Prompted by my own birthday
There’s a funny thing about birthdays and them being the utterly random day in the year on which we were born. Then, after a few years, they turn out to be the utterly random day in which we take stock of the things we have and haven’t done, think about whether or not we’re happy, and whether we’ve reached that place that we saw for ourselves five years prior.
Continue reading “Prompt 80: Birthday Musings”
“Write a bucket list for your favourite superhero”
First things first. Who is my favourite superhero? I had to sit back and think on this for a second. We are so overexposed to the superhero world lately that I find it hard to pick.
For the sake of this prompt, though, let’s say that Storm, from the X-Men, is my favourite. Let’s face it, who wouldn’t want to control the weather? Perpetual sunshine? Yes, please! Continue reading “Prompt 79: Superhero bucket list”
“Rewrite the Gettysburg Address for today’s audience”
Note: I have to say first and foremost that this felt wrong to do…Lincoln was so eloquent in the words he chose for this speech, and English seems to have been made much baser since then. See original below.
Forty seven years ago, our ancestors established here a new country based on Liberty and the understanding that everyone is equal. Continue reading “Prompt 78: Rewriting history”
“Two dollars isn’t a lot of money, unless…”
…you live in a backward universe where efficiency and simplicity are the concepts that define value and thus small and easily measured numbers carry more weight than long or fragmented ones. Two dollars makes you rich. But not as much as one dollar does.
Today, as part of the research I’m doing for this little writing project of mine, I read a lot about this one day in the Second World War: December 16, 1943.
Why that day, you ask? Well, according to our family records, this was the day that Allan Reid Cameron, my great-great-uncle, died while on a training exercise. His plane was brought down because of heavy fog that impaired visibility and led the pilot to crash land near or in Lincolnshire, England. All crew members on the plane perished. Continue reading “Bringing characters to life”
“Five things you see out the nearest window”
- The farthest point positioned outside my window is Mount Baker. It sits beyond a cluster of buildings, on the other (wrong) side of the border. During sunsets, the pink and orange light bounces off it, highlighting the snowy tips that shift in size with the transition of the seasons.
- A little closer is Vancouver’s stadium: BC Place. It stands in contrast to the buildings around it; circular, white, with porcupine-like spokes protruding from its centre.
- I see windows of neighbours living across the street. They give a glimpse into lives ensconced in small places. Tiny microcosms of the human experience.
- I see trees. Luscious green beings that inhabit the city as reminders of what exists beyond its boundaries.
- I see city streets, each peppered with cars moving in uniform directions, aimed towards their morning destinations.
“A love story that starts and ends in 24 hours”
Thanks to Reedsy for the prompt!
Augustus Martinelli walked into his shop, as he did every morning, on the nose of 6:30. He was greeted, as usual, by the full, embracing fragrance of a multitude of flowers. He flipped on the light switch by the door and walked through the storefront, bidding good morning to each of the spring-kissed bouquets he inspected.
“And how are my peonies this morning?” he asked. “Not looking too droopy yet.”
Then he went on to the roses, and the bunches of violets, and, lastly, nearest his little cashier’s desk, the mixed bouquets he prepared every day in the morning, or when there was a lull of quiet in the store.
Continue reading “Prompt 75: 24 hour romance”
“Write a story in which each sentence will begin with a different letter of the alphabet, beginning with the letter A, and moving sequentially”
Audrey Jenkins was her name. But she preferred to go by AJ. Cats were her favourite animal. Dogs scared her.
Every day she would go to school. French was her first class. Grammar was always an issue.
History was next. In that class she excelled. Just as she did in music, too. Kraus was her teacher for that. Continue reading “Prompt 74: Using the alphabet”
“Your most treasured photograph”
One of my most treasured photographs sits on my bookcase, surrounded by my other treasured positions: books, books, and (yes, you’ve guessed it), more books. It’s a photo of me and my sister, aged probably five and four, sitting in a field of wheat, wearing matching outfits, and with our arms around each other. We’re both smiling with squinty eyes and looking straight into the camera. Continue reading “Prompt 73: Here’s to sisters”
“How you’re just like your mother”
I’ve been told on numerous occasions that I take after my mother. I used to staunchly refuse to acknowledge the fact, but now, as I grow older, I catch myself saying or doing things that are only too resonant of her. Here’s just a few ways in which we are aligned. Continue reading “Prompt 72: Ten ways I’m like my Mother”
“Your first time in a foreign country”
On my recent travels (yes, the ones during which I failed to abide by my commitment to keep writing) I went to Sweden for the first time. The reason for the visit was simple. One of my very best childhood friends had been living there for a year and I had not seen her in twice as long (or more). So, without knowing much at all about the country, I landed in Stockholm on a rainy afternoon on the last day of May. I went straight to my hotel and resolved that I would spend my precious few hours the next morning exploring the old part of the city before jumping on a train to Karlstad, near where my friend was living.
Continue reading “Prompt 71”
“An elderly person finally takes the last picture on a film camera they’ve had for decades. Today they’re going to print it.”
Mary was weary of the task ahead of her. In her slow motions towards packing up the house, she had left Michael’s closet for the very end. She had not felt up to it at any other juncture.
Mary and Michael had lived in that house for over forty years. The house’s walls, its very essence, in fact, resonated with memories of their lives within it. Living through the transient presence of their children, friends, visitors, Mary and Michael had been the two permanent inhabitants, taking stock of everyone who passed through.
A few months ago, Michael had himself become a transient dweller as he transited past life into something else, unknown. Continue reading “Prompt 70”