eyes tightly as I remembered the sight.

    “Hey, Bea, I said it’s over. They won’t be back again. I promise,” he said tenderly placing his cold beer bottle on my fiery shoulder. “I took care of them.”

    “But what if they do come back?”

    “I’ll take care of it again–no worries.”

    The swans paddled up to our dangling feet in search of a treat. “Unless you want some Margarita–swim somewhere else,” I grumbled.

    “Hey don’t take it out on the swans. They’re innocent–it’s what they do,” Lonny laughed.

    “I know, you’re right. I shouldn’t take it on the stupid swans. Sorry swans. I still have no food.” I watched as they swam off.

    Being innocent–unaware of what’s going on around you. Does innocence excuse action? Does doing what you only know to do, give justification for destroying one’s peace? Well, innocent or not they turned my world upside down, and they’ll pay with their lives for it.

    “I’m getting another beer. You want another drink?” Lonny asked as he reached into the cooler?

    “I’m good. I’m calm now.”

    I remember the overwhelming fear that rose in my body when I saw them. They didn’t see me, so I went full blown UFC on them. I jumped, screamed and flailed. I didn’t want them near me–touching me–touching my things. I had to get away–had to get rid of them–not knowing what to grab for protection–I had to kill them. I panicked. I ran out.

    My sudden appearance dumbfounded Lonny. I was disheveled, grasping at my hair and screaming. “What the heck?” he screamed. “What happened?”

    “I hate them,” I howled. “I thought they were gone–Lonny–please help me.”

    “Oh, gosh, Bea, of course, I’ll help you. I can’t stand seeing you like this–you have to calm down.”

    That’s when he got me a margarita, settled me on the dock and went about making a plan to help me. Only he needed my cooperation–needed me to go back–needed me to be patient. I fought him desperately. I didn’t want to go back–I couldn’t. I knew they would be waiting for me. He spoke reason into my discombobulated brain, and I followed his lead. We were cautious, but we were able to set the trap for them. Lonny said they would fall for it–they don’t know anything else but to fall for it. I believed him.

      1. Denise G. Monello

        Ants! I had an invasion of them right before writing the prompt! Only there was no Lonny, swans or dock–just a margarita after I went UFC on them. Hack, good call on the “Monello’s!”

  21. rlk67

    He stood like a wobbly doll. His head was swimming. Arms stiffly stretched out in front, he almost crushed the objects in each hand. He couldn’t take it much longer. There had to an end, a resolution.
    Suddenly, one leg totally gave in, and almost smashing his patella, he let out a mouse-like squeal.

    “___________________?” he said, almost inaudibly.

    [Any guesses? Too easy?]

    1. RafTriesToWrite

      A zombie came to mind when I read the first clue, but as I read on, my confidence on my answer began to falter. I’m stumped!
      Perhaps the others have a better guess than what I did.
      Hmmm. What gives out a mouse-like squeal other than a mouse itself?

    2. rlk67

      “W-w-will y-you m-m-marry me? P-p-please?”

      She reached down, taking the ring from one of his hands and the flowers from the other, not sure whether to laugh or to cry.

      “Yes. I would love to be your wife.”

      He collapsed with relief not felt by any other human in the history of the world.

      [This type of thing does turn some men into zombies, Raf.]

  22. ReathaThomasOakley

    A Marge and Arlee Story

    “Arlee?”

    “Yes, Dear?” Arlee lowered the newspaper and smiled at his wife standing arms akimbo in front of his recliner.

    “What should I do?” She begged. “I’m at my wit’s end.”

    “Well, Marge,” he hesitated. He’d been vaguely aware of her voice, like soft background music, or gently falling spring rain, for some time. But, he’d been considering ways to tell Gary he’d miss Wednesday night choir practice. The Nuggets and the Timber Wolves game had to be watched.

    “I think,” he cleared his throat, tried to recall a phrase or even a word from what she’d been saying. “It seems to me,” he started again, “seems to me you have all the facts straight. Right?” He carefully folded the sports section, relieved when she nodded.

    “That’s what I keep thinking,” Marge sat on the edge of her chair and rubbed her forehead, a sure sign she was frustrated. “But, I just don’t know.”

    “Um, Dear, let’s give this some thought,” Arlee rubbed his forehead. “I’d say you have two options.”

    “Oh,” Marge laughed, “I’d say more like three. That’s why it’s so difficult to decide.”

    “Well, in some ways that should make it easier,” he pushed the recliner to the upright position and reached for Marge’s hands. “Why don’t you just eliminate one option at a time, until you have only one left.”

    “Oh, Arlee, that’s a wonderful idea. Let me think.” She closed her eyes. “That first idea was very silly, wasn’t it?”

    “Uh, yes,” Arlee agreed.

    “And, the last one just wouldn’t work, would it?”

    “Uh, no.”

    “Oh, Arlee!” she exclaimed after a few minutes, “you were right, that’s the perfect thing to do. Thank you.” Marge stood, kissed Arlee on his bald spot, and hurried out of the room.

    Arlee opened the paper and was congratulating himself on learning a few tricks in nearly fifty years of marriage when Marge rushed back into the den.

    “Dear, I need to change my clothes, so would you please call the children and tell them what we’ve decided? I’m so excited, I can hardly wait for their reactions!”

    1. Denise G. Monello

      I was first taken by the word “akimbo.” I haven’t seen/or heard that word in a long time! I agree with Raf–sounds like she’s going somewhere–and it’s not a common occurrence. Her being there makes some difference–and maybe she’s going to do something out of the ordinary. The three options are throwing me. I do hope you tell us at some point! I just loved the story.

    2. writer_sk

      Hmm it seems like he wasn’t listening to Marge initially and just pretended to know what options she was considering.

      Sounds like they’re going to visit their kids but I wouldn’t mind a marge and Arlee part 2

  23. creaturescry

    “That is weird….” I said, feeling my stomach churn, “my titanium stomach may have met its match.”

    I stood there, paralysed with shock, my mind drawing a blank. I was too absorbed by my own emotions that I didn’t even hear my sister Maxine waltz in with her music blaring from her headphones. It took her shrieking in my ear to finally wake me up inside and snap out of it. I jolted and grabbed the thing nearest to me like it was Jesus christ, which was Maxine. When she finally stopped her shrieking she glared at me and shrugged me off.

    “What’s wrong with you Ellie,” she snapped, “and why do you look so freaked out?”

    “So you didn’t see that?” I asked, my eyes bulging.

    “See wha…..oh man that is gross, and it stinks like crap! It’s all lumpy too…ugh, I’m gonna barf.”

    “So you weren’t shrieking about that?”

    “I was singing, god you are stupid.”

    ”So who do you think put that there?”

    “I dunno, Its too large for one person to carry,” She said, her eyes on her phone.

    “It’s a….whatever it is and you’re on your phone?”

    Maxine didn’t even answer and chuckled at something on her phone. The world could have been ending and she would still be standing there with her face glued to her phone. So I did the responsible thing and kept my eye on the thing for any new…developments. It did look a little larger after all, which didn’t even seem possible considering what I thought it was. Then I saw something that made me Shriek like Maxine’s singing voice.

    “IT’S BREATHING!” I shouted, running for my life,”AND IT HAS TEETH!”

    “Oooh, I got a new follower,” was all Maxine said as the thing loomed over her, “cool.”

    1. RafTriesToWrite

      Ah, the classic “too busy to care about the world because I’m on my phone” type of girl.
      What kind of monstrosity was that anyway? I’m thinking of the big stinky blob monster from the scooby doo series.
      But that has no teeth so, I’m stumped on this one as well!

  24. Pete

    Ray walked into his house, weary and dragging. It had been nearly a full of hotels and airports, seminars and flight delays. He set his computer bag in the chair in the computer bag chair in the kitchen and went for the fridge. On the phone last night, Glenda had said something about a surprise, and Ray had been thinking about her homemade chocolate cake ever since. Only it was nowhere to be found.

    “Is that you, Ray?”

    Hearing footsteps, Ray glanced over his shoulder. “Honey, what’s the big surpri—holy guacamole!”
    Ray’s wife struck a pose. “I hope you like them.”

    Ray took in his wife, more specifically, the two enormous jugs at her chest. “Like them? I…I mean, how did you, I mean, yes!”

    Glenda giggled. “I thought you would.”

    Ray turned around, leaving the fridge door open and beeping incessantly for his attention. But it was a wast of time, chocolate cake just couldn’t compete. “Babe, this is…I mean, are those for me? Wow!”

    Glenda spun around. She wandered out of the room with her jugs. Ray followed behind, to the living room, a smear of saliva on his lips.

    Glenda made a show of the jugs. “Yes, for you, I suppose. But it was fun.”

    “Fun?”

    “Yeah. I took a few classes and learned about the process.”

    “You took, a class? I thought you just went in, and…boom.”

    “Typical. But no. A lot of work went into these.”

    “Maybe I should go out of town more often,” Ray chimed, scooting closer. He leaned in and kissed his wife on the neck.

    Glenda smiled. “Well, I had the free time, with you being gone. So I just did it.”

    “I had no idea.”

    “Well, getting your attention can be tricky. Well,” she laughed, thrusting her jugs into Ray’s chest. “Maybe not so tricky anymore.”

    Ray stood panting, mesmerized by this woman and her talents. His wife had outdone herself, and he was struck by a hunger in his loins. The hotels, the airport, the…jugs. Ray realized he was one very fortunate man.

    “Well,” Glenda purred. “Should we try them out?”

    Ray the bobble doll. “Yes please.”

    Glenda shook her head. “The look on your face, Ray. It’s been a while.”

    And it had been a while. Since Ray and Glenda had done anything of the sort. And as Ray took one of his wife’s jugs, he knew he’d never want to leave home again.

    A woman who made a find chocolate cake and brewed her own beer. Now that, Ray thought, was something special.

  25. JRSimmang

    VILLAINS OF OUR OWN MAKING

    Soft mornings. There are too few of them nowadays. Should I even try to count them?
    Would be pointless.

    Was a time once when I was just like the sunshine though the window. Splintered so that I was soft around the edges, splash of gold and peach, and I was warm and vibrant, and occasionally I would craft an illuminated spectacle, a refraction, and my face would be the face of wonder.

    But, now, there it is.

    There it is on a cold winter day.

    And, we’re the only two things in this kitchen.

    I and it.

    Are all power struggles two sided, or do we create our villains out of some twisted desire to have opposition? If we were to stand unopposed, would we be inconsolable? Do we need a villain?

    I do.

    Always have.

    Father? You’re still seated with me, your claw hand grasping onto the steak knife, fumbling with your business casual tie, shaking at my mother for wanting to help. You had it all under control, didn’t you, even your temper.

    Even your temper.

    You’ve made a mess of things, you have. You and your shiny coating, you and your porcelain white assurances.

    You shake and rattle, and on you are letters so massive that the world has buckled under them. And, you’re… what? What are you other than a placebo? Should my faith be placed in the small of you?

    You’re not heavy, though, are you? It’s simple to raise you to my mouth to kiss you, and for a moment I feel holy.

    But only for a moment.

    You’re the worst and best of me.

    Father.

    You and your hand. You and your creation. You and me.

    Even in the dead of winter, there is a thin sliver of sunlight. Ironic it breaks on you. Must be a moving cloud. Yes. Must be.

    -JR Simmang

    1. writer_sk

      JR, hi! how are you? Beautiful piece. The writing is so poetic and metaphorical.

      I’ve read it twice. Thought it was a cup of coffee or maybe booze. A tv? A blender? The steak knife and “large words” written on it threw me off. You should use this for an assignment for your students.

      Nice to read you though. Haven’t had too much time to write myself.

      1. JRSimmang

        Sarah, hey! It’s testing season at school, and it’s no joke for the teachers either! I’ve been nonstop for two weeks, and being able to scribble this down was some much needed R&R. I like the prompt as an idea for the kids; I think they’d just wind up thinking “just when we thought Mr Simmang couldn’t get any weirder…”

        Thanks for the read. Keep guessing! You’re so close!

  26. ikhan928

    My stomach burns. I double over in pain pressing on it in the hopes that it will contain the daggers that feel as though they are pushing through me. My breathing comes in short bursts. I can just about see clearly, the text on the monitor in front of me begins to blur at the edges. Sweat beads on my forehead and I feel it tickle me as gravity does its work. The lack of oxygen is making me light headed…vision getting worse. ‘Am I dying?’ the thought fixes itself in my mind and I wish I had told my wife and son that I loved them more often…their faces fill my mind and it brings a relief that is short-lived. The pain starts again, reaching a crescendo. I don’t think I can take it anymore.

    BANG.

    A loud noise like a clap of thunder. Relief.

    ‘Oh…whoops.’

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