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Is the phrase "Once upon a time..."
Overused
March's Writing Prompt Empty33%March's Writing Prompt Empty
 33% [ 1 ]
Underused
March's Writing Prompt Empty67%March's Writing Prompt Empty
 67% [ 2 ]
Total Votes : 3
Monthly Writing Prompt
For this month's writing prompt write a scene using the following sentence to start;

The streets were deserted. Where was everyone? Where had they all gone?

Writing Tip
Our monthly writing tips are written by our very own TerishD. You can read more in Terish's Blog located in "The Abstractions" area of the forum.

Look Back

When not able to write ahead, it helps to look back. In my case I had written a paragraph ahead of the story. What I needed to do was add a section of exposition (talking) presenting some facts. In going back, I realized that I could insert a section where a 'tour' of the surroundings could be done. This allowed for character interaction, story development, and other things that enabled me to present the facts in an entertaining manner.

One should not face a writer's block with the mentality of bursting through it. I have found in my own experience that a writer's block is usually due to my mind indicating that it has a problem in 'channeling' the story. One reason might be a re-imagining of certain story points. Another reason however is that there is a problem in where you are at in the story, so you need to look back and find out the problem with the 'journey' that prevents the tale from advancing.

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 March's Writing Prompt

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Snacker

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PostSubject: March's Writing Prompt   March's Writing Prompt Icon_minitimeMarch 1st 2009, 9:26 pm

This month's prompt is all about pet peeves.

"What's your number one pet peeve? Develop a punishment for anyone caught in the act. "


Remember that it's just an exercise, and it is up to you to post and share it with us or not.

Good Luck!

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alexandra

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PostSubject: Re: March's Writing Prompt   March's Writing Prompt Icon_minitimeMarch 2nd 2009, 9:04 am

As you guys know, I can only do stories, I can't do personal stuff...(you really don't want to know what I'd do....)

What do you think you’re doing?

By Alexandra Riera


©️ 2009 Alexandra Riera



"What do you think you’re doing?"


"Isn’t that obvious?"


Peeved would be the last word she’d think of right now as she was more than peeved off, she was actually fucked off by this. She couldn’t understand it, she thought they had reached an agreement, no more phone talking when they were out enjoying the precious little time they had together. If they lived together and worked together and were together twenty four hours a week, seven days of the week, she could understand it, but they only saw each other once a week. That was it, there was no excuse. This was the last straw.


"Excuse me for a moment", Martina told him as she got up.


Francois just nodded at her as she left the table of the restaurant. His eyes followed her as she went to the bathroom and he relaxed a little more, he leaned back on the chair and carried on talking on the phone while he played with his food. He knew she would take a while. That really peeved him off, it was always the same with her, always going to the bathroom half way through their meals to re-do her make up. He wondered what he saw in her apart from the beautiful body she was lucky to have and him lucky to possess at least once a week. One of these days he’d do something about it like fuck it for a whole week.


Minutes later, a waiter came up to Francois and told him he had a call on the restaurant’s land line. Just as he was getting up, Martina arrived.


"Where are you going?"


"I’ve got a call."


"Right."


She sat down at the table and noticed that his jacket was hung at the back of his chair. She changed seats. She searched his pockets and when she found his wallet, she took it together with his keys. "That should do the trick" she thought. She got up and left the restaurant.


Francois returned to the table only to find her gone once more. He decided not to wait for her to come back from the bathroom; he ordered the table to be cleared and deserts to be brought to them. "She won’t mind, she hardly eats, anyway," he thought as he waited for the deserts. When the desserts came he was back on the phone and when he finished he dug into his chocolate volcano wondering why Martina was taking so long this time. He asked the waiter to check the ladies. "There might be something wrong with her, she never takes that long", he told the waiter.


The waiter came back and told him that there was no one in the bathroom and that one of the sommeliers had seen his date leaving the restaurant earlier.


Francois was stunned. She had left him there, "but why? What was wrong? She could have told him something". He asked for the bill and when he went to get his wallet he realised that it wasn’t in his pocket; in any of his pockets for that matter, and his keys were missing too. He panicked. "Was he going to have to do the washing up?" Then, the phone rang.


"I want to fuck you; I want to fuck you now."


"Where are you? Where’s my wallet? …. And my keys?" he asked into the receiver.


The waiter, who had just brought the bill, turned around and went to look for the manager who called the police.


"I want to fuck you now" Martina told him on the phone and then hung up.


The waiter came back to the table accompanied by the manger, a sombre looking man who didn’t look happy at all. "You seem to have a slight problem, sir." The manager told him.


"Well, yes… hummm, let me explain…" The phone rang again and he picked it up. "Excuse me a minute please", he told the manager. "Yes!" he shouted into the phone. "Martina! That’s enough! …. Oh, sorry, sorry, Tom, I thought you were Martina…. No… I mean… yes.. I was supposed to be with her but…" The manager took hold of Francois phone and spoke into the receiver. "I’m afraid that your friend here is a little busy and can’t answer the phone."


Francois tried to take the phone back but the manager pocked it. "So, how are we going to solve this little problem sir?" the manager asked him as the waiter put himself behind Francois to make sure he didn’t leave the restaurant.


Just then, a pizza delivery man entered the restaurant. "Mr Francois Hummont?"


"What?" asked the manager?


"I’m Francois Hummont."


"I’ve got a delivery for you. You said the food here sucks and wanted to show this place what real food was. Here’s your pizza, sir."


Francois didn’t have time to answer; another delivery man had just come in, this time, carrying boxes of Chinese food. "A delivery for Mr Hummont!"


Francois was sweating now; everybody was staring at him and at the delivery men. The phone rang again.. Francois made to pick it up but couldn’t, he didn’t have it. "Please, let me answer that call." He begged.


"No." said the manager with a smile on his face. "How are you going to pay for all this?"


"I don’t know! Please let me use the phone…"


"A phone call for a Mr Hummont" shouted a sommelier.


Francois looked at the manager with tears in his eyes. "Please….."


"Oh, alright…"


Francois ran to the restaurant’s phone. "Yes!"


"I want to fuck you."


"Yes.. me too… ok. Enough… enough… come back… I won’t pick up the phone anymore. I promise!"


"Excuse me, Sir."


Francoise turned white when he saw that a policeman was just interrupting his call. "Martina? Are you there? I’ve got to hang up, I’ll call you as soon as I can." He turned around a little bit, put his hand over his mouth, "…and I want to fuck you right now", he said softly into the phone. He put the phone down and faced the policeman.


"I’m really sorry about all this confusion. It’s all my fault."


"Well, yes, of course it is.." said the manager.


"So.. what’s going on then?" asked the policeman.


Just then the restaurant phone rang. "A call for Francois Hummont, again." Said the cashier.


"Tell whoever called that I can’t take the call." Said Francois.


The cashier went back to the phone and spoke into it. Two minutes later, she came to the manager and told him something in private.


"Your bill has been paid together with the deliveries. You can go now but never come back here again," said the manger.


Francois went to get his jacket and as he was leaving the restaurant, the manger handed him back his phone. "Thank you," Francois said as he put it in his jacket.


As the door of the restaurant closed behind him, a taxi arrived. "Hey! Fancy a fuck?"


"Most definitely! In the taxi?"


"And… why not?"


"Just one thing…." He said as he got inside. "Let me turn this damned phone off first."




The end


(1189 Words)


©️ 2008 Alexandra Riera


March 2nd - 2009


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HYdraMStar

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PostSubject: Re: March's Writing Prompt   March's Writing Prompt Icon_minitimeApril 1st 2009, 5:15 pm

Hmm, I had to give this one some thought. I have many pet peeves and many ideas for gruesome punishments, but I thought for this forum something special and in season, as it were, was in order.

If you have not been unlucky enough yet I'm sure as you go through life, maybe in your pursuit of higher learning, you'll come in contact with a quoter. A quoter is a person who no matter the conversation, no matter the argument sprinkles their talk with quotes. Usually they do it to make a point, to "win" the debate off the merits and respect the person or group holds of someone else. Often though they quote a person either long since dead, who's opinions are thereby out of date, or figure whom is either unknown to the person(s) they are addressing or so little is known about them that it cannot be fully judged if they are/were someone who's opinion is/was worth listening to in the first place. It is annoying.

If a person cannot make a point or win the day without every time resorting to pulling out a quote and leaning on the ideas and arguments of other then they shouldn't speak. Or at the very least they shouldn't debate.

The ideal punishment for a quoter would be, in my opinion, to rig up their brain somehow to where all they can speak are quotes. Every question they are asked would be answered with a quote. I'd love to see them order off a fast food menu with only the quotes of dead actors and political figures for words. I dare say they would never be understood by anyone ever again, nor win any arguments, which is no less then they deserve.
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