We’re two weeks into 2025 and I’m dead tired. What is even happening?
It’s been another week! How has it been 2 weeks already? What the heck. What is even happening?
I don’t know where the time has gone. Just as I wrote that sentence I realized I never called my friend back. She called this morning. Geez. Sorry, Blondie.
It’s been one hectic week. Deadlines, braindead, too much sugar and eating gluten (I know, I’m sorry. I paying for it already. My throat is killing me.) There was really pathetic pancakes for breakfast today. I’m like what are these flat, round disks of nothingness. The Tiny Child would have been happy with them though. They were just plain pancakes. Very glutenous. I recommend making your own. I’m picky. I’m sorry.
Speaking of such things, we got a new neighbor. He’s tallest, skinniest kid I’ve ever seen, which is pretty impressive. I thought he was gonna be like 30 or something but he’s only 25. Apparently he doesn’t like to eat. I think that’s absolute mahogany. How can someone not enjoy eating? I mean, hello?? There’s so many good things to eat, sweet, spicy, salty, sour. Oof. So many good things. I don’t understand. I don’t. Anyway. That was just a side point.
Prompt 8: Write a story in second person
You walk through the market, urgently looking for shoes. Any shoe would do. Any.
The problem is that you can’t afford them. You’ll have to take them. Steal them. Scurry them away like the rat you are.
You pull your shoulders tighter to your ears, hoping no one sees you for what you truly are; a thief, a runaway, a threat.
You pressed forward, gingerly sidestepping dogs and feces scattered along the ground. The shouts of vendor fill the air, along with the smell of freshly baked bread and just picked herbs.
Where was the shoe vendor? You thought peering around.
Stepping into the crowd, you slide your fingers into the waistcoat pocket of a gentleman picking through the apples. He complained the whole while about how bruised they were.
The lady behind the cart scoffed. “If it displeases ye, get away from me cart.”
The man gave her a dirty look while tucking a few into a worn sack and handing her a small coin. You yank your hand back when he turns around, his face marred with an ugly frown. “Get away from me, you dirty rat!”
You run away, bare feet plodding along the cobblestone street.
Prompt 9: Write a story in third person
She opened her notebook, tapping her mushroom top pen on the table. DeSantis had published three literary journals this month, all on the importance of human relations and Lily couldn’t for the life of her get through reading them.
Lily enjoyed reading. She used all of her free time reading but these assigned readings were not her cup of tea, per se.
The issue she was facing was the robotic writing form DeSantis used. It was so dry it was the same as a puffed rice cracker.
She had even met DeSantis! He was an interesting looking fellow with the straightest hair you’d ever see. Even though he used gel, his hair stood straight up toward the ceiling. His eyes were cat-like, almost suspicious in nature.
Lily was impressed by the way he spoke, his clear, concise sentences making it easy to understand his presentation.
But the journals. The literary essays. They were horrid.
The only thing Lily could come up with was that someone had taken DeSantis’ name and faked writing an article.
Prompt 10: Make a moodboard for your story or one of your characters
Did it! I mean, technically, I already had the board, I just added more things to it.
11. Make a playlist for your manuscript
This was way more fun than I thought it would be. I was kinda doubtful. But oof! Fun! This one was for On The Edge of Falling.
12. Reblog writing from 3 other writers.
Did it. Kinda boring. Not the best.
13. Leave a comment on 3 other writer’s pieces.
I did it on one. I couldn’t find any I liked on Tumblr.
Prompt 14: Write a description using all five senses
Realistically, one would usually use their eyes to see. To see the stars at night, to watch the waves crash into the shore, to enjoy a sunrise blissfully brightening the sky with blues and oranges. Sometimes we forget how important our eyes are. No matter the color of the iris, our eyes are impressive. The color of freshly picked strawberries, the scene of a loved one giving someone a hug, watching bread raise in the oven, seeing our friends laugh and have fun. Such wonderful things.
We use our nose to smell; smell things like crispy ginger cookies, freshly fried garlic, citrusy essential oils in a diffuser, or the smell of your home after returning from a long journey. During covid, many people lost their sense of smell and with it went their appetite. When you can’t smell, you can’t enjoy eating as much as you could. It’s almost a deterrent. A sad, devastating deterrent, also one that is scary to discover.
Touching is part of life. We hug good morning, a kiss to the cheek, warm arms wrapped around. Cuddling after a long day of work, holding each other when something bad happens, to comfort, to show we care. We use touch to feel, to find things, to sense textures, comfort.
Imagine you couldn’t hear music anymore. I think that would be a tragedy for me. I wouldn’t care about missing people’s conversations, but music? Music is food for the soul a bridge between my soul and theirs. Hearing people laugh is a joy, it’s contagious, it’s exhilarating, it fills your heart. Hearing birds chirp happily in the morning, dogs whine and bark, cats purr, someone’s steady heartbeat.
Taste, an essential part of us. A cherry Garcia ice cream, pizza just out of the oven, crispy fried chicken, sautéed veggies, fresh pomegranate , soft, sweet cherries. It really gives us joy, doesn’t it? When there’s a menu, it creates expectation. We are eager to know, to taste, to enjoy the food. Tasting chocolate, eating sour gummies, spicy enchiladas with sour cream. How I do love food!
Prompt 15: Write a story based on five things you find in your pockets or purse
Everything was supposed to be in her backpack, her keys, her headphones, her broken-screen phone, the wallet she had since she was sixteen and her lighter. They weren’t there. Her heart came to a stuttering stop.
Where could they be? Did someone steal them? Did they fall out? Her notes from class were still there, her pencil case full of coins was still jingling in the bottom but her most important things were gone.
She could deal with losing her keys. Climbing up the side of the apartment building wasn’t too terribly hard. The lighter was an easy replacement. She only liked using it for burning notes she didn’t like enough to keep.
Her headphones were the cheap, dollar store variety. Good enough to listen to music with but stingy for recording anything.
But her sad phone and wallet were important. They were essential even.
She pawed through the bag, desperate. She wouldn’t even mind if she cut her finger open on the cracked screen of her phone.
Her heart thudded, drowning her in distress.
The pictures. She couldn’t lose the pictures.
Leaping to her feet, she snatched her bag up and hurried out the door of the library. Maybe she had left them on the counter that morning when she was cleaning her bag. Maybe she set them down when she grabbed her breakfast.
Taking the steps three at a time, she started running.
Her pictures. She couldn’t lose those too.
Crossing the park, she leapt over the hedge, waving an apologetic hand at the gardener who scowled and called after her.
The blocks flew by, time slowing down.
Once outside her building, she tightened the straps on her backpack, taking a running jump to grab the emergency ladder. With a loud screech, it pulled down jerkily. She lifted herself up, pressing her knees into the rusty metal. Climbing up two stories, she switched her backpack to the front, slowly easing her way across the small ledge. Her room was the third window, facing the street.
She pushed it open, falling into the room.
“Surprise!” They shouted.
She screamed, throwing her backpack in the general direction on the sound.
She was shocked to find her boyfriend holding a cake, her best friends huddled around, a congratulations banner hanging haphazardly across the wall.
“What is going on?” She asked, confused.
“You passed your test! We wanted to celebrate!” Her boyfriend said, with a huge grin.
“Oh,”
Her best friend pushed the boyfriend aside, holding out a box that was wrapped. “Here. Take it.”
“What is it?” She asked, reaching out to grab it.
Her friend laughed. “It’s a surprise.”
Tearing the paper off, she opened the box and nearly dropped it. Inside the box was an album. A photo album.
Her hands trembled as she lifted it out, gently flipping it open. There it was. The last picture she took with her mom, as bright as if it was taken yesterday.
“You fixed it?” She murmured, tracing the outline of her mom.
“It took a lot of effort but we fixed it! It’s back together.”
And that is a wrap for week 2! Cool, right? It was pretty fun, ngl.
Let me know what you think!
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