Other stories for this prompt

I wish I had some pop. Not just regular pop though. A&W Rootbeer. Yeah, that would be amazing right now. But then again I think that stuff has some addictive narcotics in it. They put some crazy foreign mouse hair crushed up with lima beans and introduce it to the mixture before brewing. And then we drink it. Drink it all up and it fizzes as it goes down our throats and into our tummy's. And then it goes through our intestines and filtered into our bladder where it has a big fizz party! But that's when the lima beans...

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We come from beyond the stars. We are the Yorkie chocolate bars.

I was in Grade 4 and this giant living chocolate bar was walking around the schoolyard. We tried shooting it and pelting it with rocks. But nothing worked. The chocolate bar was too thick.

"YORKIE!" it screamed and then it tickled me. Or gave me a wedgie.

Man, I hated that thing. But I have to confess that in a weird way, I liked it too. Don't ask me why but for some reason, I sensed that it wasn't completely malevolent. No. Deep down, I knew there was...

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The doctor told me the swelling would soon subside. This made me happy. I hate swellings. Especially in my nose. Once my nose swelled up to the size of the moon. Literally. I was upstairs in the attic when my schnoz grew to the size of a lunar satellite. It crushed all of Prince Edward Island and displaced half of the Atlantic Ocean. People in Pakistan died.

Yes, having a nose the size of the moon is not good. For that matter, having a foot that is the size of a football stadium is also not good. That is what...

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This isn't right. I shouldn't have fled up here, among the scaffolding and girders. Only birds can stay perched up in these heights, gazing recreationally at the world so foreign to their own. They don't want me here, I don't belong.

I make no excuses for myself, but sometimes you just have to go. Something bursts in your head, that little reserve energy you were saving for an extra day suddenly gets injected full-force into your veins, and you take off. Sometimes it takes you to a cafe somewhere downtown. And sometimes it storms you up onto the hull of...

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Blue open windows,
training wheels on the driveway,
Papa let me fly.

Afternoon bubbles,
wedding bells for fireflies,
the laughter echoes.

Saturday mornings,
the rain never goes away,
I'll always love you.

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She sat in her car, staring up at the Motel 6. After begging her boss to let her off early, she almost wished he would have said no. If her boss knew what she was up to, he probably would have.

"I shouldn't be here," she whispered to herself, staring at the motel key Steve gave to her.

But she also knew she wanted to be. The same battle she has every Sunday night at about nine thirty. It's always the same. Leave work two hours early, come spend time with Steve. It's become as easy as blinking; automatic, and...

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Mr. Sippee is the new owner of the Turtle House. Mac and I met him on Tuesday. There he was, sitting on the roof, waving to the swans. We went up, cause Mac had his own ladder. "Hi kids," says Mr. Sippee. Then he jumped off the roof. Down he fell. One storey. Two storeys. Three. Crash into a pile of broken marble.

Up gets Mr. Sippee. His head is cut in half and blood is dripping from his ears. But no matter. Out he pulls a needle and thread and gol durn but he sews his head right back...

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Millions spent on public health are inflationary. This is why we should kill people when they're born. That's right. When a baby is born, you flip a coin. If it comes up heads, kill it. That's what they do in China, only they don't flip a coin. They say if the baby has a vagina, kill it.

And this is a little creepy for a six minute story, isn't it? I got the first line by opening a Kurt Vonnegut book to a random page and writing down the first line I saw. Everything flows from there.

The word flow...

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My head is pounding, three days of this. The wind has been blowing. I look out my office window and it is either the eye of the storm with it's fits and starts or we're near the end of it. The trees are bending, but there are little black leaves, birds. They're sitting swaying in the tree, calm. When they fly off, they all fly off. Its like watching a school of fish. One makes a subtle turn that sets off a wave and undulation.

Its an eerie view, because suddenly I thought of those childhood explorations in the woods...

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"Damn it!" She swore under her breath. The room was pitch black and she turned quickly. They were already gone. She twirled a piece of her hair, a nervous tic she picked up as a child.
"It's not funny, guys!" She yelled into the empty hallway. At least, she hoped she was facing in the direction of the hallway. And hopefully it was empty.
"Where are you?" She should have taken a flashlight. She could kick herself for being so stupid. They had been right behind her two minutes ago. She groped down the hallway, trying to find another door....

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About the prompt

Blank Prompt

Freeform prompt. Every Friday, writers face a blank page without any prompt. They write whatever they want in six minutes or less.
Prompt suggested by Galen
Originally displayed on:
September 30, 2011

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