Writing Prompts: Seeds for the Imagination
Hank smashed Joe Connolly's skull with an axe, splintering it to pieces. Impossibly his neighbor was barely grazed, and boy was he pissed!
The water was light shades of blue, the kind you’d see in watercolor paintings at your favorite museum. And though it ebbed and flowed, smashing against the shore, it carried nothing with it. No fish, no crabs, nothing. Sea life stayed away from the north end of the isle, and when Deputy Rosen discovered the half-eaten body of a teenage boy in his wetsuit, he realized that nothing on land was safe, either.
Devon rolled the dice and moved two spaces. “I’ve landed on a mystery box,” he said, and drew a card. He turned it over and placed it on the game board. ‘Lose One Hand’ was printed in a deep shade of red. “That’s strange. I guess I’ll have to sit out one round. But since it’s just me…” He grabbed the dice and rolled again, still unsure what the game actually was. Before the dice settled on new numbers, he realized his right hand had bonded to the board, and the tiny metallic skeleton figures, which he thought were for additional players, came to life and began sharpening their swords.
The sky was blue, damn it!
Wilber stood on the bed of threaded twigs and pine needles, wondering how he'd managed to climb up the tree.
"Son," a bird chirped to him. "It's time for you to build a nest of your own."
"Who, me?" He noticed his feathered wings and gasped.
"Now away with you." The bird kicked him out of the nest.
"No, wait!" Wilber fell to the world below.
People often said that Devin was a crybaby, and they weren't kidding. After crying from the moment his mother left until the time she got back, the house was submerged a foot deep in the baby's tears. "Is this normal?" I sloshed around the living room.
Whenever Johnny needed an idea, he jumped behind the keyboard and typed furiously. New worlds he'd never known flowed from his fingertips like magic. During one particular session, he noticed tiny branches and leaves extending from his fingernails, not unlike the living trees he'd been writing about.
Where she came from I cannot say. But I admire her purple skin and pink lips, don't you? And those eyes...those stunning eyes. A perfect combination of the two.
When Megan warned me that her heart would explode the next time she saw me, I didn't take her literally. Thankfully the Detective Marsh intercepted me before I made it to the apartment. Now I found myself caught up in some sick game to punish her, and I prayed police could disarm the micro-explosive before the killer took another loved one from me. Please, God…not her…
This is Fred. Don't let the knife frighten you. He's just a puppet. And puppets aren't known to do mischievous things at the midnight hour. Isn't that right, Fred?
The charade had gone on far too long, and Jeffrey was quickly growing bored. He kissed her one last time, and pulled out his switchblade. "Honey, there's something I need to tell you."
Anita had an explosive imagination, and hopefully this time she would not leave too many bodies in her wake.
A sorceress needed her minions to feed off of from time to time, stealing from their life core, and adding to her own. But since the black apostle joined them, her potential faded just as quickly as she earned it. If she did not get rid of him soon, she would be old and frail in a matter of days.
A 'recipe for murder' was usually said in jest, but the killer left explicit instructions about how he intended to carve up the Monroe family if the F.B.I. got involved.
"I know I can do this, I know I can do this," the vagrant mumbled to himself. Although it had been a decade since he last saw his family, he knew deep down inside that they would embrace him when they opened the door. As he knocked, a long, green tentacle poked out of the window and slithered towards him. "Perhaps I can't do this," he gulped.
The brave firefighters of Yahoo, Wisconsin loved two things: drinking and stripping, and frequently did both when they arrived at the scene. Then one night, a local church caught fire and...
The magician reached deep into the bag, and instead of a bunny, he pulled out a matching purple bag. The audience giggled as he tried to figure out what had gone awry, and gasped when the bunny yanked him inside.
Jimmy Fox had the win in his back pocket, or so he thought. Once time ticked down at the end of the fourth quarter, the referee would begin calling fouls on the other team. But when his confidant collapsed from an apparent heart attack with two minutes to play, his million-dollar wager was in danger of evaporating completely.
The old man couldn't take it anymore. Every time someone touched the stuffed animal it blared its silly music and wild banter. Finally he decided to take action, and blasted it with his shotgun.
The pipes in the old building frequently clogged and broke, so much in fact that this was Frank's third trip to the manor in a week. As he took out his wrench and walked over, the pipe abruptly swung forward and coiled around his neck.
Cullen had lived in a lot of shabby places in his time, but nothing came close to living in his ex-wife's bladder.
In the middle of the path lay a castle, carved of cinnamon and sandstone. Out popped a silver mouse, adorned with an array of tin cans, and a glass shard for a sword. "Who goes there?" he chirped.
It was of little consequence that Galvin lost most of his teeth in a mid-air collision with a space taxi. He could pay for an injection to grow them back, but it would take a month before they were fully grown in. Instead he opted for the premium upgrade: gold plated choppers that could tear through titanium. And as a bonus, he had them flavored with a strawberry-mango aftertaste. How delicious technology was these days!
Harold and his dog Titi gazed at each other. The old man barked while the mutt struggled to mouth whole words. As a result of the blast, neither had much meat on their bones; though it did little to deter them from fighting over the other's withered remains.
The stars pulsated with a formidable glow that night, especially the one shooting towards her.
"Will you help me die?" The young man handed over the vial.
The scientist considered the emerald cocktail brewing in the cylinder. "Perhaps you should be asking if I will help you be reborn," he replied.
The hairs protruding from Edward's nostrils almost made Bethany puke, but she kept her gag reflex in check, vowing to go through with the date as promised. It did not help that prince homely also had a bramble growing out of his ears; she could only fathom what lie beneath his pants. Then she spotted something so heinous she wanted to rip out her silicon implants. "You've got to be kidding me," she blurted out.
The females on this planet were odd, even stranger than the furry pets and livestock. Although he was not remotely handsome, let alone human, he already had a girl's number. Now all he had to do was enhance himself with the proper equipment; a chore that quickly got out of hand.
Amanda was hardly a sleuth, but it was hard not to notice the bitter scent of almonds. Fortunately her roommate was not aware of her natural resistance to cyanide. "Bottoms up," she grinned, and downed the entire glass.
And so the army marched up the hill, unaware that the enemy awaited them in the trees below and all around.
Twenty years had gone by and still Billy could not speak a word. That was until uncle Lou came by and showed Billy a certain magazine. Now the little brat wouldn't shut up.
It was hard to tell what he was looking at. Even though the creature did not have eyes or a nose, it had no trouble tracking him down and biting off his arm. Hopefully the tranquilizer would work long enough for him to tack on a replacement before he headed deeper into the labyrinth.
Running meant walking and walking meant effort. And although he could not get out of his own chair, he would find a way out of this ramshackle cell, even if he had to crawl out.
Jumi always got the short end of the stick. And besides, it was his turn to take the space ship for a ride.
Vilma read the crossword again and could not believe her eyes. These weren't just random words strung together; they were directions for murder.
Calm and poised, the creature angled its torso as my arm trembled. It keyed off my body, ready to strike as soon as I took my eyes off of it. Sooner or later it would call my bluff and discover I was holding a toy sword.
Nothing was going to stop Marvin Kelsey from winning the gold medal, not even his fractured tibia.
Maia knew the blades of grass were sharp, but this was the first time she'd seen them cut off an elf's finger.
Samantha did as Samantha pleased, even now that she was dead.
The new memory blast was the cappuccino for the soul. With just a few sips one could enjoy the complete works of Shakespeare and recite every line thereafter.
Days passed without any wind, without even the slightest breeze. And now there was a new development. The birds had begun falling from the sky.
Tyler had a wicked pair of running shoes. And after clearing the third hurdle, he found himself dashing across the sky high above the stadium.
Clarence was at a loss to words. Surely he could not explain how he'd grown over twelve inches the night before, nor how his wife shrank by that very same amount.
"Can you believe this nonsense?" the clown took a seat at the bar. "Instead of a paycheck, the circus sent me home with a 400 pound African silverback."
Wilber's medical policy ran out months ago and it was fine by him. Besides, he had plenty of duct tape.
Aunt Florence slammed down with all her might. To her surprise, the fly snatched the swatter from her hand and struck back.
Vorhoot eyed the used car salesman suspiciously. "Do you mean to tell me that this hybrid runs on beans and rice?"
The blue charm only glowed when the netherling drew close.
"What a marvel of technology," he smirked. "Bananas and oranges that peel themselves! However, that's nothing compared to what's in this bag." He slipped his arm inside and took a quick survey of the crowd. Middle to upper class--all of them. He licked his chops. Suddenly he shrieked. Something inside dug its claws into him and slowly dragged him inside.
Finally, after all these years, he knew what he was going to do with his life. Surprisingly, he found it in an ad in the newspaper. "Destiny," he said aloud, "manifest thyself."
He'd gotten rid of his gray hairs no doubt, but now he didn't have any hair at all. Only scales.
The demon removed its skull and polished a spot on the back. "Sorry, what was that you said?"
"Brains? I was really in the mood for sushi," said the zombie.
Sure, she was no Cat Woman, but she still wore a wicked pair of tights.
The land was dry and barren, save the creature that lingered beneath the surface. With any luck, Jess would tempt it from its cave by evening.
With the night she was synonymous, mysterious--alive.
Gray was its shade, nimble and impervious.
All was well until the sky began to bleed.
Nuclea was its name; father of none, mother of all.
The ravenous hunger coursed through him once more and he cursed himself for what he had to do.
White fire ignited the chasm.
Time was not on her side she pondered and slammed the clever into the block.
To be known, to be loved. That was not his calling. The less anyone knew of him the better. It was for their own good. For all mankind, to be sure. And with a faint whisper he took flight.
Wicked was he, and he knew it. The halo had fallen from him long ago, even as a child. He had a talent, this one. A perverse, unwieldly talent.
The sequence was alien, inpenetrable. No one had any hope of cracking it, except one. Of course, she wasn't entirely human.
Frequently he put his foot in his mouth, and at times, all three.
She stepped back into the fire once more, uninterested and unscathed.
"Give me a break," the chimpanzee screamed. "I get it, I really get it!"
Now that the system was collapsing, he contemplated whether he should have thrown the other switch.
"An artificial man made out of plastic?" said the executive. "What in the hell are we going to do with him?"
"I can think of a few things," Felicia smiled.
Old age was on the horizon and he knew that if didn't seize the opportunity right now he may as well be dead. In fact, it was probably too late already. Perhaps it suited him better to be undead. It was a simple arrangement, really. An accidental slip.
"The martians are coming!" the toad-faced man croaked.
"Did he say the Moroccans are coming?" Cybil brushed her crimson nails.
Total Writing Prompts: 72