Wednesday Write-in #66

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Welcome to the Wednesday Write-in!

Welcome to the Wednesday Write-in. This event runs every week to help any and all writers take control of their productivity and imaginations. Please join in; we’d love to read your work.

Prompts

spirit  ::  cold hard cash  ::  dirty  ::  medicine  ::  collar

Guidelines

There are no hard and fast rules, but here are some brief guidelines:

  • You can use the prompts as inspiration or try to work them into your story somehow. Use as many as you want.
  • When your story is done, post it online (your blog/twitter/in a comment here), tag with #wednesdaywritein if you like, and comment with a link so we can read it.
  • Please take the time to read and comment on as many other stories as you have time for (but we won’t shout at you if you don’t).
  • If you want to write a poem, a script, or something completely different, feel free.

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Read our Previous Issues and check out the Submissions page if you’d like to be a CAKE.author!

Any questions? Otherwise, have fun writing!

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19 thoughts on “Wednesday Write-in #66

  1. 12 August 2004*

    “Did’ja forget your medicine or sometin’?”

    “Nah, why’d ya ask me a question like that, Hoagie?”

    “Because in the history of dumb ideas, dat one is the undisputed champeen of da world.”

    Mutt’s finger traced a subconscious circle on the dirty table. It wasn’t just the table that was dirty, the entire place screamed filth and oozed despair. Even the roaches were desperate to escape.

    “What’s so wrong wit tinkin’ ‘bout the future?” The hurt was evident in Mutts voice.

    Hoagie looked out the grimy window. The streets were quiet save a few delivery trucks out on morning rounds. “Cuz guys like us ain’t got futures, what we got is nutin’ but cold hard cash.”

    What good was cash, Mutt dared not say, if you ain’t got no future? “Listen, Hoagie, I’m tired of workin’ da streets. I’m tired of dealin’ ta every tweakin’ freak who needs a fix. I’m tired of wonderin’ if I’m ‘bout ta get my head blown off every time I turn a corner.”

    He was right, thought Hoagie, but couldn’t find himself able to picture any situation where they could ever escape this life. He crushed the empty styrofoam coffee cup and crossed the thread-bare green carpet. “God, dis place stinks!”

    “Dat’s what I been sayin, Hoagie.” Mutt stood up and held his gaze firmly on his friend. “It ain’t gotta be dis way. We take da cash from our next score and do like dem guys said.”

    “I dunno. How do we know dem guys know what der talkin’ about?”

    “You saw de fancy cars and de tips dey leave. We’re talkin’ cold hard cash AND a future.”
    Hoagie stood silently playing with his collar. “But dey don’t sell anything!” he complained. “How can dey make any money? Can you imagine if we just gave our stuff away?”

    “I’m bankin’ on dem coffee shop boys.”

    Hoagie relented, “Okay, but I am warnin’ ya, if dis ting goes south yer numbskull is gonna get split inta two. We’ll buy dis Google stuff.”

    “Dat’s de spirit, Hoagie, dat’s de spirit. I got a good feelin’, dis is gonna be our game changer.”

    Hoagie wasn’t convinced, but he secretly hoped Mutt was right.

    He was, beyond their wildest dreams.

    *One week before Google became a publicly traded company.

  2. Harry talked dirty for cold hard cash. He called himself Doctor- they loved that: old guys wheezing on the other side, married guys checking round for their wives.
    Between beers, he talked himself hoarse. Harry told himself it was just his telephone voice. Nothing to do with real life.

    But he kept his mouth shut to his mates. Kept shtoom about it to his sister. It never appeared on his Curriculum Vitae.

    He’d put all behind him when something better came along. He wouldn’t take up Bill’s offer to up the ante again. That was just that once.

    It wasn’t anyone’s business anyway he said to himself.
    And that’s all it was. Business.

  3. Hey everyone,

    All five prompts in 36 words.

    It was dirty and dispiriting, but the offer of cold hard cash, money she could use to buy the medicine her father desperately needed, was enough for her to slide the leather collar around her neck.

  4. Pingback: Properly Dressed | patrickprinsloo

  5. (Sorry, a bit late and a bit rushed.)
    In the cold light of dawn it wasn’t pretty. Dirty plates were stacked in the sink and a couple of empty bottles had rolled under the table. They’d been knocking back the vodka hard, hoping the spirit would raise theirs, but in the end it had been like forcing down medicine.
    Dan looked at Emma snoring on the sofa. Definitely not pretty. He pulled on yesterday’s shirt with the fraying collar and picked up his keys. Someone had to get out there and get some cold hard cash.

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