This week, you have 400 words to write about collision. It can be literal or figurative, large or small. Come back Friday to link up your crash results.
He parked his old silver Dodge across the street from the school. The bell rang and children squealed in delight as they burst open through the school doors. He got out of the car and approached the playground.
My father lies on the hospital bed with tubes coming out of him every which way. There’s a monitor by the bed that makes a constant beeping noise.
I fly into the very large lecture hall. I flop down at my regular desk at the back of the auditorium. I sit there tapping my foot rapidly.
“You look white as a ghost,” the girl next to me says. We don’t usually talk much but I feel an uncontrollable need to tell her [...]
With that in mind, for Friday you have 500 words to write a piece, fiction or non-fiction, which includes the phrase “to the moon.”
Come back and link up on Friday’s post.
She looked to the moon. It was full and illuminated like a spotlight. The ground was damp and the neighbourhood quiet. [...]
Two men in business suits sat down in the stands. Everyone else was in casual clothing; they had just come from the downtown office. The horses lapped the track but they paid no interest. Their race wouldn’t start for another ten minutes. Connor shaded his eyes from the sun with his right hand.
“Should have [...]
Anna checks her watch.
“Shit!” she mutters. It’s midnight. She tries the front door but it’s locked. She decides to try the backdoor. As she walks the gravel path she checks her bag for a pack of DuMauriers.
The censor light in the backyard clicks on. She tries the backdoor and it’s locked [...]
Two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane. Their flashlights found nothing in the shadows and soon they were back at their squad car, empty-handed. They kept an eye on the row of windows in the town house complex.
“You got any coffee left?” Mark said to Ted [...]
His crossed arms answered her question before he spoke. He sat across from her at the tiny Starbucks table. Why had she chosen to talk about this here in this generic coffee chain? She reached out to touch his arm and he recoiled. He pulled away from her like a petulant child: uncompromising, unwilling to [...]
About Erica Cresswell

I like writing fiction and reading fiction. My goal is to suck a little less with each writing effort. Connect with me through the sharing buttons below and sign up for the RSS feed!
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