I decided to show you all some writing prompts created by yours truly. Just a warning: they’re all rather weird.
The first two are a bit long, but all the rest are only one-to-three sentences long.
1 I clutched my sister’s hand, my tears plunking against her pale skin. “Finish my work,” she whispered. Her last words.
I didn’t nod, didn’t promise that I would. She didn’t know that it was impossible for me to finish her work. I hadn’t told her that I didn’t have her powers.
I was only human.
2 I placed my hand over my heart, and instantly my senses were flooded with sadness. I quickly jerked it away, and my thoughts returned to normal: music and TV shows, among other things. Gingerly, my fingers touched the spot again — my heartbeat thumped against my rib cage. Tears pooled in my eyes as the thoughts all came rushing back.
The unbearable pain.
3 One day, I decided to be brave. That’s how all this madness started.
4 “Would you like to drink this poison?”
“What kind of a question is that?!”
5 She gave him that “I’m going to die” look, full of desperate pleading, before disappearing into thin air.
6 Half of the world’s population were fierce warriors. The other half had unnatural healing abilities. She was a deadly combination of both.
7 When I was six, the world was saved. Seven years later, it needed saving again, and I was finally old enough to join the Patrol.
8 “Are you willing to sacrifice yourself to keep the world safe?”
9 Was this how it was going to end? After all my dreams of a final battle, was I going to go down without a fight?
10 A strange tingling sensation washed over me, starting at the fingers and then fanning out. I opened my eyes and called for my friend, reaching for the chain. And then everything went black.
11The sword slashed through the air, glinting wickedly in the moonlight. It stopped with a snap, the razor-sharp tip pointed unmistakably at my heart.
12 The plate slipped out of my hands and fell with a clatter to the stone floor. I struggled to see through the thick fog cloaking the figure. Was that . . .? It couldn’t be. She had been dead for years. A melodious whistle soared through the pines.
There was no doubting it now.
She was back.
13 Moonlight spotlighted the young woman as she touched the slender bone bow to the worn violin strings. Haunting music notes danced across the lake. A swirl of wind blew the pages of sheet music away, but she had played the same melody for so long, she didn’t need them . . .
Which prompt is your favorite?
(Image belongs to abarefootgal.wordpress.com)