#writingpromptchallenge

[louisscribbles]

Writing Prompt - Day 1

Writing Prompt – Day 1

I haven’t written on my page for a very long time. I’m surprised it hasn’t gathered dust and become a home to a million spiders.

So, my fellow writers, I’ve decided to try and do a little writing challenge for myself. I’ve started this late. I should have started it from August 1st but honestly, this idea only came to me now. But, I am going to do a 30-day writing prompt challenge.

Each day, I am…

[lolalynndreamurrofficial]

Kyle sat on the end of the bed, where Chris lie sleeping shivering under her blanket. he snuck out of the room, locked the door, and called her cell phone

“are ya sleeping?” he asked inocently. Chris sounded anoyed

“no, i was skydiving. IF COURSE i was sleeping, it’s three in the morning!”

“oh i know what time it is, i just decided to call you from a safe distance, as i figured out how to solve your lady problems.” the phone went silent for what seemed like a minute. Chris broke the silence very sternly

“run”

“oh come on!” Kyle said “you just need to be nicer, you know, less.... you....?”

“run fast, run far. and if you ever think you’re far enough, go farther”

Writing Prompt #6

Person A: *calling Person B* Hey, were you sleeping?

Person B: No, I was skydiving. Of course I was sleeping, it's three in the morning!

Person A: Yes, I know the time. I'm calling because I finally figured out how to solve your lady problems.

Person B: Run.

Person A: Oh, come on. You just need to be nicer, you know, less..... You.

Person B: Run fast, run far.

[bugintheforest]

I've decided to make myself a #starwars #writingpromptchallenge. and I'm looking for your help! each daie I'll look for votes and then write a short snippet based on that character and the writing prompt. so...who do you suggest for no.1? story will be posted tomorrow, kicking off #starwars40thanniversary festivities! 😁

[janetheunicornandherlovebunnies]

Who lives here?⁠ -⁠ I love writing prompts,😍especially photo prompts because there's always something new to discover or connect with in an image. ⁠ -⁠ Bonus tip😁I love using photos for description inspiration. Whether it's the exterior of the houses in a neighborhood (I love describing craftsman houses) or the cool reading nook in your protagonist's bedroom, pictures can help spark your imagination and help you get to know your characters better.⁠ -⁠ Share your character profiles or story ideas in the comments.⁠ -⁠ Want to learn more writing tips and tricks?⁠ Check out the link in bio.⁠ -⁠ #photowriting #writing #photoprompt #amwriting #creativity #ilovewriting #writingprompt #writing #writingcommunity #creativewriting #writingtips #writinginspiration #writersofinstagram #writingchallenge #writer #write #writerscommunity #writingprompts #writingprompt #writingpromptsforfun #creativewritingprompts #writingpromptwednesday #writingpromptschallenge #writingpromptsandtips #writingpromptchallenge #creativewritingprompt #visualwritingprompt #picturewritingprompt #freewritingprompts #imagewritingprompt ⁠ ------------ https://www.instagram.com/p/CRUF2UKL6O4/?utm_medium=tumblr

[litcityblues]

Did a #writingpromptchallenge and wrote a thing. Hope you like it!

[michaela-writes]

Writing Prompt Challenge: Day 01

The sun didn’t come up that morning

The sun didn’t come up this morning. Well, it didn’t for me. Nor yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that … I think.

I can’t actually remember the last time I saw that glowing inferno. It’s like they say, you don’t know you’ll miss something until it’s actually gone – and from my present experience, I can definitely tell you that’s true. Although I can’t tell you how long ago I last saw the sun, it’s definitely out there – I can tell you that much at least, even if I am stuck in a bodily prison of endless night. If the sun had disappeared, then I’m sure there would be a ridiculous amount of panic, and so far there’s been no panic … apart from that one time … but I wasn’t around for that, not really. My family would be pleased to hear that though – it probably wasn’t pretty on their end.

Speaking of my family, there’s always at least one of them about, keeping me company, talking to me so I don’t have to solely listen to the beeping of the machines that are monitoring me, keeping me alive. They keep telling me stories of my childhood, both the good and the bad, but mainly the good. I think it’s helping them more than me by remembering those times. I wish I could laugh along with them, or correct them when they are wrong. But I can’t. Those machines, out there away from the darkness, they might be keeping me alive, but it’s killing me to not be able to reach out and touch them, hug them, or when they hold my hand, just to give theirs a squeeze to reassure them that I’m still here, that I’m listening, that I want to get back to them, even just to see their faces one more time.

In fact, it’s their hope that’s keeping me holding on. They call me a fighter, but how they know that I have no idea, it’s not like I’ve been through anything worse that I’m going through now. They’re just trying to reassure themselves. The doctors have said that there’s a good possibility that I won’t make it, but I do like to prove people wrong. Stubborn, that’s a better word to describe me, not a fighter.

A door creaks open several feet away to my left – they really need to get that oiled – and someone approaches my bed. Judging by the squeaky shoes, it’s the nice nurse, one of the few members of staff that has hope for me, who always chatters about everything and anything as she makes her checks. I have a feeling that she knows I’m listening somewhere in my seemingly empty shell. Today she’s describing in detail the new music video that’s just been released by my favourite band. She must have watched it multiple times from the amount of detail she’s going into, but she tells me that she’s not able to do it justice and that I need to hurry and wake up so we can watch it and discuss it together. It must get boring to have a one-sided conversation. If I wake up, I’ll buy her some new shoes – ones that don’t squeak so much.

My coma senses are tingling, telling me that it’s night time. One of my brothers is fast asleep in the chair beside me, his deep steady breathing reassuring. I hope that chair is comfortable – there hasn’t been a night that I can recall when someone hasn’t succumbed to sleep in it. Nights tend to be boring, so I tend to get some sleep too. Not that my body needs it since the machines are doing the hard work for it. My mind needs the rest though, spending the day in frustration that I’m trapped in this darkness. It’s pretty lonely.

The beeping of the machines and my brother’s breathing fade away as I drift off away to somewhere of my mind’s own making. Here, I can feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, a slight breeze ruffling my hair and the silky sand moving between my wiggling toes. I can taste the salt in the air as the waves lap against the rocks, not quite drowning out the squawks of the parrots hidden amongst the dense jungle.

When I open my eyes, I have to blink against the brightness of the sun, marvelling at the fact that my subconscious can’t think of a better outfit than the hospital gown that I’m presumably wearing back in the real world. This small island is now a too familiar sight – my own personal purgatory. The clear ocean behind me, the lush jungle before me, the uninterrupted sandy beach curving around … and the cave.

You know when you see someone and you just don’t like them because you get an instant sixth sense style bad feeling about them? Well, I feel that with this cave. With good reason may I add. Remember that panic I said about earlier? The last time I stepped foot in that cave, that’s when the panic in the real world happened. But who can blame me for wanting to explore a cave on this beautiful island? So when I did have a look, it instantly didn’t seem like a regular cave – there was a faint light in the darkness, one that was welcoming, and there was the faint smell of the perfume that my mother used to wear. Of course I was going to have a closer look. But then I heard my father shouting. I bolted straight of the cave and headed straight to the ocean. The shouting had been coming from there so I dived straight in. Big mistake. There was so much pain coursing through my body. The shouting was clearer, but the pain was too much and I scrambled back onto dry land where it instantly stopped. In the real world the water is my second home, the pain it caused me here made me feel betrayed, and not eager to return soon.

After that little adventure, it didn’t take me too long to work out what this island is. It’s my choice. Do I go through the tunnel? Do I go into the ocean? Time is patient, it doesn’t care how long I’m here, but is that true for my body, my family, the doctors? How long will it be before they lose hope, accept that I may not be coming back? How long had it been already? Have they secretly lost hope already? It was time – now or never.

I trudge up the beach in a straight line to the cave and stop when I reach its mouth. It wouldn’t hurt to have one more look to help me decide. The light is still there, a glimmer in the darkness. I could swear that it was brighter this time. I take a step into the cave, then another, and another. There’s muffled beeping, like when I hear one of my brother’s alarm clocks going off, his room opposite mine. Voices join the erratic beeping, indistinguishable from each other like children in the playground. I take another step but I’m shoved back by invisible hands, a whiff of familiar perfume lingering in the air. Its meaning clear, I stumble back out of the cave, back into the brightness.

Out here the shouting is clearer. Above the clash of voices, my father is the clearest once again, this time screaming, begging. I’ve never heard him so desperate … and it’s coming from the ocean. No one ever said that this would be easy. To quote the doctors, it was the fight of my life, quite literally. I sprint down to the beach, not slowing as I reached the water, not wanting to bottle out. As inhit the water, there’s a pain in my chest, a rhythmic thumping, and a dull ache everywhere else, but I ignore it, focusing on my swimming. It’s not easy, but I carry on, the voices getting clearer with each stroke, my brothers are also there, shouting at me, almost cheering me on. A wave sweeps me underwater, but that doesn’t matter, I’m still able to breathe, the voices louder and clearer than ever before. I keep going. I have to keep going.

I wasn’t ready before, not to go back, but I am now. I can feel the bed beneath me, the itchy sheets on top of me, the tubes and wires snaking over my body. I can hear the steady beeping of the machines and my family talking around me, saying how close a call that was. My fingers twitch as they try to close around the hand that’s holding mine.

I don’t know what the future’s going to hold for me, but I do know one thing: the sun’s going to come up for me this morning.

@

[thereaderinourstars]

Writing Prompt Challenge

Writing Prompt Challenge Day 1 // August // ‘The sun didn’t come up that morning’

Note: I wrote this a while ago, right now I’m on vacation and this has been in my queue for a few days. (Also; I love the Writing Prompt-idea!)

The sun didn’t come up that morning, at least, not in my world. It sounds ironic, since the shadows under my eyes had started growing and were almost black. I hadn’t slept in days and now the world was punishing me for everything I had done by not letting the sun come up today. It was five a.m. and I didn’t know what to do as soon as I received the message that it had happened. I felt like a zombie when I walked to the bus stop. I had wanted to pick up my car in a few days but the car repair had called and told me it was no use and I could better buy a new one. I breathed in and out and counted the seconds while waiting for the bus. An old man walked by and he reminded me of my grandfather who had walked just like that and who had walked to our house every day before he moves to the other side of the country. To live in peace with ‘his inner self’. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but that’s my grandfather. He was probably on his way here now. My mom called me when I got on the bus. She cried, I heard it in her voice. She was trying to be optimistic and told me to get some pizza on my way. ‘Please mom, no acts, I can’t handle that today.’ I told her and then put my phone back in my pocket. We had known it for three days now, that there was a possibility he wouldn’t make it. My brother and I had lived in the house on our own because my mom had slept next to my dad’s bed in the hospital, like she was trying to make him breathe by talking to him. Nick picked me up at the bus stop and took me in his arms. I saw the tears on his face dripping down slowly, I never saw him cry. I can recall only one memory of him crying, and that was when he was eight and I was seven. He had fallen of the swing while trying to touch the sky and had broken his ankle. Afterwards he had told me that he didn’t cry because of his ankle, but because the sky wasn’t touchable. We walked inside and a nurse told us to go to room 2.86, like we hadn’t been there in the past few days. When we came into the room I could smell it. The cold, the tears, the crying, my dad. My mom was still holding his hands, a heart-breaking sound came from her throat and her face wasn’t recognizable through tears and redness from the crying. My brother fell down in a chair and put his head in his hands and started sobbing along with her. I didn’t know how long I stood there, watching his white face full with stitches and scars. His brown hair was still the same, someone must have washed his face that night because there were no new blood traces.  ‘Emma, come here sweetheart,’ my mom said and she tried to grab my hand. I pulled away. No way I was going to let her comfort me. Not after all this. Not after she cheated on him and ran away for two months with that other guy. And then coming back, acting like nothing happened, only to find him here in the hospital. It was an accident. An accident that happened shortly after mom arrived. After my dad drove away from the porch in total panic because he didn’t know what to do. I had spoken to him minutes before. Told him I loved him more than anyone else and I didn’t want mom to come back. At least, that’s what I wanted to tell him now. All I said then was: ‘You want some cereal?’. Fifteen minutes later he was on the intensive care, while doctors tried to make him breathe again. And now? Now he was… he… I suddenly got the feeling in my legs back and started running. Away from here. The darkness surrounded me even though the sun started shining outside. I ran and ran and ran. Away and away and away. The whole way back to my house, not bothering to jump on a bus or call a cab. I stumbled into the house, finding his room, his little chamber of secrets. I threw the books on the shelves down in rage. Paper cut in my arms everywhere and I didn’t feel it until I saw the scratches and cuts. When all the books where on the floor but one, I picked up the last book and touched the cover with my fingertips. My hands started trembling and my knees gave up. I took my phone and pushed in the buttons carefully, trying not to make a mistake. ‘Hey?’ he said on the other side, probably still in bed. ‘Please come, please, please come’ I said, my voice broke and I cried so hard. ‘Em? Emma, what’s wrong?’ His voice sounded worried and I knew he was jumping out of his bed right now and putting on clothes to get to me as soon as possible. ‘Please..’ was the last thing I could say before I started making a noise I didn’t know I had in me. The guttural sounds that came from my mouth spread through the house and made me feel so so small in this huge world. I crawled on the ground, trying to get to another room but I gave up after I started choking on my sobs. I was suffocating in my own pain. Bran came rushing in a few minutes later, he ran through the front door straight to the library. I started hyperventilating. ‘Bran,’ I cried, ‘Bran, he’s dead. He’s dead.’ His eyes filled with tears and he took me in his arms and rocked back and forth while making soothing noises and crying with me. The sound I made silenced after what seemed like a day and then I was only crying and breathing hard. Breathing. It was impossible. I didn’t know something could be so hard to do. It kept being hard. Even days after I still had problems breathing and remembering I had to. I had to keep breathing, do what my father couldn’t do anymore in the end. It got easier eventually, just like the darkness was fading away a little. The sun never shone as bright as it did before, but came back and wiped away the shadows under my eyes.

Well thank you so much for reading this, I have had ideas in my head for ages and finally wrote something down, so thanks.

[foryouradoration]

I rolled over in the sheets, planning to wake you with a kiss Or two...or three... Instead I greeted a hand scrawled note stained with a tear Or two...or three... "I tried," the scrawl read. "I wanted this to work. But we're on a different path." Or two...or three... I rolled back over and looked outside, the once bright morning resembled a nightmare Or two...or three... I wanted no part of my misery and neither did the sun

[hunting-the-grievers]

August Writing Prompt Challenge: The Sun Didn't Come Up That Morning

1st August: The Sun Didn't Come Up That Morning The sun didn't come up that morning, it didn't rise. In fact I rose instead, I rose from the dead. I clawed my way up onto the old clumpy soil and peered down at what was left of my coffin. It wasn't much, a few planks of wood beginning to decay, the odd rusty nail here and there, not exactly luxurious for such a permanent destination. For most anyway. I picked the dirt out of my nails as I waited, I'd waited four hundred and twenty one years for this moment, another few moments wouldn't hurt. Not that much hurts the dead. I waited a little while longer and it began. The poor poor citizens of Earth had lost their precious sun to me. And they were only just realising it. The birds tweeted in jerked intervals, confused as to where their orange conductor had gone. My gowns were practically shreds but I didn't care, because I had no pulse, my heart still didn't beat, and yet I was standing. If I could help it, the sun would never rise again.

[omg-so-unique]

August 1st Writing Prompt Challenge

It took me forever to debate over posting this or not, but here it is.

August 1st: The sun didn’t come up that morning

              Arryn had woken up late that morning, rushing out of her bed so she could hopefully get to the bus stop before it left her. She had just walked out the door and down the sidewalk when she realized one thing was different. The sun wasn’t in the sky. It wasn’t in its usual position that it would be every morning. She stopped mid-step and turned in a circle, her head bent upwards to the sky. She was trying to comprehend what was going on. She shook her head and started walking once again. Had last night been daylight  savings time? Well not that she knew of. Usually she’d have twenty or so people tell her that she’d need to set her clock whichever way.  There were a few cars out, and she didn’t know why they weren’t panicking. The sun is the main thing they need on earth to survive. Without it, all the plants will die in a matter of days, leading to the animals to soon die. One by one on the food chain.  After that, all that’s left to die would be them. Of course, the human race would probably have a couple months with the food they had gotten already. But that didn’t mean anything, everyone would soon rise in panic at what was happening and chaos would happen.  She got to her bus stop to see it empty, no kids were standing by it , no usually person walking their dog was passing through like always. Maybe people were panicking and decided not to send their kids to school. That could be a logical answer. But then why were the few people that were driving around not panicking? Did they see nothing wrong? The sun wasn’t in the sky, how could they not notice that. She sighed in frustration and started her walk back to her house. Maybe her mother was up and would be panicking, or  ignoring it like she would do anything else. When Arryn got to her house, she slowly walked inside to see her mom just getting up. That’s weird, she’s usually the first up.

        "Mom?“ She asked, leaning against the counter behind where her mom was making coffee.

        She watched the older woman visibly jump at the sound of Arryn’s voice and turn around, giving the girl a confused look.

        "Why are you up ?” Her mom asked.

        "What do you mean why am I up? It was 7 when I left the house to get to the bus. For some reason my alarm didn’t go off. Did you realize that the sun isn’t in the sky? Why aren’t you panicking? Mom? What’s going on?“ She rambled on, her mother giving her an even more confused look.

         "Arryn, honey, what are you talking about? Its still 5 in the morning, darling ” Her mother said to her.

        Now Arryn was the one that was beyond confused.

        "Wait what? No it isn’t. My alarm clock - “ She said, but soon was cut short when her mom pointed over to the stove.

         She gaped at the green numbers that were shining back at her. What? No. That couldn’t be right.. She then grabbed her phone from her back pocket and turned it on.  Maybe someone tampered with the stove clock. When her phone finally turned on, she groaned and rubbed her face as she looked at the numbers telling the time.  5:26 am.  That was what the numbers told her it was, giving her the conclusion that  her clock was the one to be tampered with. The sun had gone up that morning, maybe not at the time, but wait an hour and there it was. Peeking through the trees in her back yard. As she walked to the bus for the second time that day she watched as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, giving them light and many more things that people don’t realize could be gone in seconds.

[louisscribbles]

Writing Prompt - Day 1

Writing Prompt – Day 1

I haven’t written on my page for a very long time. I’m surprised it hasn’t gathered dust and become a home to a million spiders.

So, my fellow writers, I’ve decided to try and do a little writing challenge for myself. I’ve started this late. I should have started it from August 1st but honestly, this idea only came to me now. But, I am going to do a 30-day writing prompt challenge.

Each day, I am…

[lolalynndreamurrofficial]

they stood at attention, the ice slowly cracking around them.

“don’t worry” Layla said in an attempt to comfort Nora “I’m smart, you’re semi-smart, i’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out”

Nora glared at Layla, before she snapped her fingers, and lied on the ground dispersing her weight.

Writing Prompt #7

"I'm smart, you're semi-smart, I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out."

[janetheunicornandherlovebunnies]

Everyone has a story. What's yours?⁠ -⁠ It's time for another photo prompt😀 woot woot!⁠ This time we're switching it up a bit😁 we're doing objects this week. We attach meaning to objects and that meaning can tell some really great intimate stories about existence and what it means to be a person in the world. ⁠ -⁠ Book Recommendation Time 📚🎆: One of my favorite books that reflects on objects and their meaning in our lives is Remember Ben Clayton by Stephen Harrigan. It has a slower pace, but the journey is well worth the wait as life and the meaning we attach to the objects in our lives doesn't happen overnight. ⁠ -⁠ I love taking objects and building a life around them ❤️.⁠ So that's your mission for this week. Find the life in these mugs and feel free to share the lives you discover with us in the comments.⁠ -⁠ #photowriting #writing #photoprompt #amwriting #creativity #ilovewriting #writingprompt #writing #writingcommunity #creativewriting #writingtips #writinginspiration #writersofinstagram #writingchallenge #writer #write #writerscommunity #writingprompts #writingprompt #writingpromptsforfun #creativewritingprompts #writingpromptwednesday #writingpromptschallenge #writingpromptsandtips #writingpromptchallenge #creativewritingprompt #visualwritingprompt #picturewritingprompt #imagewritingprompt #bookrecommendations⁠ ------------ https://www.instagram.com/p/CRjkwYUhOD6/?utm_medium=tumblr

[lolalynndreamurrofficial]

“you know, you are never gonna get a girl with that ego of yours” Chris said to Nash. he looked appalled at what she had just said.

“she has a point you know” Nora said putting one hand on his shoulder “a rude point, but, a point nonetheless”

Writing Prompt #5

"S/he has a point. A rude point, but a point nonetheless."

[bugintheforest]

todaie's #starwars #writingpromptchallenge star - #bobafett! read it here - https://goo.gl/V4Lv8m got a suggestion for the next one? send it my way!

[thereaderinourstars]

Writing Prompt Challenge

Writing Prompt Challenge Day 5 // August // Describe the feeling of love

L O V E

A strange word, isn’t it? It’s four letters that mean a lot more than you sometimes expect. Four letters that are sometimes too tricky to use because you’re afraid to scare someone away. Although I’ve never experienced ‘love’ myself, I do know something about falling and being in love, which is sometimes even trickier than love itself, the side effects are awful. The feeling of the butterflies in you belly may be great, butt you get the blushing and stuttering and trying to make an impression too, for free! Free is not always good, I can tell you that. Being in love means standing in front of the mirror twenty minutes extra and taking a shower every day and being so self conscious all the time. And then there’s your friends who totally know you are falling in love from the first moment they see you talking to him/her or who see you watching him/her without a reason. You can say that sucks, but friends are there to help you, so being scared of telling your friends is ridiculous. Of course they are going to make stupid jokes and are going to be superobvious around him, but they will help you when you need them? Love seems pretty annoying the way I tell you.

But well, of course love has great sides. Being in love is a thing you won’t forget for a looong time. The feeling is so… inexplicable. Everyone will experience it in a different way. But you must know that every time he/she looks at you, your belly starts glowing, like the butterflies were actually firebreathing dragons. These are very nice firebreathing dragons, they won’t burn you from the inside out, even though it feels like that sometimes. Also the heat will find a way out, through your cheeks or ears or wherever you blush. And sometimes, when you touch him/her on his/her arm there is heat there too. The dragons will find a way out eventually.  And I’ll tell you about your heart too, which is the most dangerous part of your body. As soon as the dragons find their way over there, and make your heart warm with their fire, you know you’re hooked. But that feeling, the slowly spreading warmth from your belly to the rest of your body and your heart? That is what being in love feels like

Well that was a lot of nonsense but I liked writing it and thanks for reading anyway!!