Writing Prompt first and last line

Writing prompt :  first line:  It was a dark and stormy night

                            ;ast line: and there was much rejoicing.

It was a dak and stormy night.  In fact, it was the darkest and stormiest night ever recorded at the National Weather Service.  The darkness was so dense it hung like listless black velvet drapes on old mansion windows. The darkness enveloped the space like a tomb. The air was so dank and dark you could cut it with a cheese knife or butter knife if you were so inclined. 

Althea picked up a jewel-toned butter knife from the tray that held corn bread cut preciecly into 2 1/2 inch squares.  She poured buttermilk from a silver urn into a sparkling goblet handed one to Reginald then pour one for herself.

The lights suddenly flickered then went out.  All was blackness.  Lightening crashed, the upstairs maid screamed as a gust of wind blew the storm outside inside.  When the lights flickered back on, the corn bread and buttermilk had disappeared and so had Althea.

Amy stopped reading and lay down the manuscript and looked  around the room expectantly.

"Well, how do you like my first attempt at writing a novel?"

Amy's guests looked one to the other but said nothing.

"I have more but I don't think I'll share it just now"  Amy said studying each face .

Suddenly, everyone began cheer and clap at the same time and there was much rejoicing.

Writing Prompt: ending with (And that was that)

Writing Prompt:  Ending with  (And that was that)

I took out my yellow pad and began to write. I wrote ever fury, every injustice, every red hot shard of anger. I wrote until angry turned to sadness and sadness turned to tears. Then as always, I tore the letter into a million pieces. And that was that.

Writing Propmt Dialog

Deborah Hare Combo prompt for 7/26/2016:
Dialog only with the last line of
"Okay, but why did you tell me all of this?"

"Okay, it's the monster bit again?"
"So, you agree to help me?"
"Okay", is not agreeing. I asked you a question and I ask you again. It's the monster thing again?"
"Yes, but he's real this time. I know it!"
"Okay, so this monster, like before, looks like a huge snake with fangs that drip blood and you cover your head and scream and scream? Sounds like a pigment to me."
"You mean figment?"
"No, pigment! I was thinking about flying pigs and how impossible this all is."
"What do you want me to do? You need to call your shrink?"
"I can't, he's not taking my calls anymore. You're the only person who can help me. Please say, you will."
"No, I won't do it. You know I'm not into monster hunting anymore."
"Well, just stay and watch a vid with me."
"No BOO! You always want to watch the same one. You have to stop watching yourself on tv!"
"I got chocolate pecan pie and that vanilla ice cream you like. Please say okay."
"Okay, but why did you tell me all of this?"



not exactly the wY i WANTED BUT TIME IS PRESSING.

Writing Prompt : Potpourri

Writing Prompt potpourri

clothesline  
chocolate bar
elf
hypothermia
scamper
insinuate
feces
frog

I poured my one and only allowed cup of coffe into my favorite M&M mug added a dribble of skim milk and wondered if I could find a larger cup to use that might  still  be considered a"one cup" in measure.  I opened the silverware drawer to get a teaspoon and there it was-a clothesline neatly knotted into a hangman's noose.

 This nifty noose choking a knife, fork and spoon was supposed to remind me that food was killing me.

"You put the "die" in diabetic. the Doc insinuate(d).  Use this noose as a tool."

Feces! pure feces!

Yes, he suggested  think of sweets as ... you may well guess- another tool.

I smiled to myself remembering the chocolate bar tool buried underneath the frozen veggies in the freezer.

This is the same Doc that told me to  "hop" up on the table. I'm surprised he didn't sugest I "scamper" down the hall.

I need a new Doc.

The frog clock above the range croaked out six croaks.  Why did I have a frog clock in my kitchen?  I wish I could say it was a gift but no, it was me-all me.
Anyway, six croaks meant the morning paper had arrived.

The Headlines today were priceless.

NORTH POLE ELF DIES FROM HYPOTHERMIA

Have I told You About My 3-Pound Tomato?

Writing Picture Prompt

one pic was a chocolate cale with cherries on top. The other was a tomato.


I looked again at the photo on my fridge and smiled. I smiled every single time I looked at it. The photo was an old woman wearing at blue-checked dress and gardening hat. She was grinning up at the camera. The hand-written caption below boasted, ":Have I told you about my 3 pound tomato?" Yes, the answer was. Yes, many, many times. This sweet lady was afflicted with Altzheimers. The tomato story was one of her "loops". She always carried tomato photos in a small album and I admired them too -often. I miss her.

Writing Prompt: They were at a crossroads and either option would be detrimental

Writing Prompt:They were at a crossroads and either option would be detrimental

They were at a crossroads and either option would be detrimental. There was the yellow woods road that diverged into shady shadows or the Snowy Woods road that the old horse stopped by one snowy evening but which one? Which one was best? And what is "best" anyway? Who can really say? Best for one might be simply mediocre for another? Suddenly, they looked at each other and smiled. "The snowy woods?" He asked. "Yes, she nodded. The horse knows the way."

Writing Prompt: "Uh huh. I'm coloring."

 "Uh huh. I'm coloring."  Writing Prompt


 It was only me and my husband having dinner at the restaurant. No children. No Grand Children, Just us two oldsters. I saw the coloring sheets and crayons as we walked past the hostess station. I didn't see anything posted about age restrictions so I helped myself. We ordered our food then asked the Blessing as we always do.

 Then my husband took out his phone as he always does and looked at t his and that but never at me. Then I took out my coloring sheet which was apparently an ad for good nutrition. Either that or the history of farming because farm animals were there smiling up at me from behind fences and there was rolling hills and trees in the background. Well, the colors were limited to red, green and blue, but I did my best. Blue cows can be quite nice if you color in the lines. Finally, my husband took notice of me and he seemed to be surprised. "What are you doing? He whispered. You're coloring?" "Uh huh. I'm coloring." I finished the coloring page just as the server brought our food. She thought it was quite nice but remarked that she had never seen a blue cow. But what about Babe, the Blue Ox? I asked. She shook her head and seemed confused and puzzled. These young ones! Ha! Bet she never heard of Paul Bunyan either. My husband was still watching me while his phone lay quiet on the table.

What Fun!

On writing and the visible world

I am looking through all my old writings.  One story came to mind, "Camptown Ladies".  I didn't find  that one.  Very difficult to see today.  I view videos  of folks making quilts.  How I would love to do that.  How I would love to write again and rewrite.  How I would like my vision to clear but you know.  I have a promise and I believe it.  (I am the Lord who heals ALL your diseases)  It is a done deal and could happen any moment.  Praise Him!


I still love writing and was reminded of that recently.  A challenge to simply rewrite a wordy sentence resulted  in a mini story.  I truly enjoyed myself. 

DARE::::
Reword this sentence.
*

A man dressed in a black cloak, face covered with a blue bandana and navy blue hat covering his ears, ran for his car
*

my rewrite

.Instantly, he knew letting his wife talk him into wearing that foolish golf hat was a huge mistake.  It was such an ugly shade of navy and the blue of the bandana didn't match the blue of the hat.  She did it on purpose, he thought.  She knew he counted on her to help him with color.  

The only reason he knew the colors were ghastly was the reaction of Porter, the hound.  Porter was his little secret.  You see, if the hair on Porter's back stood up and he ran away howling his misery, then his color choice was bad-very bad.  And that is what happened just now.

Nothing to be done.  He was late.  He pulled the hideous hat down over low his ears covering them completely.  Then he pulled the bandana up high competely covering his face except for a single slit for his eyes.

He fumbled a moment in his is pocket for his car keys
 and finding them intact, he snatched the long black cloak from the hall stand. He  covered his  body carefully and completley.  He threw open the door and plunged out into the poounding rain.  Just as he reached the car, a wild gust of wind  caught the bottom of his cloak flipping it up over his knees.  He stared in horror.  No feet! No Shoes!  Life was indeed difficult for the forgetful invisible man.

Like · Reply · 1 · July 6 at 10:34pm

 sorry the writer jumped out and took over. He was wearing a mask by the way.

think it not strange when fiery trials come upon you!