Jay- Day 342 (642 Things To Write About {Not Really})
Okay, I have this book called 642 Things To Write About. Yes, 642. So I decided to write down some of the prompts and complete them! Here we go guys!
Write a "Dear John" letter, breaking up with your high-school sweetheart who's in the army.
Dear Arthur,
I miss you. I really do. But- But I can't handle it. I thought I could, I really did. I thought we could make it work, with you in the army and me back here in the States. But its so hard. So, so hard. Skype calls and letters aren't enough anymore. I love you, I really do. But I thinks its time to separate. To- To break up.
Sincerely,
Allie
You're the high-school sweetheart from the above prompt. Write your reply to the breakup note.
Allie,
I- I don't want to leave you. It's only been a year. I'm coming home in a month or two, I think. Sorry it took so long to reply. My cam was attacked and I was injured. Please, don't break up with me. I love you so much. J-Just please, stay. Can you last one more month? One more? For me?
Love,
Arthur
You've had a really rotten day, you're mad at the world, and in an evil moment you decide to give a classroom full of impressionable, hopeful young writers all the worst possible advice anyone could give.
I slam my hand on my desk, grinding my teeth in pure anger. I hate everything right now. All my student's works, my hair, the smell of the room. Everything.
Hearing my students enter, I jerk my head up with a faint growl. One of them, Thomas I believe his name is, raises an eyebrow, shrugs and hurries to his seat. Standing up when they're all seated, I pace in front of them, eyes glaring and hands clenched.
"Alright, I'm in a horrid mood, so don't sass me today, got it? Now, you all probably want advice, correct?" At least half of the class nodded happily, eyes shining with hope. "Well then, here's some advice. Kill everyone. Even the little boy who helps the protagonist. Have the protagonist end up being bad, oh, and for effect, have him be the one that kills everyone. Make your book a huge cliffhanger, and never, ever, have the climax at the end. Have it in the beginning of the second book, actually. In a battle, have them randomly burst into song. Make the antagonist the father. It must always be the father. Have the protagonist be a girl, because I'm sexist. Have all the characters have unoriginal names like Bob or Carl. Make each death simple and unoriginal as well. The usual suicidal mission or life-giving type. By the way, you're all going to fail at life. Is that all?"
(Noelle: is this a poke at RMS?!!)
(Maybe....*Looks left to right in a totally casual way before running off*)
How your cat sees the world (I'm making this Cat-Austin, who you don't know.)
Stretching my fluffy white paws, I yawn, revealing white teeth and a pink tongue. Rolling off the human cushion, I trot over to my food bowl, the food box standing guard over it like a huge momma cat. Licking my lips, I gobble up some pellets, their dry taste filling my mouth. Lapping up silver water , I then proceed to head to master's door. She's most likely sleeping, as I can pick up her soft snores. Huffing, I push my bulk against the white wood that blocks her den. Pushing it open with my almighty strength, I pick my way to her nest, her scent wafting towards me. Meowing, I huff and puff my way on top of her white colored nest, making my way to her sleeping form. Her chest rises and falls slowly, her pink skin covered by the weird pelts humans use to cover themselves. Blonde hair falls around her face, and her blue eyes are closed. Purring, I hop onto her stomach and nuzzle it adoringly. I love master. She's so nice.
~~~~~~~~
It's high-sun, and master is taking me to her work. She works in a big silver bird that she calls the Helicarrier. My big, fluffy white head sticks from the top of her pelt nest, my ruff making me look like a lion. Yawning, I poke her side, earning a scolding in response. We get to the bird by flying in a much, much smaller bird. Maybe the Helicarrier is it's momma bird?
~~~~~~~
Its nighttime, and masters almost asleep. Padding onto the nest next her, I soothe her as she cries. Master cries a lot, though I don't know why. Maybe it's because she's lonely? But I'm here, she can't be lonely! Can she?
Death is like this...
When you die, you remember. You remember your first crush, your favorite cartoon as a kid, even your first pet's name. Even the day you were born, your first ray of light, the first dark reaches of night.
Then, if you were a good person in life, you emerge from your memories into a blissful light. It's all warmth and comfort, the feeling of a gentle mother after a bad day. The caress of your lover against your cheek, a gentle kiss from your mother or father. The bark or meow of a long deceased pet. The kindness of an old friend spreads through your body like the taste of your favorite food. Then, your new. You are recreated as an animal, or plant, or person. And the cycle continues, for eternity.
If you were bad, spiteful, horrid even, then you emerge into blackness. Cold, harsh emptiness. The feeling of a harsh slap, or especially rough scolding comes to mind. You can see light, a small pinprick, far off into the distance but every time you reach, spread out your fingers and blindly reach, you are tugged, pulled, and dragged back into the overwhelming darkness. Voices of pain, anger and despair ring in your ears, and your worst nightmares come to life. Some are able to reach that small dot of light and be recreated. Some...are not so lucky.
You are a loser who lives alone with a cat and have for quite some time. One day your cat can't take it anymore and starts talking. What does it say?
I petted my cat softly, my eyes peering out the window to a world I dare not enter. Not with the leg braces or the just gotten over schizophrenia, or lack of sleep. Carrier, my faithful companion, shifted in my lap, his stomach tickling my fingers. Giving into his needs, my fingers danced along his fur, weaving song lyrics and patterns on the white of his tummy. Watching as the postman delivered the paper, I felt Carrier get up into a sitting position. Turning, I looked down at him in confusion.
"You. Why are you in here and not out there?" He said, flicking an ear in the direction of the window. I was not shocked, per say, more upset than anything really.
"You very well know why, Car." I snapped back, eyes slitting. I was not a very likable person, to be honest, and this sleek brown and white creature in front of me was my only friend. Huffing, he batted my cheek.
"Well, I don't, so tell me, idiot." Rolling my eyes at his comment, I pointed to my forehead and leg braces in turn. The cat laid back down, giving me an almost sad look.
"At least go outside." He suggested hopefully as he leaned up and started playing with a strand of my hair. People always said I was handsome, but I never believed them. I don't thing wavy brown hair and big blue eyes hidden by huge glasses are handsome, really.
Getting to my feet, I grab my crutches (whish I still needed after all these years, sadly.) and shuffled over to the door, Carrier following at the same pace. I fumbled with the door's lock, but eventually opened it. I slowly, ever so slowly, made my way down the patio steps and down the driveway, not really paying close attention to my surrounds. You could say I was somewhat of a daydreamer.
"Hey! WATCH OUT!!" A voice called right as someone ran into me. Falling, I heard the clang as my braces met concrete, and the thump of someone else following. Immediately, I opened my eyes I(which had been closed) and met a pair of lively green ones trained on my face. My face flushing bright red, I shuffled back, letting her get to her feet. Carrier sat a little ways away, an almost smug expression closing his muzzle. The same muzzle that I want to snap right now.
"Omigod! Are you okay?!" The girl, who looked to be the same age as me, swept a lock of golden blonde hair away form her face, green eyes wide with concern. Nodding mutely, I half-crawled, half-shuffled my way over to my crutches, my hands immediately finding the rubber handles. The girl noticed and helped me get up and situate the metal rods underneath my arms.
"Hi! I'm Calysta, but my friends call me Cali." She held out a hand, which, with my crutches, was hard to accept, but I did it anyways.
"Lukas." I mumbled back, looking down. She gave me a dazzling smile and nodded to my house.
"So your that hot guy that always look out the window to that house with his cat, right? I see you on my walks sometimes." I blush widely, looking up at her with a shocked expression. Did she just call me hot?!
Noticing me embarrassment, she waved a hand. "Don't worry, I don't think your weird. I think its kind f cool that you have so much time on your hands.....I was wondering, since we met so suddenly...you wanna go out sometime??"
Still dazed, I nodded and gave her my own smile, to which she blushed to. Carrier meowed, signaling me to move. I turned away and looked at Calysta out of the corner of my eye as I walked back up the patio steps. "See you around?" I said so only she could see.
She hurried over with a sheet of paper I hadn't noticed before. "My number." She mumbled, kissing me on the cheek. Shoving the paper into my grasp, she then ran off, her hair flying behind her in a golden curtain.
I guess going outside isn't so bad after all, especially if your cat makes you do it.
Well then, if you want more prompts, just ask! And if you want to try your hand at someone these, go ahead! Guten tag!
Write a "Dear John" letter, breaking up with your high-school sweetheart who's in the army.
Dear Arthur,
I miss you. I really do. But- But I can't handle it. I thought I could, I really did. I thought we could make it work, with you in the army and me back here in the States. But its so hard. So, so hard. Skype calls and letters aren't enough anymore. I love you, I really do. But I thinks its time to separate. To- To break up.
Sincerely,
Allie
You're the high-school sweetheart from the above prompt. Write your reply to the breakup note.
Allie,
I- I don't want to leave you. It's only been a year. I'm coming home in a month or two, I think. Sorry it took so long to reply. My cam was attacked and I was injured. Please, don't break up with me. I love you so much. J-Just please, stay. Can you last one more month? One more? For me?
Love,
Arthur
You've had a really rotten day, you're mad at the world, and in an evil moment you decide to give a classroom full of impressionable, hopeful young writers all the worst possible advice anyone could give.
I slam my hand on my desk, grinding my teeth in pure anger. I hate everything right now. All my student's works, my hair, the smell of the room. Everything.
Hearing my students enter, I jerk my head up with a faint growl. One of them, Thomas I believe his name is, raises an eyebrow, shrugs and hurries to his seat. Standing up when they're all seated, I pace in front of them, eyes glaring and hands clenched.
"Alright, I'm in a horrid mood, so don't sass me today, got it? Now, you all probably want advice, correct?" At least half of the class nodded happily, eyes shining with hope. "Well then, here's some advice. Kill everyone. Even the little boy who helps the protagonist. Have the protagonist end up being bad, oh, and for effect, have him be the one that kills everyone. Make your book a huge cliffhanger, and never, ever, have the climax at the end. Have it in the beginning of the second book, actually. In a battle, have them randomly burst into song. Make the antagonist the father. It must always be the father. Have the protagonist be a girl, because I'm sexist. Have all the characters have unoriginal names like Bob or Carl. Make each death simple and unoriginal as well. The usual suicidal mission or life-giving type. By the way, you're all going to fail at life. Is that all?"
(Noelle: is this a poke at RMS?!!)
(Maybe....*Looks left to right in a totally casual way before running off*)
How your cat sees the world (I'm making this Cat-Austin, who you don't know.)
Stretching my fluffy white paws, I yawn, revealing white teeth and a pink tongue. Rolling off the human cushion, I trot over to my food bowl, the food box standing guard over it like a huge momma cat. Licking my lips, I gobble up some pellets, their dry taste filling my mouth. Lapping up silver water , I then proceed to head to master's door. She's most likely sleeping, as I can pick up her soft snores. Huffing, I push my bulk against the white wood that blocks her den. Pushing it open with my almighty strength, I pick my way to her nest, her scent wafting towards me. Meowing, I huff and puff my way on top of her white colored nest, making my way to her sleeping form. Her chest rises and falls slowly, her pink skin covered by the weird pelts humans use to cover themselves. Blonde hair falls around her face, and her blue eyes are closed. Purring, I hop onto her stomach and nuzzle it adoringly. I love master. She's so nice.
~~~~~~~~
It's high-sun, and master is taking me to her work. She works in a big silver bird that she calls the Helicarrier. My big, fluffy white head sticks from the top of her pelt nest, my ruff making me look like a lion. Yawning, I poke her side, earning a scolding in response. We get to the bird by flying in a much, much smaller bird. Maybe the Helicarrier is it's momma bird?
~~~~~~~
Its nighttime, and masters almost asleep. Padding onto the nest next her, I soothe her as she cries. Master cries a lot, though I don't know why. Maybe it's because she's lonely? But I'm here, she can't be lonely! Can she?
Death is like this...
When you die, you remember. You remember your first crush, your favorite cartoon as a kid, even your first pet's name. Even the day you were born, your first ray of light, the first dark reaches of night.
Then, if you were a good person in life, you emerge from your memories into a blissful light. It's all warmth and comfort, the feeling of a gentle mother after a bad day. The caress of your lover against your cheek, a gentle kiss from your mother or father. The bark or meow of a long deceased pet. The kindness of an old friend spreads through your body like the taste of your favorite food. Then, your new. You are recreated as an animal, or plant, or person. And the cycle continues, for eternity.
If you were bad, spiteful, horrid even, then you emerge into blackness. Cold, harsh emptiness. The feeling of a harsh slap, or especially rough scolding comes to mind. You can see light, a small pinprick, far off into the distance but every time you reach, spread out your fingers and blindly reach, you are tugged, pulled, and dragged back into the overwhelming darkness. Voices of pain, anger and despair ring in your ears, and your worst nightmares come to life. Some are able to reach that small dot of light and be recreated. Some...are not so lucky.
You are a loser who lives alone with a cat and have for quite some time. One day your cat can't take it anymore and starts talking. What does it say?
I petted my cat softly, my eyes peering out the window to a world I dare not enter. Not with the leg braces or the just gotten over schizophrenia, or lack of sleep. Carrier, my faithful companion, shifted in my lap, his stomach tickling my fingers. Giving into his needs, my fingers danced along his fur, weaving song lyrics and patterns on the white of his tummy. Watching as the postman delivered the paper, I felt Carrier get up into a sitting position. Turning, I looked down at him in confusion.
"You. Why are you in here and not out there?" He said, flicking an ear in the direction of the window. I was not shocked, per say, more upset than anything really.
"You very well know why, Car." I snapped back, eyes slitting. I was not a very likable person, to be honest, and this sleek brown and white creature in front of me was my only friend. Huffing, he batted my cheek.
"Well, I don't, so tell me, idiot." Rolling my eyes at his comment, I pointed to my forehead and leg braces in turn. The cat laid back down, giving me an almost sad look.
"At least go outside." He suggested hopefully as he leaned up and started playing with a strand of my hair. People always said I was handsome, but I never believed them. I don't thing wavy brown hair and big blue eyes hidden by huge glasses are handsome, really.
Getting to my feet, I grab my crutches (whish I still needed after all these years, sadly.) and shuffled over to the door, Carrier following at the same pace. I fumbled with the door's lock, but eventually opened it. I slowly, ever so slowly, made my way down the patio steps and down the driveway, not really paying close attention to my surrounds. You could say I was somewhat of a daydreamer.
"Hey! WATCH OUT!!" A voice called right as someone ran into me. Falling, I heard the clang as my braces met concrete, and the thump of someone else following. Immediately, I opened my eyes I(which had been closed) and met a pair of lively green ones trained on my face. My face flushing bright red, I shuffled back, letting her get to her feet. Carrier sat a little ways away, an almost smug expression closing his muzzle. The same muzzle that I want to snap right now.
"Omigod! Are you okay?!" The girl, who looked to be the same age as me, swept a lock of golden blonde hair away form her face, green eyes wide with concern. Nodding mutely, I half-crawled, half-shuffled my way over to my crutches, my hands immediately finding the rubber handles. The girl noticed and helped me get up and situate the metal rods underneath my arms.
"Hi! I'm Calysta, but my friends call me Cali." She held out a hand, which, with my crutches, was hard to accept, but I did it anyways.
"Lukas." I mumbled back, looking down. She gave me a dazzling smile and nodded to my house.
"So your that hot guy that always look out the window to that house with his cat, right? I see you on my walks sometimes." I blush widely, looking up at her with a shocked expression. Did she just call me hot?!
Noticing me embarrassment, she waved a hand. "Don't worry, I don't think your weird. I think its kind f cool that you have so much time on your hands.....I was wondering, since we met so suddenly...you wanna go out sometime??"
Still dazed, I nodded and gave her my own smile, to which she blushed to. Carrier meowed, signaling me to move. I turned away and looked at Calysta out of the corner of my eye as I walked back up the patio steps. "See you around?" I said so only she could see.
She hurried over with a sheet of paper I hadn't noticed before. "My number." She mumbled, kissing me on the cheek. Shoving the paper into my grasp, she then ran off, her hair flying behind her in a golden curtain.
I guess going outside isn't so bad after all, especially if your cat makes you do it.
Well then, if you want more prompts, just ask! And if you want to try your hand at someone these, go ahead! Guten tag!
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