Week 9 (If you want to know where you’re at, but there’s no need to count).
If you have been writing to the prompts regularly, well done. If you haven’t followed any prompts yet and you’re here now, this is what matters. Be brave, give it a go and be present. Write and pour your heart on to the page. Write by hand if you can, please. There is no right or wrong of working through or with these prompts. Explore a new genre if you wish, but you don’t have to. Look at today’s theme and write what first comes to your mind. If you are an artist who prefers to draw or create other pieces than writing that’s ok too.
Writing is about what you see and how you see it. Others may not want to see what you have to share. It’s your job to tell the story that’s burning inside, even if the pages get to carry too much. Your job as a writer is to write it.
If you use these prompts and make a post or other work please say what inspired you to create and link it back to this post and the Writer Pilgrim by So Elite publication.
If a prompt doesn’t work, make it work for you. Pick an element, a word or an angle and try again and well done for persevering. Be gentle and be kind to yourself.
If you have missed a prompt you can go back to the Prompt Station starting page and look through what you’ve skipped. Give all prompts a chance. While you may be inclined to pick and choose, you may want to look more closely at the ones you’re avoiding. It may be that those prompts can offer you some guidance or discovery as you set out to write. Don’t always go for the safe option. Try new things in your writing. That’s what a prompt is for, to play, explore have fun and be silly or serious.
Today’s prompt is:
He sat there looking out the window and sipping coffee…
Set your timer to 5 minutes. If you feel like writing more after the 5 minutes have passed carry on.
This is a 5 minute exercise in writing in long hand and letting your pen lead your words on the page. No judging, no editing, just a stream of words coming out.
These prompts are for the workshoppers of the Friday in person club. If you find yourself on here, the page is currently posted to web only on most days. You may choose to write to the prompt and keep it private on your notepad. I don’t mind. If you decide to post your writing in comments, you may get a comment or like from someone other than me! Can you handle it? This page is online, so only share what you are comfortable with.
I appreciate you. Thank you for being here. Thank you for those of you who post your work and those of you who read, comment and support.
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He sat there looking out the window and sipping coffee. He drank the same, each day. Black coffee with cold milk. It was the drink of someone who knew how to disappear. To melt into wallpaper or the carpet underfoot. He was sat in a corner, between the window and the wall. I liked that seat too. You could survey the whole room without anyone noticing you were surveying the whole room. You could hear what coffee people ordered. You could observe, unobtrusively. Which he normally did, or so I believed. But today he was looking out the window instead.
We had never spoken much beyond the interaction that was required when ordering coffee. And yet I liked him. Perhaps even, that was why I liked him. I'm a shy person but I am also a quiet person. Those are two different things. Shyness warms up, in places and with people that are familiar. Quiet people, tend to be quiet by disposition.
Sometimes, when he opened his wallet to reach for his debit card, I would see a passport photo of a child, perhaps four years old. I never saw him with a child, or with anyone for that matter, which struck me as odd, but was another thing that endeared me to him. He didn't say much, but when he did speak, he was softly spoken, with a low, steady voice. One time, a colleague of mine brought him a cappuccino by mistake. He didn't say anything. Just drank it, albeit more slowly than usual. That was the day I realised I like him. That was when I realised he was shy too.
The Flutter
It caught his eye
A fluttering sound
A swerve of white
While sitting
sipping coffee
He watched
A white bird of plastic
Surreal to the eye
Caught by the wind
On the pavement out side
Carry itself
Higher and higher
While sipping coffee
He noticed
Such a strange species
A seagull perhaps
Not made of origami
But a shoppers bag
Released
Into the wild
The fluttering folds
continued
In search of a branch
Or a roof top
Of slate
To rest
And search
Even
Then
He thought
Strange bird
Strange world
Where have all
The real birds gone
Another sip
He twists his wrist
looks at his watch
The time for him too
To slowly move on
Wearing
crisp
Soft white linen
On this hot
summers day
Wednesday June 26
prompt:
He sat there looking out the window and sipping coffee…
For writers pilgrim workshop by Lucinda Sieger time 08.09am