Writing Prompt 121
Prompt Station
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. When the time is up type it up. Explore a new genre if you wish. 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.
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Today’s prompt is:
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.
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A Change of View
Adam stood on the deck of the boat gazing down the Thames River.
“It is hard to believe that this is where most of the famous British explorers started their journeys.”
Beth closed her eyes. “I can picture it now. All those little ships being laden with enough supplies for a 6 month journey. They must have been masters at doling out just the right amount of food so that they had enough for a return trip.”
“It must have been a magical time,” added Adam.
“Not really,” explained the Captain. “We have grown to see the world in rich colours but it was anything but that back then. Dirty and grimy with things looking less than clean. It was a different world.” He regarded Adam and Beth closely. “Where you are going is much better than those times. At least in prison you will have 3 square meals a day, some heat in the winter. Some cooling in the summer. All nice and comfortable instead of being beheaded for your crimes.”
“Thank God for that,” Beth stated quietly.
Trust Your Gut
Edward was tired of his fellow master builders. The architects who built sleek monuments to clean, sharp angles. Row after row of rectilinear glass monoliths with washboard abs. Mirroring themselves, who generally were tall, trim, square-jawed, patrician. Clothed in stylish bespoke pinstripes. Edward was an everyman. Portly. Crinkled and rumpled, sprinkled with crumbs. Edward wanted the cityscape to reflect folks like him. Like us. He built a less exclusionary tribute to his imperfect archetype. To stand out from the lean, sterile, perfectly proportioned perpendicular superstructures. Finally, the skyline could boast a high-rise with a bit of a belly!