Sometimes I have no motivation or willpower to make myself write. Going back through old writing prompts can sometimes spark my imagination, sometimes all it does is give me an excuse not to write a prompt this week. So instead of a new shiny writing prompt, here are some ones from years past.
Prompt: Take a seat
She looked around the DMV, ticket in hand. Every joke about the Department of Motor Vehicles was spot on. No one was happy to waste their morning on hard plastic chairs waiting for their number to flash up on the screen.
She settled in next to an elderly woman, with what looked like a permanent scowl on her face. The woman was on the larger side, a pair of oversized glasses perched on her nose, grey hair a mass of coils. Ticket still in clutched in her hand, she gave a sideways look at the old woman, maybe she was just grumpy because she was missing her morning TV show or maybe her husband had recently filed for divorce and her lover had been sent to some faraway island.
Looking back to the screen, she sighed, there were still many numbers between the one flashing and the one on the ticket in her hand. Tempted to take out her phone but remembered she had left it in the car foolishly thinking this would be a quick in and out.
She should have known better.
She let her eyes follow a nervous looking teenager standing with someone who looked like their father. She remembered her first test. She had failed because of a traffic light.
They didn’t have traffic lights on dirt roads so how was she supposed to know.
Prompt: That’s a pretty dress
They complemented the clothing rather than who was wearing the dress. It was easier to say that the blue satin fabric was pretty than to suggest that perhaps a larger size would fit better or perhaps a completely different design.
She stood facing the mirror. The dress was pretty but would have been better suited for someone many sizes smaller. The fabric felt nice, the cool blue color complimented her eyes, but it was just a pretty dress.
She slipped back into the dressing room, peeled off the blue satin, had to shimmy it off past her hips and left it on a pile on the floor. The next dress was red, it was warm on her skin. She felt powerful in red.
Prompt: It’s not over
The top seemed so incredibly far away. She felt like they were still in the parking lot staring up at the tree line.
“Hey, it’s not over, we’re barely halfway up!” Jon jokingly prodded her side, “The view from the top is amazing!”
“It better be worth it,” Elsa grumbled stuffing down a handful of peanuts, raisins, and m&ms. She stood up from the fallen log, the seat of her pants wet from the moss. Jon smiled, sucked down a gulp of water and poked her again, this time with his hiking pole.
“It will be, the view is so worth it,” he took a step forward, “I’ll buy you a beer when we get back.”
“It better be a good beer,” Elsa muttered, thinking there better be some nachos and wings too.
Hiking was decidedly not her thing. Walking miles uphill, swatting bugs that when killed only stuck to sweaty skin was not her idea of fun. Jon loved it though, so she tried.
Elsa set off once again Jon behind her, rambling on about this other mountain he climbed. She focused on breathing; trying not to sound like this was the worst thing ever.
Her feet hurt, there was sweat in her eyes, her calves were killing. How did people find this fun?