Calling all creative writers! This is a column run by Liv Akers and Mariah Lumsden to inspire readers to write. The column includes writing prompts, pieces by the coordinators, and occasional submissions from readers.
This month: Some anonymous poetry and two short stories from Casey Leigh and Nathaniel Lee.
Below are a set of prompts for different styles of writing beyond journalism. The idea is that you can create some kind of creative writing piece inspired by one of the prompts, but it doesn't have to be. You can submit any piece of writing you would like to share! All submissions should be school-appropriate. You can also suggest prompts to be featured in the next issue.
Here are some prompts to inspire your writing this month! If you try one, let us know how it goes. :)
1) From a reader: Describe the feeling you get when you’re around someone you have a crush on.
2) From a reader: You're the world's best photographer. Your secret? You can freeze time.
3) Have you ever walked into a room and forgotten what you’d entered for? Sci-fi / fantasy writers, give me your most imaginative response for what causes that phenomenon.
4) What would someone assume about you if all they knew about you was what you have in your camera roll?
5) What do you think the world looks like ten years from now? Fifteen? Twenty? Thirty? Explore the future of Earth, your life, or the universe.
If you have any prompt ideas in mind that you haven't seen on here yet or would like to see someone else respond to, drop them in the Google Form below and they'll be listed in the next issue!
“You’re going to get me killed,” one of the hooded figures on the roof said.
“If you die, it’s your fault, not mine,” the other person said.
“You’re too relaxed. With a job like this, you need to be ready for anything,” the first person said. They pulled down their hood and blonde hair cascaded down their back. The girl looked about eighteen and had bright green eyes. The other person pulled down their hood, too, revealing short, curly brown hair. The boy looked about eighteen, as well.
“Yira, you need to be more relaxed. You’re so tense, if I were to shove you off this roof, you’d shatter like glass.”
“Qith, be quiet. The target is approaching.” They pulled up their hoods and walked to the edge of the roof. Qith attached a rope to an air conditioning unit and tied the rope around his waist. Then, he jumped off the roof and dangled next to a window. Yira joined him, and they watched as a man entered the building.
“Udar Enderson,” Yira said. They watched Udar walk over to a computer and push a button. Lights flickered along a conveyor belt as it began moving. Robotic arms began putting something together.
Their earpieces crackled to life, “The Invisible Blades have sent something in. Get out of sight.” Immediately, Qith and Yira started pulling themselves up the rope. As they reached the top, an enormous explosion from inside the factory shattered the window and made Qith fall. His rope snapped, and he held his hand out towards the roof. A glowing rope appeared and he grabbed it with one hand.
“Seriously?” Yira said, “Get up here.” The rope pulled him up and he brushed himself off.
“I knew what I was doing,” Qith said. Suddenly, a metal hand burst through the roof a few feet from where they stood. As the robot pulled itself through the roof, Qith pulled down his hood and held out his hand. A metal band on his left wrist and a metal ring on his right hand began to glow. The robot pulled a metal staff off its back and swung it at them. It bounced off a glowing sphere that appeared around Qith and Yira. As the robot stumbled backwards, Qith picked up the AC unit and smashed it over the robot’s head. It collapsed to the ground as Yira grabbed it and threw it off the roof.
“Let’s go,” Yira said. Qith nodded as the building continued to burn from inside.
“Why does this always happen?” Qith said as they jumped off the roof and landed in the parking lot.
“You’re always too relaxed, so we get surprised,” Yira said.
“Who’s the one that just saved you?” Qith said. “I’m relaxed because I’ve got these.” He held up his hands, showing off the metal ring and bracelet.
“Just because you got the Wrist and Ring doesn’t mean that you can use them as an excuse. Some of us had to actually work to get promoted.”
“Are you saying I didn’t work?” Qith asked.
“I’m saying that the only reason you got promoted is because you were lucky once!” Yira exclaimed. A metallic clang echoed across the parking lot. They looked and saw the robot walking towards them. It picked up a car and hurled it at them.
“Talk later, fight now,” Qith said. A sword appeared in his right hand. “Let’s dance.”
To be continued…
I’m Sandra Morris, and today is just like any other Friday before Valentine’s Day here at Johnson and Quail Incorporated. I’m sitting here at my desk, trying to make my final bit of work last as long as possible. I would rather not head to my apartment just yet, inhabited only by me and my dog. Single as I am, I enjoy the candy that is popular this time of year. The candy hearts with the little messages may not be my favorite, but nor are they awful. Also, if I’m honest, they’re about the only candy I still have left, and that’s only because they showed up on my desk this morning. It’s not like I eat my lonely feelings, oh no, of course not. Even I roll my eyes at that. I really do enjoy when my snacks talk back to me, though. This heart says, “Hello Beautiful.” Why, thank you little candy! Down the hatch you go! This is the last of the filing and organizing I have to do, and I must say, this alimony case is not exactly riveting. For the boredom, I’ll inhale another heart. “You are wonderful.” How sweet. Now, if only something or someone other than a candy heart and my sweet pup would think so.
Well, one-fourth of the way through the labeling, time for a sip of water–must be at least a little healthy–to wash down yet another candy. “Will you?” Did some of this candy wipe off? That isn’t the typical message on these, and if anyone should know, it’s me. Back to work. Now, how to make this file organizing last until 10PM? By then, even the security guard from down stairs will be so anxious to go home he won’t ask me if I have plans this weekend. I don’t want to answer that question anymore. “Meet me.” Hmm, this candy must have faded, too–how old are these?
Oh shoot, I’m nearly three quarters of the way done. I’d better take another candy break. “For dinner.” Um, is this for real? Are these candies giving me a message? No, I must be imagining it! Just to be sure though, I’ll have another one. “At Alonzo’s.” Wait, that is a restaurant I’ve always wanted to try, but they’re always booked…and they are a local place, it’s not a chain restaurant! “Love Ray.”
Thank heavens I've finished my cataloging! I have to get down stairs before my creative admirer gets nervous and cancels our reservations. Mr. Ray Williams, our very shy but handsome security guard is as creative as he is sweet. Even sweeter than the candies he made and placed on my desk on this not so typical Friday before the best Valentine’s Day of my life!
falling rain comes down
as gentle as a cat’s paw
soon to be a storm
-
it has a certain feeling
a cat and gentle rain
with the smell of growing leaves and warming tea
and the sound of the soft drum of a heartbeat
putting your mind at ease and your world at peace
while you sit and take in the air around you; damp, wet, warm
like the hug of an old friend who you don't recognize
and can only identify by the way they eat their noodles
it’s a certain feeling
the way you grip a sword you’re never going to use
almost as tightly as those you’d seen before,
inspired by the smell of wood when it hasn't rained in ages,
and you can feel its bones ache
or how you sleep after a meal with those you love–
not romance or family, but those who love you for everything
the fire in your stomach to protect all these things because they are you
and you are all of these feelings
you have a certain feeling
