Digital drum roll, please ...
With the 100th post in the e-bag, let’s start off the next Promptly century right—with your writing prompts, submitted in response to the 100th prompt.
To strip out my personal bias (I figure you get enough of that on a thrice weekly basis), I turned the prompts over to a fellow WD editor to pick a top entry to run in the July/August 2010 issue of Writer’s Digest magazine.
Ultimately, she chose Mark James' entry (he'll also nab a subscription or renewal to the magazine), which appears below, followed by the other prompts in response to the post.
Thanks again to everyone who contributed, and here’s to the next 100!
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WRITING PROMPTS: Your Prompts
Feel free to take the following prompts home or post your response to any of them (500 words or fewer, funny, sad or stirring) in the Comments section below. By posting, you’ll be automatically entered in our occasional around-the-office swag drawings. If you’re having trouble with the captcha code sticking, e-mail your story to me at firstname.lastname@example.org, with “Promptly” in the subject line, and I’ll make sure it gets up.
You're Satan's confessor. Write his first confession in a thousand
(By Mark James)
A beautiful woman arrives at the funeral wearing bright red shoes, where everyone else is dressed in somber clothing.
You're on an elevator that suddenly shudders to a stop between floors. In the elevator with you are the UPS man, a young man with glasses dressed in a business suit, and a very pregnant lady.
Earth is rocked to its core by an onslaught of pounding thunder. Bolts of lightning rain down from the skies, illuminating the darkest of nights. Storm clouds blot out any and all traces of the stars.
Zeus is angry.
Womb dreams are the best. Well, I don’t have anything with which to compare them, but from what the Caregivers say, they are sublimely better than postnatal dreams.
You're walking quickly along a busy sidewalk, dodging people, late for work, when you pass through a slow moving crowd, all eyeing a homeless man who is passionately shouting and kicking a parking meter. You roll your eyes, attempting to push past when the man shouts your name. You turn to see that he is merely addressing the meter, but something in the way he spoke your name makes you stop. "So this is what has become of my ex-husband," you think to yourself.
Seamus O’ Hanrahan stood on the deck of his ship and looked out over the water, watching as the orange fingers of flame turned to red in the darkening twilight. They navigated by the path of the sun during the day, and by the stars at night, but sunrise and sunset were outside of time. They spoke of the eternal, the never ending, the time and place outside of time and place. These were the times when seafaring men knew the size and strength of the vast ocean.
(By Kim Kennedy)
A little girl was walking down the street, wearing a red dress, and looking for something. She asked the first person that she met, "Have you seen my _______?"
(By Paula )
"If the lion's sleeping tonight, and the moon's in Aquarius, that must mean you're here to . . . "
(By Mark James)
You are 22 years old and have just graduated college with no job prospects. Over the last semester you discovered your true passion in another major. It is too late to turn back and you are now out of money. The only jobs available are those in retail, fast-food, and manual labor. A Bachelor's degree just isn't enough anymore.
(By Nathan Honoré)
The combination of stale air spiked with a jolt of eucalyptus greeted her nose. "Is this it?"
She sighed and sank to the floor. This couldn't be it.
(By Martha W.)
You walk into your apartment just in time to catch your cat on the phone saying, "Dude, it's gonna be WILD!" The cat looks at you. You look at your cat. And then the cat says, "So I guess we'd better talk."
(By Khara E. House)
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