“Don’t say what’s happening.”
For each of these three quick in-class writing assignments, the instructor gave us a few things that the stories had to include, but the fun part was that we weren’t allowed to directly state some of them. I’ll include the bullets after each story so you can see if you figured out what was going on.
I think the third one is the most amusing, but also the most obscure.
Prompt 1
Focus on the waves. Focus on the waves. Focus on the waves.
The hive of blue vests swarmed around him as he stood there facing the beach, breathing and blinking and trying to keep his doughnuts.
“The chalk won’t draw itself, Marty!” said his chief in the same disinterested, grumpy tone he’d interviewed him in. Marty felt a gruff pat on the back push him forward, and then the chief waddled past.
Focus on the waves. Focus on the waves. Focus on the waves.
His hand seemed to move on its own, slowly trembling its way down to the pouch on his belt, taking the chalk out like it was something dirty and unfamiliar.
Focus on the waves.
The sweat of his palms was dampening the powdery stick.
Focus on the waves.
He closed his eyes and gulped, kneeling down and holding his breath.
Focus on the waves.
The chalk stick connected to the asphalt, and Marty led it around tightly, like a noose. He could feel the blood drain from his face, the moisture disappear from his mouth, the tightness from his grip. But not the seconds from his watch. The jagged white line just kept going and going and going, and Marty felt like he would be stuck forever in this nauseous limbo.
Just focus on the waves, Marty.
Just focus on the waves.
Prompt 1′s Bullets
- Young man’s point of view.
- Murder happened.
- Water in the scene.
- Do no directly reference murder or use graphic details.
Prompt 2
One delicate, foxy step after the other carried her forward through the golden wheat. her cheeks were burning because she’d been smirking and giggling to herself for almost an hour now, she was so impressed with her cleverness.
Her hair was a mess, her blouse was missing buttons, and the basket of tomatoes swinging at her side was dropping a trail of juice. But her husband wouldn’t notice, because he never did.
Another spell of self-satisfied chuckles washed over her, and she flicked her hair out to hold her face up to the sun. Everything was magical. i twas all a game, and she had already won, so all there was to do now was enjoy the breeze and rub the places on her face and breasts where she had been caressed.
Wait. Her breast. She froze in mid-stride with bulging eyes, holding herself. She looked down to be sure, and then dropped the basket. By the time it hit the ground, she was already almost back at the rod.
The lack of a bra is something her husband would notice.
Prompt 2′s Bullets
- Middle-aged woman
- Having an affair
- Going to see her lover (do not introduce) or just came back
- Include a road and a field
- Do not mention the affair or that she’s cheating
Prompt 3
“You must be very hungry now, honey,” said my mother with an acidic barb in her tone. I just sat there for a second at the prison-like table, staring straight forward. I couldn’t say anything, so I just nodded.
“How about a banana sandwich? Hmm? Would you like some banana, Sarah? Hmm?”
I glared daggers at her. She squinted back at me.
“Yes, I’m going to make you a banana sandwich.” The knife rose and fell in heavy chops, like a guillotine. “Just let me know if you want more banana in there.”
“Mom!”
“The sandwich, I mean.”
“MOM.” My nostrils flared, and my shoulders were tense with a primal readiness to pounce over the table and strangle her.
She just kept squinting at me, chopping the banana into tinier and tinier pieces. “You should wash your hands, don’t you think? It’s always good to wash your hands, sweetie.”
With a growl, I reluctantly slinked over to the sink. even as I turned the nob, I didn’t look away from her.
“Don’t forget to pray either.”
“I hate you.”
“Eat your sandwich.”
Prompt 3′s Bullets
- Young girl
- Caught by mother masturbating
- Now in kitchen
- Must not mention the masturbating
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