Week 1 has arrived! To all our newcomers, welcome, and to all our returners, welcome back! What better way to start off a new year than with a blog post (we’re sure there are plenty of better ways, but that’ll be a secret between you, me, and however many people read this blog).
Partly to make up for the lack of a writing prompt last week, I present you a longer, more in-depth writing prompt, if you so wish to participate. *Fade to black*
It is a dark and stormy night in L.A. Actually, it’s not that stormy; the sky is offering hopes of rain in the form of steel-grey clouds. The smol people below await the first drop of water to quench the ever-present thirst that has prevailed since the beginning of The Drought. You are inside your bedroom, the lights dimmed so that the room is bathed in a warm glow. Wrapped in a blanket burrito, you’re sitting in front of your computer, the books that you’re supposed to be reading shoved to the edge of the desk, abandoned, but not lonely. A desk lamp, some food wrappers and other papers are littered about the workspace. Netflix has you wrapped around its finger, but it’s okay because you occasionally break free of its grip by watching some Vines or texting your friend back.
You glance out the window. It’s not quite raining, but it is freckling – water droplets as small as freckles. You jump and scramble back against your seat as you see something fly toward the glass and linger there. Hands covering your mouth, you slowly lean forward to gather a better look at whatever unidentified flying object had tried to gain entry into your bedroom. It was yellow and rather squishy. It was a banana.
Stupid college kids, you sigh and lean back in relief, while also eyeing the smashed fruit with distaste. As you ponder different ways of cleaning up the mess that didn’t involve a 20-foot ladder, a fire hose, Spiderman or a tiny helicopter, your cell phone rings. Your eyebrows knit together as you reach for the phone, wondering who would be calling at 2am. You don’t recognize the caller ID. Normally you wouldn’t answer the phone, but you decide to give it a shot and try messing with this person. You slide the call button to the right.
“Hello,” you greet solemnly, “this is A Missing Tortilla. Have you found my burrito?”
An indiscernible voice replies, “There is a car waiting for you outside your house. Get inside. You don’t want to ignore this.”
You blink twice and pull the phone away from your ear, staring at it as if it had turned into a tiny Yoda. You stand up and push the curtains aside very slightly, so that anyone watching from below wouldn’t notice the motion. Sure enough, there’s a car parked beside the curb, its headlights on and its windshield wipers running despite the lack of substantial rain.
What do I do? I’m just a lost tortilla.
“The Mysterious Call” by
Okay, so you get the point – maybe. Feel free to edit out all the oddness, but here’s the question: what happens next? You can write this as yourself, a character, A Lost Tortilla, or some other inanimate object. This prompt is free for you to explore. If you decide to write to this prompt, feel free to share it with us at firstname.lastname@example.org, or let us know how it goes. And, you can always send us some of your own ideas for writing prompts to publish, to here or to our Facebook website. Happy writing!