This writing came from a "popcorn writing" exercise with Esther. The words that were used in both of our stories as a result of the activity are underlined in this one. For more info on how to do popcorn writing, see our writing section.
Something from nothing, at once everything there is - this is the story of life. Be a tree, firmly rooted, thirsty, arms outstretched. Find the light with eyes accustomed to darkness. Learn to swim, even though the water terrifies you. Sleep enough, but try not to sleep too much. Listen to the raindrops.
This writing is based off the prompt "I remember."
I remember your face, from somewhere. But I don't know where. I can't place you with certainty in any single memory or general chapter in my life. Were we children? Was it a dream? Were you crossing a New York street when I briefly registered you walking toward me? I just don't know.
It's dark in here, this corner bar in the middle of nowhere, Beloit, Wisconsin. The jukebox leaves everyone looking a little red in the face. But those eyes. They recognize me too, I can somehow sense that now. My heart rate picks up a bit as you approach me.
"Hi ... do I know you?"
This story came from our anagram activity. We started with a word - catastrophe - and from that made as many words as we could. We came up with a list of nearly 100. I used all of those words in the (rather silly) story below. For more info on this exercise or for other ideas, check out our writing section.
A forest to a man standing outside looks like but a line of trees. It's a visible wall behind which the world lies still and in front of which man rules all.
This writing is based off of the prompt "Why is Ian struggling to steer his car?"
I-55, he needs the turnoff for the I-55. It's fucking freezing out, and he's driving with the top down, in his underwear. He's flying on five bottles of South African red wine, feeling steamy, but his fingers are numb.
This writing is the result of a "popcorn writing" exercise with Esther.
Every day, Ellie walked up the hill. And every day she rolled herself back down. On some days, the clouds rolled in above her and soaked the hill with rain. She'd take off her clothes and roll down anyway, for lack of anything to hold onto. In the wintertime, it was covered in ice, and it was dangerous. Ellie knew a boy once who died flying down on his sled on Christmas Eve. Ellie didn't know him after that.
Chicago-born citizen of the globe, rich in the things that really matter. Let's get weird.