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First blog post

Well! I took a deep breath and jumped.

This is my very first blog. I’m kind of nervous and excited to get this started.

I’ve been writing stories on the Writer’s Digest Creative Writing Prompts forum every week for the past two years. It’s been a wonderful learning experience to take their prompts, no matter how weird or specific, and turn them into two or three completely different stories. I’ve written stories on there that I normally wouldn’t have considered writing – science fiction stories, vampire stories, and so on. My fellow forumites, who are awesome writers, have helped me with their suggestions and comments to grow as a writer.

So, after much mental fidgeting and nail biting, I finally decided to create this blog to give my prompt stories a proper home.

Hope you enjoy them!

AK

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The Secret Doors

The secret doors on Seventy-Fifth Avenue
Are visible to the very few.
To children and babies.
To those in their sixties and seventies.
To those just discovering the world
And to those who have discovered it several times over.

Flowers and vines decorate the doors
The secret doors on Seventy-Fifth Avenue.
Magic and spells hide inside the doors
The secret doors on Seventy-Fifth Avenue.

Half of the doors are quite tall.
The other half are medium-sized to quite small.
So many people pass them by.
So many people don’t see them at all.
The secret doors on Seventy-Fifth Avenue.

Don’t be upset if you can’t see them.
Don’t fret.
Don’t frown.
Just know that they are there
For those who are meant to see them.
The secret doors on Seventy-Fifth Avenue.

 

August Writing Prompts

A Fragrant Fog

It was midnight and a fragrant fog drifted down the street.

It smelled like something different to everyone who encountered it.

To that woman over there holding the baby, it smelled like tears.

To the older gentleman walking his German shepherd, it smelled like gunfire and old trenches.

To the young woman sitting on the park bench, it smelled just like her favorite craft store.

Every person who encountered it stopped and lost themselves in the memory it conjured.

One greeted the fog with sorrow.

Another with regret.

A couple deeply in love chased it with joy.

It lasted for only an hour.

And then it faded away.

 

August Writing Prompts

Prosperous Time

Time was prosperous. There was no doubt about it.

He was cautious and patient and wise when it came to investments. He didn’t jump after the hottest, of the exact moment, ones. He waited and watched and studied. Only when he was satisfied did he invest his money.

And it almost always paid off, in large sums and happy returns and generous dividends.

He lived each day in self-satisfied contentment. So very certain that he would never end. For if he died, everything else would fall apart. His end would be the end of everything.

He was so certain that he would go on living forever.

Time never expected Death to come to his mansion’s gold-leaf covered door.

He never expected Death to be a beautiful blonde in a red dress. He never expected her voice to be so full of charm and humor and genuine kindness.

Time never expected that he would leave his mansion with its gold-leaf covered door and its multitude of fountains.

He never expected Death to lead him away with sweet words and alluring promises.

Yet, she did.

And he followed her out his front door.

The sky grew dark.

Powerful trumpets sounded in the sky and trembled the foundations of the Earth.

And Time came to an end.

July Writing Prompts

The Daily Spur Presents….Nonsense (Otherwise Titled: Stay Out Of The West Wing)

Author’s Note: Just a bit of fun nonsense with Disney’s animated Beauty and the Beast.   

Belle was shocked. “My room? Wha? I thought…”

The Beast flared his nostrils. “What? You.. You want to stay in this tower? Huh?”

“uhh. No. Not particularly.”

He swooshed his cape. “Then, follow me.”

“Okay.”

She followed him out of the cold, drafty, and hay-stinked cell.

They walked down the towers long, spiral staircase.

Awkward silence reigned supreme.

She thought about her father and what she had given up for him. The odds of them being reunited didn’t look all that great, to be honest.

“Uhhh. I hope you like it here.”

Tears fell from her eyes.

Like it here? Was he insane? Or did he think that she was insane?

“This castle is your home now. So, you can enter any room you like. Except the West Wing.

That grabbed her attention. “Why? What’s in the West—-”

“IT IS FORBIDDEN!”

And that was the end of that conversation. But what if the Beast had given Belle a different answer?

“The castle is your home now. So, you can enter any room you like. Except the West Wing.”

“Why? What’s in the West—”

“An elephant graveyard!”

“What?? Whoa! I must check this out!”

Belle ran all the way to the West Wing and quickly became embroiled in a Hamlet-based plot.

And the Beast was doomed to remain a beast for all time.

****

Or…

“The castle is your home  now. So, you can enter any room you like. Except the West Wing.”

“Why? What’s in the West—”

“It’s my own personal man cave! DO YOU MIIIIIIND?”

“Man cave…” A mental image sprang up in her head: Gaston standing in a room filled with animal trophies. He put his hands on his hips, threw his head back, and chortled. “Welcome to my Man Cave!”

She pulled a ick face. “Okay. I won’t go anywhere near there. Not ever.”

And she never did.

Or, how about…

“The castle is your home now. So, you may enter any room you wish. Except the West Wing.”

“Why? What’s in the West—-”

He bundled himself up in his cape and growled. “It’s my bedroom. SO, STAY OOUUUUT!”

“Oh.” She blushed. “Well, why didn’t you just say so? I may have an eccentric father and may be something of a social outcast, but even I know better than to go marching into strange men’s…creature’s bedrooms.”

“Oh. Good. I hope you like it here.”

And she never entered the West Wing.

 

 

 

https://thedailyspur.wordpress.com/2018/07/19/nonsense/

Liebster Award!

Screen Shot 2018-07-06 at 10.47.54 PM

Thank you, K.D., at Over The Andes  for nominating me for this award! You’re awesome!  😀

The Rules

  • Thank the person who nominated you.
  • Answer 11 questions about yourself provided by you nominator—or 11 random facts.
  • Nominate 5-11 fellow bloggers with fewer than 1000 followers who you think deserve the award.
  • Create a new list of questions for your nominees.
  • List the rules in your post.
  • Let your nominees know of your nomination personally.

KD’s Questions

What’s your favorite desert? Cheesecake. Any variety other than red velvet. I don’t believe in red velvet.

What are you reading at the moment?  Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare.

Do you have any siblings?  3 sisters and 2 brothers.

What’s the last thing you ate? Pepperoni pizza.

Dogs or cats?  Can I choose both?  😉

When was your last vacation?  Last month. My younger sister and I went to Port Huron with our two dogs.

Tea or coffee? Tea. I like the smell of coffee, but I don’t like the taste.

What’s the last movie you watched?  The Greatest Showman.  So awesome.

What’s the first nursery rhyme that comes to mind? Mary Had A Little Lamb (for some reason).

Cups in the cupboard: right side up or upside down? Right side up.

What’s the last blog post you read? https://thesarahdoughty.wordpress.com/2018/07/15/lies-like-rainbows/

My Nominations

https://themindofnox.com/

https://artbychristinemallabandbrown.com/

https://afterwards.blog/

http://www.mandiehines.com/

My Questions (If you choose to accept them)

  1. What’s the last blog post you read?
  2. If you could ship a fictional character to a deserted island populated by angry cannibals, who would you send?
  3. Which one of your posts are you most proud of?
  4. Do you believe in ghosts?
  5. Cats or dogs or rabbits?
  6. Bungee jumping or jumping out of a plane?
  7. Have you ever read a book and thought, “Darn. I wish I wrote this”? Which book was it?
  8. What is the best advice you’ve been given – writing advice or otherwise?

 

Have a great night!

Enough Is Enough!

Tim sat like a marble statue.

Solid.

Unmoving.

Unmovable.

All of his rage was gone. He had cried it all out of his body.

But the letter was still crumpled in his hand.

He sat there, vaguely aware of the need for him to make something to eat. What time if the day was it? He had no idea.

And he didn’t care.

He sat silent and waiting for her to come home.

He snapped out of his daze as the front door unlocked.

It opened.

She entered the house.

“Oh, Jerry! You’d never believe the day I had.”

Tears fell down his face.

She entered the living room. “I think I…”

He stood.

“Tim.”

“Yes. I am not Jerry.”

Her shock changed into irritation. “And what are you doing here, huh? Spying on me?”

“I found his letter. You left it. You just left it lying on the counter.” He took a step forward. “What? Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”

“Tim. I—-”

“Did you think I’d be too stupid to understand that this—” He shook the paper. “—juvenile prattle was a love letter?”

“Tim. I—”

“A love letter to my wife! One. One that I didn’t write. Lindy. Didn’t you think about me at all?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Not here in HIS house. Come on, Tim. Have some decency.”

“Decency? Decency? What about you? You. Lindy. You betrayed me. You. How could you?”

“This is stupid and needlessly melodramatic. Go home, Tim. Go on. Get out of here. He’ll be home soon.”

“And what? What, Lindy? You don’t want him to see me? You don’t want him to meet me? Lindy. Does he even know that I exist?”

She eye-rolled. “Yes, the first thing I told him when we started this whole affair was, ‘Oh, by the way I’m already married, but you know what? Heck with vows and such. I’m going to just walk all over them and—”

“Stop! Enough is enough. I’ve had it. I can’t. I can’t handle this. I don’t know how to handle this.” He returned to the couch. “What am I supposed to do, Lindy?”

“Take my advice and go home. Just go home, Tim.”

“What about us?”

She shrugged. “We’ll figure something out. We always do. Now, get out of here.”

He bowed his head and tried to gather his thoughts. But they were ungatherable. “Do you love me a little?”

“Of course, I do. That’s why I’m telling you to get out of here.”

“I love you.” He raised his head and looked at her.

Lindy stood, framed by the doorway. She was as lovely as ever.

He stood. “Lindy. I love you.” He marched over to her. “I want us to—-”

She huffed out a sigh. “Tim.”

“Listen to me. I don’t want us to fall apart. Give me a chance. Whatever I’ve done wrong…whatever I’m failing to do…please. Please, Lindy. Come home with me. Please. Before he even gets here, take my hand. Let’s go home. Let’s start all over. I’ll even marry you again, if you still want me.”

She looked puzzled. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

“Furious. Furious and hurt. But I love you. Lindy, I still love you. Please.” He knelt before her. “Come home.”

“You don’t hate me?”

“If I did, I would have walked out that door without you.”

“You love me. You’ve been so distant lately. I thought you didn’t care anymore.”

“I’m sorry.  That’s all my fault. Just feeling bogged down by stuff going on at work.”

“Then, turn to me. Talk to me about it. Like you used to do.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try. I’ll try to be better. Give me a second chance, Lindy. Come home. Please come home.”

She took his hands and pulled him up. “Then. Let’s go home.”

***

An hour later, Jerry came home. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” He entered the living room.

And Lindy wasn’t there.

 

 

July Writing Prompts

Salted Shores

She walked along the shores by day and night. She walked in a black, bustled gown. A heavy mourning veil covered her head and shielded her face.

She walked along the shore with her gaze always watching the ocean’s rushing ebb and flow.

The tears that fell from her eyes hit the shore, crystallizing into salt that the ocean grabbed and stole away.

She always walked alone.

She was feared and dreaded.

A figure of myth and misfortune.

To see her once was bad luck.

To hear her cries was misfortune.

To see her face – her pale, dead face – was a sign of certain death and disaster.

So, no one ever approached her.

No one ever spoke to her.

No one ever dared to look at her.

So, she walked on.

Endlessly alone on the salted shores.

 

 

 

July Writing Prompts