Elizabeth: Friday Writing Sprints

Happy First Friday in August, the approximate midpoint of summer in the Northern Hemisphere and of winter in the Southern Hemisphere.  It’s also International Beer Day and National Raspberries and Cream Day.

Take your pick.

Here in the land of Covid, it’s one in a long string of “Put on Your Mask” and “Keep Your Distance” days.  Fortunately, all is well in my little stay-at-home bubble.  The weather is neither too hot nor too cold, the flowers are blooming, the wind has stopped trying to re-arrange my patio furniture, and the crickets are in the midst of their nightly musical performance.  Plus, I made it almost all day without watching the news – crucial for a sense of well-being.

My sourdough starter is ready and waiting for my latest attempt at making a loaf a bread that does not need power-tools to cut through.  While I wait for the dough to rest or rise or whatever it does while my back is turned, I plan to give today’s writing prompt and random words at shot.

Care to join me?

For those of you working away on a story (whether a first draft or a polished version on its way to publication), if you’re not feeling random, we’d love to hear a bit – whether it’s a scene, a paragraph, or even a phrase that you are especially pleased with and would like to share.

If you don’t have a story in progress, or just want to work on something new, I hope either today’s random words or writing prompt will catch your creative fancy.

Ready?

What if: “Your character meets someone new?

Feel free to interpret the “What” any way you choose (or ignore it completely) and include any (or all) of the following random words:

barbershop      sideshow       fail              favor

bulldozer         southern        edge           blush

fanatic             armchair         wealthy      garden 

gimmick          horrible          brood         angel

I look forward to seeing your stories in the comments.  If you’re not feeling in the writing mood today, or don’t have time, feel free to post suggestions you might have for future “what-if” prompts.  Ideas are always welcome.

Happy writing to all!

5 thoughts on “Elizabeth: Friday Writing Sprints

  1. The sign on the door said “out to lunch, back soon”, so Kitty let herself in. She strode past the horrible, curved, burnt orange armchairs in the waiting area like the bulldozer clearing a path through her other two favorite places- Angel’s Devilish Bakeshop and God’s Garden Emporium, at the southern edge of town. Some wealthy jerk had decided to make way for Hell’s newest mini-strip-mall. Soon every piece of Hell’s gimmicky goodness would be replaced by corporate gimmicky crapness.

    Kitty plopped down into a classic, green pleather seat in front of the slightly older mirror in the town’s single barbershop. She helped herself to a Dum Dum lollipop from the jar in front of her, breathed down into her toes, and decided to spend this quality time in a good brood. Life, Hell, death, magic, messy hair, and no Devil’s Due chocolate donuts anymore. Epic fail! Her life was now complete, or certifiable. Some sick, scripted, sideshow that favored horror and drama as much as it was a fanatic of comedic fortitude. Even Seinfeld couldn’t have improved on the irony of the place. He wouldn’t even make it as a patron saint here. Hell, Michigan was for sinners, no saints here. At least not anymore.

    The front door of the barbershop rattled and an obvious snake in a shark-skin suit slipped in. It looked like he was even wearing guy-liner and blush. What a douche.

    “If you’re in here, you should adjust the sign on your door. People don’t like to wait around for mistakes. Mistakes don’t make for good business.”

    He didn’t breathe, not once, while that entire flood of words drained from his strained mouth.
    I stood up. “I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake, Mister.”

    As he made his way past the burnt orange sentinels, one of them tried to save me and caught his right, wing tip shoe with a 70’s, aluminum leg. The man kicked out and sent the soldier sprawling.

    “I don’t make mistakes. I suggest you do yourself a favor and just do your job or lose it and your business.”

    He took command of my green parlor chair like he was an Emperor sporting new clothes.
    “I need everything trimmed up, and don’t mess up my facial hair, just neaten it up.”

    Of all the times for Bob to have gotten rid of his straight razors.

    I grabbed a cape and wrapped him up. I pictured a straight jacket as I secured the Velcro around his neck. He gave me a quick, stern look in the mirror then gave his attention over to his phone.
    It took me less than 15 minutes. He mentioned something about it being adequate, paid, and clipped Bob on the way out the door.

    Bob saw the beast with no personality for a heartbeat, before he saw me and let him go.
    “I should’ve known.”

    He pulled me in for a huge hug. I didn’t know how much I needed one until that minute.

    “Known what?”

    “Only my Kit Kat could possibly piss off someone that bad.” He stood back and looked me over. “I’m guessing he wasn’t much of a tipper.”

    “Nope. That’s why I charged him the dick head rate.”

    I offered Bob the $50 bill I had been paid.

    Bob smiled. “You keep it. I think you earned it.”

    “What can I do for you?”

    I plopped back down in my rightful green chair, “I need help! It’s completely out of control and no one handles crazy curls better than you.”

    We looked in the mirror at my unruly mop of curls for a moment. “I might need that $50 back.”

    I stuck my tongue out at him and grabbed another Dum Dum from the jar. There were some things about coming home that sucked less than others.

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