Guten tag, Arcians. Put on your rain boots and rain coats and bring your umbrellas and note pads. It’s going to be a downpour and something doesn’t feel quite right tonight…
Bonjour, Arcians. Salut, achoo and gesundheit. Pencils at the ready, erasers cleaned and brightly pink? Well what are we waiting for then? We have a trip to Fairy Land today.
Hello, Arcians. Are we ready to write? Let’s do this. For June’s first prompt, we’re taking a drive through the woods. Bring your snacks and hop in. We’re going on a road trip
Greetings, Arcians. How are we today, my fine feathered friends? Bind and gag your self doubts and fears and leave them at the door. We’ve got some writing to do. Don’t forget to read all the directions, as I usually change up Rule #5 as questions to answer in your writing.
For this month’s second prompt, grab your goggles and eye drops. We’re going flying…
Good morning, Arcians. Confidence ready? Check your doubt at the door and let’s dive in. If you don’t want to publish online, write your prompt in a notebook only you can see. Badda boom, badda bing. Let’s begin.
This month’s prompt is quite stirring…
Good afternoon, Arcians. Pencils ready? Check your doubt at the door and let’s dive in. Even if you don’t feel quite ready to publish your writing online, participate the old fashioned way with pen and paper. It’s fun and one of the only ways you’ll become a better writer. Feel better? Then let’s begin.
You’re at a restaurant, a rather posh and open air setting within an art museum. There’s lots of greenery and plants with ivory colored marble floors and tall Grecian pillars. You are attending a museum gala and are donating funds to help the museum complete some renovation projects. There are about seventy tables scattered around you, with more in the adjoining ballroom.
A waiter brings you your soup and carries away your finished salad plate. There’s nothing quite like a five course dinner before a night of dancing and art perusing to put a bounce in your step. You feel at peace and satisfied. You’re seated in the very far corner of the room and can people watch to your heart’s delight
From your table, you begin to hear a man start to argue with one of the museum staff. They’re trying to help their voices down but fortunately for you, you can hear every word because of the odd acoustics in your area.
“I placed it there–I know it! The emblem, it’s gone!”
“Keep your voice down!” the other man cuts in. He’s dressed in a very sharp suit with a red tie and has his hair combed back. He darts his eyes around the room and you pretend to dab at an invisible soup stain on your sleeve.
“It’s got to be here somewhere. But we need to find it before midnight tonight. That’s when the gala and ball ends. Otherwise we’re all goners…”
Take it from here. The rules are below.
You’re at a burial, dressed in shoes you didn’t have time to polish or lace up correctly. It’s a grey sort of day, overcast with rain coming soon. They’re lowering the casket into the ground and all you can do is stare at the stubborn knot in your shoelaces.
Someone lights up a cigarette after the service is over and you move away to avoid the smoke. Your heels slip into the soft ground and you get mud on the hemline of your clothes. You stop to catch your breath after a long day and close your eyes. You smell rain in the air.
There’s a piano you can hear in the nearby chapel playing a soft tune. You think they’re playing “Amazing Grace” and then it changes. A sudden thought strikes you: “I must get back into the car before the last note. Once the last note plays, it’ll start raining.”
You’re heading back to the car when you see a man standing at the fence. He’s dressed in overhauls and a flannel shirt, looking directly at you. You glance away but are drawn back by the man’s intense stare. He’s holding something in his hand. A letter? A book? You can’t tell. You feel you must find out, before the last piano note…
Take it from here. You don’t need to be Hemingway or Dickinson to participate. Just write. The few rules are below.
First of all, a big thank you to Steve and Muffin for the nomination. I read their blog almost daily, particularly when I need to relax and help my mind wind down after a long day of work. If you like animals, Canada, country living, along with some good humor and interesting escapades, check out his blog and subpages. It’s good medicine. 🌷
And don’t forget about Muffin’s page. If you do fail to visit, she just might shred those lovely shoes you’re wearing. And nobody wants that, do they?
Two weeks ago you came across a sewing pin in a restaurant, a neat restaurant, mind you, that was set inside a historic house. You’re waiting for your vegan meal when you spot the pointy fiend on the floor. You pick it up to save someone’s foot and…wham! You’re transported through time and, what’s that? You’re getting married? Read the comments in that entry to see the endings people came up with for this pointed tale. (See what I did there?)
So let’s get to it. This week’s prompt. You’re at a movie theater, yours to describe. You got your tickets scanned with the beep-boop laser gun and you’re granted access into the dimly lit movie theatre hall. You’re waiting to go into your theatre room when a teenager comes out of a side bathroom and suddenly stares at you. He places himself in the middle of the hallway and spreads his arms out to either side, standing perfectly still, legs tightly together. Your eyes drift away in embarrassment and then drift back, assessing the situation. You sense he’s playing with you and waiting for a response. You don’t sense a threat. So you respond.
“Are you flying?” you ask, ever so bluntly.
The teenager shifts and you sense a crack of embarrassment seeping through his act. Clearly he didn’t expect you to confront his odd behavior and so politely.
“High as a kite,” he responds.
He lowers his arms, grins, and begins to walk away. He disappears, directly through a solid wall. You’re the only one who saw him, you realize, and the wall is still shimmering where he went through. You decide to follow, wondering what on earth just happened and what this guy’s deal is. The movie can wait for the moment…
So writers. What do you find? What happens? And more importantly, did you order me a pretzel? No butter or dairy, please. That vegan thing is real.
The rules are below. No winners/losers, per usual. I’m really curious to see the directions you’ll take with this. Pass the pretzel, wouldn’t you? You’re hogging it.
While you’re here, hit that subscribe button and stick around for awhile. We’d love to have you at Peregrine Arc. 🌷
A few weeks ago you came across a time traveling sewing machine in pretty peculiar circumstances. We had just one entry, but the author took us places. I appreciate the writer taking part in the Creativity Contests so regularly. She’s been working hard on developing her writing and exploring her imagination. I want to give a a special thank you to Anneberly Andrews. ✏️ Thanks for your support!
For this week’s prompt, we’re at a restaurant for lunch. One of those local businesses, with an antique fireplace in your favorite room to eat in. The restaurant, you see, is inside a very old house, one with a murky, somewhat spooky, history. The restaurant is even part of the village’s ghost tour at Halloween time every year. But that’s all nonsense, right?
You order yourself a nice vegan meal, sit down at a table for one and crack open a book. You’re about to dig in when you spot something on the floor. It’s an antique sewing pin, very rusty but still sharp. You pick it up, concerned someone will step on it and injure themselves.
A woman comes up to you just then. She’s dressed in a black and white gown, a very poofy affair with a feathered hat. She’s shouting to someone behind you to hurry and get dressed for the wedding. What wedding? Who’s wedding? You have no idea. And what happened to the restaurant? You’re inside a very posh bedroom and there’s oil lamps burning steadily on the walls. More importantly–what happened to your lunch?!
Before you can ask any questions, a maid appears, then two, and soon you’re stuffed into a corset, petticoat, tights and a very elaborate wedding gown. It looks like you’re the bride.
You break out of your stupor and begin to make a run for it, but the door closes and you hear a tear. Out comes the sewing pin…and it looks oh so familiar.
“That’s enough of this nonsense, Beatrice”, the woman says to you curtly. She was the one who closed the door, you realize. “You’re marrying William Foxglove and that’s all there is to it. Come on girls, the ceremony is at eleven, you can sew the veil in the carriage…”
Take it from here. What on earth is going on? Are you really getting married? Or did you eat a bad piece of garlic in your meal? And what’s with the sewing pin? Only you can tell us. Good luck! ☺️
The rules are below. No winners/losers, per usual. I’m really curious to see the directions you’ll take with this. Pass the hummus, wouldn’t you?
While you’re here, hit that subscribe button and stick around for awhile. We’d love to have you at Peregrine Arc. ☘️