The Missing Post


So last week I was camping, and the signal on the campsite was appallingly bad. Not that it mattered much, because you don’t go camping to be on the internet. But it did make things much more difficult in terms of posting once a day. I still managed, but it seems as though it was a litter too much to post twice in one day. And so, the post I wrote last week did not get posted, and somehow disappeared into the ether.

I have decided, under these circumstances, to ignore the goal I set myself last week. I can’t really remember it but it was something about coming up with multiple ideas for each prompt. Which I still think is a good idea. But more on that later. In lieu of that goal I decided to work with the goal from the week before. Which was:

Edit each piece at least once before publishing.

Now, I have not done this. I know I haven’t. But maybe that’s because the goal didn’t inspire me. It didn’t make me want to write more. It didn’t challenge me creatively. It challenged me in other ways, but not creatively. And so I think, even thoguh I did not meet this goal, I ham going to think of a new one for this week.

As I talked about before, I wanted to think about different ideas and concepts for each prompt. I think it would be good for me to be able to branch out from the usual romance/comedy things that I write. For me, the best piece I have written so far this year has been Company, and that was largely due to the fatc that it made me feel so much. Romance is easy in a novel. You get to know the characters, and then when they fall in love you are happy fro them. It is harder in a short story. I would like to, at some point, try to focus on Romance. But not this week. And there’s where the goals come in. For the next few week, I am going to set myself the goal of writing a different genre each week. And this week it is:

Each piece of writing has to be in the Science Fiction genre

These genre’s will be based off this list, which is what comes up when you google ‘book genres’:

Blog Post

So! Exciting stuff.

Until next week.

The Plan

Prompt: The Friday After

The whole week had been leading up to this point. A carefully planned mission. And tonight, tonight it would all be worth it. Every second spent staring across the canteen. Every moment we walked around the school, looking for him. Every time I had to hear his name said in that annoying, breathless whine. Hopefully, after tonight, I will never have to think about him ever again.

I drive up to Jesse’s, leaning on the horn for a few seconds before relaxing back in my seat. I haven’t been driving long. Obviously. And as the first one in our group of friends I am the designated driver. I don’t mind. I like driving. And it’s not like we can drink yet anyway. I look up and Jesse runs out of the house, slamming the front door, a huge grin on his face. I can’t help but smile back before adjusting in my seat.

Jesse hasn’t been out long. Not that we didn’t always sort of know. I always sort of knew. But since he came out… I dunno. He seems happier. Lighter. And tonight is the first party that we’re going to where no one is going to be asking him why he isn’t getting off with some girl or other. No, if everything goes to plan then they won’t need to ask him why, because he’ll be sucking face in the middle of the kitchen. I have no idea why he wants it to be the kitchen. He likes kitchens. He says it’s the best place to be at a party. There’s a song about it, apparently.

He slides into the passenger seat and wiggles his eyebrows at me. I wiggle mine back, because I can’t imagine not, and start up the car. Yes. Tonight has to go to plan. I don’t think I can take another week like the past week has been.

100 Words: That Wink

Prompt: First Line – She didn’t like him

She didn’t like him.

Ok, maybe he wasn’t that bad. He had nice eyes, she guessed. And he only said offensive things when he thought they were funny. He didn’t mean to be an obnoxious arse. He didn’t mean to hurt people. Maybe she wasn’t being fair in her dislike. He hadn’t done anything to her. Was it really fair of her to dislike him? Sure, he was patronising, but he was well meaning. And sure, he was arrogant, but he was very accomplished. And yeah, he smelled, but should she hate him? He winked at her.

Yes. She should.


Prompt: “Who wouldn’t be angry? You stole my car and disappeared! My Shania Twain CD was in that car!” 

I get the phone call two hours after I’ve left. I know it’s Kye even before I look at the screen. He’s the only one who ever calls me. He’s the only one who would notice that I was missing. Not in a self-indulgent self-deprecating kind of way. He’s the only one who actually knows my number, and he’s the only one who I would have seen after work.

Also, I have his car.

“Don’t be angry,” I say, the moment I answer my phone. It’s pointless. I know it’s pointless. He’s going to be angry, because I took his car without telling him, and he really loves his car. Also, we had plans to go and get pizza, and Kye really likes pizza.

“Who wouldn’t be angry? You stole my car and disappeared! My Shania Twain CD was in that car!” Kye shouts down the phone. I hold it away from my ear and wait for him to finish his rant. Of course, I left. I had to.

“I’m sorry. I had to,” I mutter, after Kye has finished. I can hear him sigh down the other end of the phone. He knows. I know he knows. He knows I know he knows. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, his breathing heavy, and I can imagine him rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. I shuffle on my feet and wait for him.

“I know,” he growls eventually. I smile, even though he can’t see me, and hang up.

Spin and Stop

Prompt: a windower

We sat here


watching the world

spin and spin.

You took my hand


read my palm.

I would do great things

You said.

I miss those days

sitting here

you reading my palm.

What great things did I do?

I’m sure you would tell me


you were here.


we would watch the world

spin and spin

and stop.

Reasons Why

Prompt: “I don’t know why you’re upset.”

You never know.

It’s the little things.

The way my mouth twitches.

The slight scrunch of my eyes.

You know.

You take my hand,

wrap your long

fingers around mine.

But you never know.


The Lift

Prompt: Two people are stuck in a lift

It would be best if you didn’t talk to me right now.

It would be best if we weren’t stuck in a fucking lift, but we are.

You’re still talking.

All I’m saying is that we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.

You didn’t have to follow me into the lift—

Sure, I was just going to walk up fifteen flights of stairs.

You could have walked, but no

You’re being ridiculous.

You had to follow me in here, blathering away about some—

Fine! I’ll stop talking.


But, seriously, maybe you should think about exercising more.

Maybe I’ll start boxing.

Oh, don’t start being stupid.

Maybe I’ll start now. Hold still, why don’t you.

You know, this is why I’m the favourite.

You’re the favourite because they think you’re happily settled with a family—


When really, you’re living in sin with Marco.

Shut up.

Oh, I’m sorry, is it annoying when someone points out things that our parents wouldn’t like.

You’re an arse.

And you’re a dick.


Do you think they’ve noticed we’re not there yet?

I should think they probably don’t care.

I’m thinking of not coming to dinner any more…

Oh, that’s a shame, just when I was thinking of bringing Marco.

Ha! You wouldn’t!



He’s starting to think I’m ashamed of him.

He wears vests, I’m ashamed of him.

Very funny.


I was thinking next week?


Will you be there?

Hells yes. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.

Great. Thanks.


I mean, that’s assuming we ever get out of here…

100 Words: The Question

Prompt: person A is trying to tell person B something, but person B already knows because person C told them

I know what Dmitri is going to ask me before he gets down on one knee. Not because I know him better than anyone else in the world. I don’t. Not really. No. I know because Connor told me. I’d like to think he didn’t mean to, but I do know Connor, and I know that he did. He’s been whispering little things to me for my whole relationship with Dmi. Things he probably shouldn’t say, but does. I asked Dmi once why he was friends with Connor. He just smiled. So I already know when he asks the question.


Prompt: “I like your shoes”

“How you doing?”

“I think we’re trapped…”

“Nah, we can get out of here.”

“How? Please, do tell.”

“Give me a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute.”

“Just, give me a minute!”


“One minute!”


“Cam, they’re starting to notice us. We need a plan, NOW…”

“Just. Hang–”

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I like your shoes”

“Thank you.”

“Take them off.”


“Take them off.”


“I need them.”


“Just… trust me.”

“Why should I trust you? The last time you said that I ended up dressed as the back end of a horse.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”


“So… shoes.”




Prompt: trouble

It isn’t my fault. I’m telling you. Ok, so maybe I could be a little more careful, and maybe I sometimes say the completely wrong thing. But at the end of the day I’m a good person. Not a give-all-my-money-to-charity-only-eat-freerange-stand-up-to-bullies good, but a general every day good person. I don’t kick puppies or steal sweets from small children, and I even recycle. So no, it is not my fault. Trouble just seems to follow me.

Like how it followed me to school. If I’d known that the trouble I got into was going to lead to more trouble I would have stayed at home. I should have stayed at home. But I didn’t. Because that would have been sensible. Maybe my lack of sensibility is what makes trouble follow me so easily. Maybe I should be quiet and sweet and only do things that I’m supposed to do. Except I’m a sixteen year old girl, so going to school is absolutely something I should be doing. And just look where it’s got me.

The thing is, the original trouble, Carrie and her fucking love of pyrotechnics, wasn’t my fault at all. Carrie hasn’t liked me since year seven, and there isn’t much I can do about it now. Well, I mean now there’s loads I could do. Like push her in front of a bus. But as discussed, I’m a generally nice person, so I’m not about to push someone under a bus. But if it wasn’t for her… well, I wouldn’t be here now. I’d probably be at home. I don’t know which I’d prefer.

So now I’m here, waiting for an order that may not come and thinking about how it may or may not end. I should probably be preparing or something. Spencer would be unimpressed by my inactivity. I’m unimpressed by it to be honest. But what more can I do? Nothing. So I sit, and wait.

Why am I telling you this? Well, I guess because if I’m going to die I want someone to know the whole story. And trust me, this is the whole story.