Wednesday Write-in #90

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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

jungle  ::  matchbox  ::  sparrow  ::  hog  ::  mull

Guidelines

There are no rules, but here are some guidelines:

  • 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.

Get Involved

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Any questions? Otherwise, have fun writing!

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54 thoughts on “Wednesday Write-in #90

  1. It was the the matchbox challenge at school that started it all off. For two weeks, I mulled over the type of objects I wanted to store in the miniature suitcase I was packing.
    A cut of material from an old pair of zebra patterned shorts I had. I wrote on my itinerary it represented the jungle.The smallest feather I could find indicated my desire to fly.
    A French stamp that I cut from a postcard from a pen pal (I had only continued correspondence with him for this purpose. Of course, I didn’t tell the old The Old Bag that.) represented my desire to communicate in the various languages of the world.

    The school mistress went the whole hog giving me a lollipop for my efforts and telling the class my matchbox collection was not just a collection of fluff and tiny bric-a-brac, like theirs, no, mine was in a different league entirely, mine was poetry!

    At home, with satisfaction, I sucked on the lollipop until it was orange goo hanging from a stick. I half opened the second matchbox I had set about filling, just enough to allow two legs like wiry hairs to poke out from it, and I fired the sticky substance inside before closing the little chamber over.

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  3. The Beetle
    ‘Stop hogging the remote – I want to watch the play, not some idiots pretending to survive in a fake jungle. By the way, did you know Sam had a beetle in a matchbox in his bedroom?’
    ‘Record it. I want to see how that big girl with the hair gets on. Was it still alive?’
    ‘No, quite dead. He wants to take it to school.’
    ‘Oh look! She’s got to eat a fried beetle! How disgusting!’
    She stepped out onto the patio. The sparrows were having a field day in the bird-bath as she stood there mulling over her thoughts. If she left him one perk would be watching whatever she liked on the box, she thought grimly. But on the other hand, who would make sure Sam and his beetle got to school on time?
    With a sigh she went back inside. It was time to get the tea ready.

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    • The report was very interesting I agree

      I liked the story and I’m sure it will not be the last in the line

      Odd that vampires were conceived in folklore as ageless individuals all those years ago and that ‘Bram’ Stoker formulated his tales around the myth

      Your story is very chilling I thought, far more scary than Dracula

      Roy

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    • ‘house trapped sparrow’

      So true

      I liked it very much

      What happened to that story about the school that had banned children’s parties unless all the class were invited?

      Roy

      • Glad you liked it. I’ll have to look up that story. Thanks for reading.

  6. Here is my short piece written yesterday after I had returned from a very good day out with friends and celebrations

    Maybe I just felt safe enough to write on this subject

    Prompts #90 7th May 2014
    jungle :: matchbox :: sparrow :: hog :: mull

    Depression

    Some days I feel like a sparrow, nervous tiny colourless insignificant and vulnerable. Even this beautiful garden seems to be a dangerous jungle of stinging insects and rare diseases desperate to permeate every fibre of my being. My whole life it seems could be condensed into a matchbox of tiny thoughts, unrealised ambitions, failed relationships, and selfish superficial experiences I once thought were wonderful. It is not good to continue to mull over the past in this way, it would be so easy to escape, hog the last dredges of attention and leave.

    • Such a collection of great imagery and emotion. I think everyone can relate to the tiny matchbox of thoughts and unrealised ambitions – at least, I can. Great work, Roy.

    • This is a wonderful use of the prompts, although I’m glad I’m not feeling depressed while I’m reading it! (I presume the ‘escape’ and ‘leave’ refers to suicide?) I really like the ‘last dredges of attention’.

      • Thanks Elaine

        Yes you are right. Suicide is I suppose the ultimate way of walking out and it certainly will draw maximum interest of intrusive, voyeuristic, curiosity from the dregs and little sympathy from the hardened others.

        See you at Carmen’s first day on the 16th

        Roy

    • The more your narrator will look and mull over the past, the more it will consume him. Perception of happiness is different for everyone, but past for sure is past. Enjoyed this short story!

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