Writing Prompt Number 1

[Tommie Lyn]

Loneliness carved a wide swath through -----------

[Tommie Lyn]

The Usefulness of Books
by Tommie Lyn
Word count: 469

Loneliness carved a wide swath through the bravado Shirley had so carefully maintained, and the pieces of it collapsed around her. She laid the heavy book on the coffee table. Why had she believed the assurances of the bookstore clerk?

"Oh, you'll love it!" The clerk's plump cheeks shone like polished apples as the smile pushed them into round evidence of happiness. "It helped me soooo much!"

"Well, I don't . . ."

"Really, it does! Look here." She turned the book over, read a paragraph aloud.

And raised Shirley's hopes.

So Shirley bought it. And read it. But it failed to deliver the promised contentment and peace. Aloneness lay across her shoulders like a chill cloak. But worse, her ever-present nagging fear still clawed and chewed its way through her. She shook her head and berated herself.

Help me? Ha! Why did I fall for that hype?

Shirley looked at the book with its cleverly designed cover and sighed. What a waste of money. She switched off the lamp and padded into the bedroom. She laid her robe on the chair and climbed into bed.


* * *

A sound penetrated her dream and jostled her into wakefulness. An awareness that she was not alone shot through her and the last vestiges of sleep dissolved in the surge of fear that engulfed her.

"Hey, Shirley," he said softly.

She could barely breathe.

"What made you think you could get away from me?" He chuckled, low and lazy. "That was stupid. Like everything else you do."

She tried to speak but could not.

"So. Where is it?"

She merely stared at him.

"I know you don't have it here. Or do you?" He moved silently to the side of the bed and stood looking down at her. "No. You wouldn't be living in a dump like this if you had it with you. You never could resist spending money."

He leaned over, grasped her arm with one iron-hard hand and dragged her from the bed. She saw the gleam of the gun in his other hand. He shoved her into the living room, where the slanting shafts from the streetlight outside fell across the book, highlighting its shiny cover.

Shirley stumbled, almost fell, but caught herself, landing with both hands on the coffee table. She grasped the book, swung it around as she raised herself and slammed it into his hand, knocking the gun from it. His eyes widened and he raised his hands, but too slowly, as Shirley slammed the heavy tome into the side of his head. As he toppled, Shirley retrieved the gun from the couch where it lay, a smile forming on her lips.

She glanced at the book, lying beside his head. Her smile broadened.

The clerk was right. The book did help me.

[Keith Wallis]

Ah this has got to be a fiction thread 'cos there's no such thing as a swath.

Loneliness, the only surviving Sneesian on Pneumonia, cut a wide swath into the rebark tree. 'Swaths' were the tapping shapes, usually only narrow, which allowed the flow of sap to drip into a cup tied around the tree trunk. Rebark sap was the drug of choice for Sneesians but made them spell badly although they didn't realise it.
This penchant for sniffing rebark sap had been their downfall. Had they noticed their misspelling of 'agree', when they replied to the treaty proposed by the Antivirusian senate, they'd not have been decimated.

The Antivirusians for their part, being a little intoxicated by their favourite celebratory drink, were unaware of their own inability to see grammatical errors.

So the document suing for peace which should have said 'We agree to the terms stated' actually said 'We're agrieved to the terms stated. Which in turn was read by the confused Antivirusians as: 'We're agrieved by the terms stated'. In the following turmoil, and so as to 'do before being done to' the Antivirusians delivered the genocidic payload of the 'nightnurse' missile.

Loneliness, having been away visiting a pen pal on the nearby planet of Isolation II, arrived home after the 'all clear' would have sounded had there been anyone left to sound it. He was beginning to wonder why no-one was at home when the sap began to muddle things up delightfully for him. He began to write to his friend.........
Dear Nub, things for the grade stay. Missed do it agen sum thyme.

[lynnmosher]

I had to read to read these to see where this was going. Tommie Lyn, loved yours. And yers. keIHT, is two hunny! LOL! How do I match up with these?

[lynnmosher]

Okay, here goes. I know I boo-booed. I couldn't get the prompt as the first sentence. If I did, it didn't make sense. So banish me to the far corners of the isle of writing! Hey, that's not a bad idea! LOL!

The Checkout Lane
Word count: 470

With the parking lot full, finding a space was almost impossible. Shopper after shopper filed in the store’s front door, lists in hand and most lacking the Christmas spirit. The checkout lanes stretched halfway through the store. As angers were on the verge of erupting, Loneliness carved a swath through the throng of shoppers, fighting for a place in each line.

“Why don’t they have more checkout lanes open?” complained one shopper.

“I don’t know. This is so depressing,” grumbled another nearby.

Each lane had its share of Grinches and lonely hearts, each moaning over all the congestion. In one lane stood a mother with three small kids in tow, all whining and wanting everything in sight.

In the next lane stood another mother with her three little ones, all in a joyous mood. Six year-old Olivia asked her mother, “Mommy, why is everyone so grumpy?”

Lowering her voice so others wouldn’t hear their conversation, she whispered, “I’m not sure, dear. I think everyone is in a hurry and they don’t know the meaning of Christmas.”

“Don’t they know it’s Jesus birthday?”

Trying so shush Olivia, she lowered her voice again, “I guess not. Some people just don’t know.”

“Well, why don’t we tell them?”

“I don’t think this is a very good time, dear.”

“Why not, Mommy? Didn’t you say it’s always time for Jesus?”

“Well, yes, I did, but…”

“Well, let’s tell them.”

Overhearing this conversation, those standing near this family began shifting their weight from one foot to another, uncomfortable as to what they might hear next.

The mother began to silently pray, “Oh, Lord, if You desire others to know it is Your birthday that they’re supposed to be celebrating, then please resolve this situation.”

Olivia bowed her head and thought for a moment. Then, a very soft little voice began to sweetly sing…

“Away in the manger, no crib for a bed, The little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head; The stars in the sky looked down where He lay, The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.”

Silence fell on the checkout lanes. All that could be heard was the whirring of the cash registers. No one said a word.

Then, that sweet little voice began to sing again, “Joy to the world! The Lord is come; Let earth receive her King; Let ev’ry heart prepare Him room, And heav’n and nature sing, And heav’n and nature sing, And heav’n, and heav’n and nature sing.”

Just as a place was made for baby Jesus to be born so many years ago, a place was made for Him in the checkout lane. Smiles erupted across the stone-cold faces of the Grinches. Peace swept across the store, carving a swath through the crowd of shoppers and banishing Loneliness, and the Grinch, from the checkout lanes.

[kshsj777]

Oh you guys, the stories are so awesome! Though to be honest, Keith, I didn't get yours, even though I thought it was funny.

I might do one of these prompts sometime, but no promises.

[Keith Wallis]

Though to be honest, Keith, I didn't get yours, even though I thought it was funny.
kshsj: Nothing there to 'get' - just five minutes sillyness !

[kshsj777]

Okay, I didn't know if it was suppose to make sense or not! LOL

[Tommie Lyn]

Actually, kshsj777, it does make sense. Read it slowly, make the connections (and there are some subtle ones). With the info in the backstory, it has a beginning, a middle and an end, which makes it a complete story.

[kshsj777]

Oh! Okay! I get it now! I did have to read it very carefully! Very funny!!!!

[Cymrugirl]

Word Count: *laughs* 499




Loneliness carved a wide swath through his hair over the years, plucking them one by one to reveal a polished sheen atop his bedroom eyes - eyes framed only by fragments of the chestnut-colored fluff that had once been his pride. He gazed longingly across the room. The woman’s malformed lips held no allure, but her fortyish figure was enchantingly plump, and with one shared glance, he made up his mind to dance the limbo as soon as the DJ gave his cue.

“Nice shirt,” the bartender offered.

“Hmph.” Hinting, he chinked his now lonely ice cubes.

“Nuther?”

“Yup.” Then, as a familiar song started to spin in the flamingo-pink booth above, “Never mind.”

Setting the glass down with a determined thunk, he rose and inched his way across the dance floor. Along with its usual fragrance of beer and heavy cologne, the room was punctuated by a new scent. Sweat. Tugging at his collar to reveal copious chainage dappling a paste-colored chest, Earl got down.

You got me backtafunk....And I’m still turning...I can’t explain, no alibi.....The rhythm got me paralyzed......

He got down for several minutes. The woman with the malformed lips might have even smiled at him, but it was hard to tell. No matter. The smoke was full of faces tonight, young ones, old ones, fat ones, black-eyed skinny ones - and they were squealing like pigs. Earl’s blood pressure rose.

After the tenth full minute of getting down, he realized he couldn’t get up.

The dance floor was hard, the lights hot. The enchanting plump was hovering over him now, her spider-like lashes raised to her tattooed eyebrows. She opened her mouth, but all he heard was the siren.
************************************************** ***********

“This is the third night in a row he’s been out all night.”

“Third?”

“Mm hmm.”

“I thought he’d been fixed!”

“We did too. But you know what they say. Sometimes it doesn’t take.”

“So what now?”

“Men are intelligent creatures. I plan to give him a good talking to.”

The two voices sounded like they were in a box. Maybe they were.

“And if that doesn’t work?”

A sigh.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Muriel. Males are nothing but trouble.”

A door closed. Earl was awake. Down the bed, atop his thin green blanket was the disapproving gaze of an orange cat. The diamond-collared face blinked.

“Gloating?” he said with a sneer.

“Oh, honestly” answered the cat.

A sharp pain suddenly seized his neck.

“Well, what did you expect?” she said. Then, dancing lightly to the head of the bed, she pushed a small red button with her tiny paws and Earl’s restraining collar unfastened.

“Come on then,” she said, stopping once to touch his face with a tiny pink tongue. “Frank will be livid when I tell him. I’ll be lucky if he lets me keep you this time.”

Outside, they approached a spearmint-colored Buick. Familiar lips quivered through the window.

“Looks like another one followed you home, Romeo.”

Earl got down.

[Ransom v. Unman]

"What is the Point"?

Word Count: 500 exactly!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loneliness carved a wide swath through the android ranks. Line upon line let down their guard, and put the focus of their silicon minds to pondering the question put before them:

“What is the point of all this?”

Opposite the phalanx of metallic, humanoid barbarians, two lonely and well-camouflaged onlookers breathed deep sighs of relief.

“It worked, Robby,” said one to the other. “Dead in their tracks.”

“That’s only half of it, Dennis. They stopped their advance for the moment; it doesn’t mean they’ve stopped their advance.”

Dennis eyed the box in Robby’s hands. From one little switch in that transmitter, the question sailed through the air in radio waves, entered the androids' communication channel, leapt into their minds as an innocent string of zeroes and ones, and unfolded itself to paralyze the oncoming army with a single quandary. It bypassed the virus-blocker, it moved through the firewall as just another source of stimulus or input, but thus far it had done its job well.

“I can call the airstrike any second,” whispered Dennis, “even if they move forward we can catch them unawares, and weaker maybe.”

“Just hold on. They haven’t had the chance to process all their data.”

“If we wait too long, they could reactivate.”

“Don’t misunderstand what this message does, Dennis. They aren’t actually deactivated right now. If we launch a strike too early, our planes will be blown out of the sky. They could be reawakened with conviction and urgency; our whole venture would be pointless.”

Robby looked back on the cityscape, a faint series of sharp-ended blocks on the far horizon. The defenders of that city had hope in nothing else by this point. If Robby’s experiment failed, the androids would continue their march, and it would only be a matter of time before the last man in that city perished at the robots’ hands.

Then the sound of collapsing steel scattered across the plain.

“It’s happening!” Dennis said with excitement rising in his muffled voice.

Here, they saw an android collapse to the ground; there, they saw another one drop its weapons and march against its ranks. Near the back of the column, rifle fire broke out. Explosions pocked the lines. A few noble machines went forward to uphold their mission, only to be set upon by a swarm of their compatriots.

The virus had done its work, but it wasn’t really a virus, just one simple question; the question that man and machine alike feared so much, the question upon which all other questions hinged. While Robby and his assistant, Dennis, had discussed the issue of defending the city at length with other leaders, they struggled to determine what people could do better than robots. Then they figured it out – we could process more than raw data and cold facts. Our emotions and functions were not birthed by programmes and machinists, but from the bosom of creation itself.

We could figure out the point. They, simply, could not – and thus it ended.

[Ransom v. Unman]

Blimey, Cymru... It took me three or four reads to figure out what was going on there in yours, and I'm still not sure I've got it entirely right.

:o

Good show everyone. They've all been pretty entertaining!

[Cymrugirl]

Blimey, Cymru... It took me three or four reads to figure out what was going on there in yours, and I'm still not sure I've got it entirely right.

:o


I think you've just summed up the nature of my existence, Ransom. The phrase most often heard in my company: "What in the world are you talking about?" Of course, now my friends just start our conversations with this to get it out of the way.

LOL I blame it on my violin.

Anyway, to sum up - yours is (good, by the way :D) man as/vs machine, mine was man as/vs animal - essentially. It started with a fixation on men in Hawaiian shirts, and ended with the sight of my cat napping just as I had to return to work - you know, that work I do so I can buy her food and make her house payment.


Oh, and I love the imagery of a child singing at checkout lanes at Christmas. It made me think of Jesus overturning tables at the temple. Props to everyone!!

[Ransom v. Unman]

Anyway, to sum up - yours is (good, by the way :D) man as/vs machine, mine was man as/vs animal - essentially. It started with a fixation on men in Hawaiian shirts, and ended with the sight of my cat napping just as I had to return to work - you know, that work I do so I can buy her food and make her house payment.


GOOD! I did get it! Yes!

[Cymrugirl]

Hoorah. *feels understood* You don't know how rare that is. ;)

[Tommie Lyn]

Great job, everyone! I love the creativity and uniqueness that just floods through a writing prompt thread....

[Rebecca]

Moving this to the new Writing Prompts & Story Starters Forum (http://christianwriters.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?f=97)....

Rebecca

[lynnmosher]

Hurray for Rebecca! Three cheers! You're so smart! And handy to have around, too! LOL! From me, thanks!

[Tommie Lyn]

All right, Rebecca! This is great!

[thayes]

Word Count: 478 words


I'm not too sure about this. But here goes.:p

The Cage

The steel bars imprisoning her were unyielding as she launched her attack, relentlessly pounding them with all the might she had left in her frail body. Desperate to be freed from her miserable confinement, she slammed against the cage repeatedly causing her hands to burn with pain.

“Someone please help me! Can anyone hear me? Please let me out of this prison,” she shouted, pressing her brow into the icy steel. She searched intently for someone, anyone who could grant her reprieve.

Her clothes, soiled and frayed from years of wear, seemed to hang awkwardly on her tiny frame. Her long, unkempt hair, dispersed in all directions round her sullen face as she surrendered, unable to affect any visible change in the bars that surrounded her.

Loneliness carved a wide swath through her wounded heart as tears tracked down her dirtied cheeks.

Taking in a deep, cleansing breath, she released her firm grip on the cold steel bars as her stinging hands crashed hopelessly to her side.

She desperately needed to rest, but her rigid joints and muscles throbbed as the painfully undersized cage would permit little or no movement at all. But despite her discomfort, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

The sound of footsteps approaching with ferocity roused her. She refused to open her eyes. She didn’t want to see the object of her pain. His foul and abusive declarations cut through her soul like a knife.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself slave? Why do you struggle against the cage? It is your destiny, you must accept it.”

The slave girl covered her ears in an attempt to mute his persecuting tongue, but his words easily seeped between her soiled fingers.

Turning to walk away, the tormentor laughed at her feeble attempt to shut him out.
“I’ll be back later slave; don’t you worry, I won’t be gone long.”

Moments later, she again heard the sound of approaching footsteps. This time however, the steps seemed gentle and melodious as they grew closer to her cage. The sweet smell of His presence seemed to relax her stiffened posture. Looking up, she saw standing before her a broad shouldered, handsome man, dressed in a velvety white robe.

Taking hold of the cage door, it offered no resistance to His gentle tug as it swung open wide.

“Come with me,” he called as He offered His assistance. She eagerly clutched His hand, and He pulled her from the cage.

“The next time the tormentor shows up….I won’t be there,” she stated timidly. “But what about all the other cages I saw as we were leaving?”

With a broad smile He answered, “We will return for each and every one. You have My word.”

Holding hands they walked away together, disappearing into an endless sea of empty cages reflecting the brilliant glow of the sunrise.

[Tommie Lyn]

Good job, thayes! Good job EVERYone!

[Tamera]

All right. I finally came up with something.


Welcome Home

Loneliness carved a wide swath through her heart as she thought about all the time she had wasted. It was another Christmas without her family, another year without anyone who cared. Susan remembered the day when she left.

“Susan, if you can’t live by the rules of this house, you can’t live here,” her mother said.

“Mom, I’m tired of it,” Susan stomped her foot. “I’m eighteen years old, and if I want to spend the night with my boyfriend, that shouldn’t concern you.”

“It does concern me. You’re my daughter. You’re giving yourself to that… that boy. Since you’ve starting dating him, you’ve changed. He isn’t good for you, honey.”

“It’s my choice who I see,” Susan said. “I’m an adult.”

“Maybe,” her mother said. “But if you want to live here, you’ll be in by midnight.”

“Well, then I’m leaving.” Susan slammed the door as she left. Tom, her boyfriend, was waiting outside in a beat up van.

“I just left home for good,” Susan said.

“Good,” Tom said. “I wondered when you were gonna get your fill of them hypocritical do gooders. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

Tom left three months later. Had it really been a year. It had been the hardest year of her life. Why hadn’t she listened to her parents? Would they take her back even though she had strayed so far? She would tell them how sorry she was. She would tell them that she was not fit to be their daughter.

“How old is your baby?” the woman in the bus seat nest to Susan asked.

“One month,” Susan said.

“Are you going home for Christamas?”

“Yes, we’re going home.”

The bus stopped, and Susan stepped down with the baby in her arms. She looked around wondering if her parents had received her letter. Then she saw them.

They saw her and started running toward her.

“Mom, Dad, I’m sorry. I’m not fit to be—“

Her mom hugged her with the baby between them. Her dad had tears in his eyes.

“Welcome home,” her mother said.

[thayes]

Great Job Tamera!

[Tommie Lyn]

Good job, Tamera! Very touching!

[Tommie Lyn]

I've posted Writing Prompt #2 in its own thread. Let's see what we can come up with...

[JayBee]

Loneliness carved a wide swath through the Jelly Beans with his big toe.

"That ought to give em something to think about" he muttered as he made a dash for freedom.

The Jelly Beans had long been at war with the Gingerbread Men but this was the first time they'd actually captured one and the last if Loneliness had anything to do with it..

He threw himself through the doorway and twisting his body cartwheeled along the corridor to freedom.

The Jelly Beans realising the futility of pursuit began to look for a scapegoat by thowing accusations at each other.

"Which buffoon left the forcefield switched off" demanded the irate Green Company platoon leader manacingly.

"Don't look at us" replied the Yellows dusting their Platoon Leader down and helping him to his feet

"Stop all this" shouted the Orange Leader whilst motioning to the First Aid team to help a fallen Orange comrade who was having difficulty in walking a straight line.

"It's no good squabbling amongst ourselves we need to regroup and try again."

Will the Jelly Beans ever win the war or are they ever doomed to let the Ginger Bread Men remain free forever?