This week’s prompts are at the bottom. Feel free to seize the prompts, twist them, form them, play with them as you will. All comers are welcome. The words below are just practice for me. I had a lot of fun writing them, and you know what I always say, “Practice makes perfect.”
Melissa, her black hair combed back like a raven’s wing, tried not to laugh as she sat proudly in the chrome shopping trolley, clutching her box of Coco Crispies and watching Francine make faces.
The girls lived together. They were flatmates on Valenhampton Bottom Road just outside Tewkesbury. They worked together, played together and were best of friends. This particular romp had begun as a normal shopping trip, but then Melissa had climbed into the trolley as her friend evaluated the fillet steaks and the ground round. Now Francine was running. She pushed the cart up one aisle and down the next, making Melissa laugh hysterically. Melissa, for her part, was shoving heaps of dried breakfast cereal in her mouth. Both girls were laughing when they got to the self-checkout. They calmed down when they noticed the gaffer scowling in their direction.
They slunk out to the car park, and both agreed that they needed to stop at the off-license on the way home. A tipple was probably mandatory at this point.
Melissa ran in from school, “I’m home, Mum.” She tossed her blue/black hair back over her shoulder, dashed upstairs and threw her book satchel on the bed, then back downstairs for a glass of milk and a handful of ginger biscuits. She found her mother in the kitchen.
“I’m going over to Malcolm’s. He got the New Age of Heroes game for his birthday. I’m invited to play!”
“Do your studies first, Melissa and tidy up your room.”
“But, Muuum,” Melissa drew out her plea.
“No, Mel, this is not up for discussion. Drop it.”
Melissa looked into the mirror, combed her coal-black hair, and thought about Francine, about the fun that they had always had together. She wondered where Francine had gone when she disappeared. She had hoped that Francine would have been happy for her when she had told her about Malcolm’s proposal, but instead, she had just buggered off, and Melissa missed her. Her heart ached. Love was not supposed to be this confusing.
She stared at her reflection and tried to figure out who she loved more, Malcolm or Francine? Malcolm was the smart choice. He sat poised on the brink of a well-paying career; he came from a good family and went to the right schools. She knew what her Mum would say. But if Malcolm was the right choice, why did it feel so wrong? She needed to talk with Francine.
This week’s prompts are:
- dirt under his nails and smoke in his lungs
- city witches
- a thousand blackbirds
You can start writing whenever you want, just write, get the words down – and have fun!