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Is Anyone There?… (Writing Prompts)

Writing Prompts

Reminder of what's up since most of us have had other things on our minds:

Every week Clan Destine's going to try to get inside your head. Get in there and help you write. We're going to prompt you with a phrase, a couple words, some colours and a weird image and then we're hoping you take it from there. And so…

Is anyone there?

Do those words bring to mind the echoes of an old and empty house? A sterile space station, white, pristine, and silent? Who's saying it? Or are they? Is it a dream? Are they human?

What?

What?

What's the story here?

Is Anyone There?… (Writing Prompts)

 

Every week we mean to inspire you and now more than ever we may need to get out of our heads and get words on the page.

And, in a perfect world we'd love you to share those words here, too. Whatever this image inspired, jot it down in the comments below. What do you see? What did you imagine?

Whatever it is, be assured that your words remain yours top to bottom, left to right. By posting it here you're just sharing it with the rest of us, maybe inspiring us with your inspiration. But the story stays yours.

So…

Won't you tell us the story hidden behind those words up there, those colours bright and dark? Tell us who calls and why.

Tell us a story.

More Like This…
When They Found It
Eye of the Beholder
The Truth Is
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  • Anarion on

    Did I just take a wrong turn again ?

    I feel like I have been wandering empty corridors for weeks now. Everything looks the same. The walls are white, the floors are grey, there is no colour anywhere. No people either. Where is everybody?

    I should have found my way back again by now. I lean against the wall and then slide down ungracefully, until I can rest my head on my knees. I sit there for a few minutes, waiting, hoping.

    But there is no hope. No noise, nothing.

    I pick myself up and follow the next white corridor, opening doors on either side that only lead to dark and empty rooms.

    The next door I open is gonna be the last one. I’m done.

    I open the next door and suddenly there is a voice.

    “Marc. Seriously? I just sent you to get me some X-rays from Dr. Gern and you disappear for almost 40 minutes? What did you do? Take a nap?”

  • Yennifer on

    The x-ray can’t be wrong again, I know it can’t.

    Still, I came back to the doctor’s office but I’ve been sitting in the waiting room for twenty minutes and no matter how often I call out—"Is anyone there?"—no one answers. Somehow I’m not surprised.

    So I just keep looking at the envelope on my knees and this is the third time, the third time I’ve got the same images back.

    The x-ray, it’s of me, my insides, what’s happening in there after I started feeling…something. Shifting. Heat. Growth.

    I think I’m changing inside.

    I think I’m about to…bloom?

    I’m not afraid.


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