July 3rd, 2020 Writing Prompt

“#7: Pick one of these phrases and, beginning with it, use it to free draft a page:

After supper he would always…” Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narrative Craft 10th Edition by Janet Burroway

“After supper he would always laugh his hearty laugh, slap his knee, then take his plate to the kitchen. I could hardly look at him when he did it. Because I knew the real pain that hid behind those crinkled eyes during the laugh. It was his only way to release some kind of emotion that wasn’t self-destructive.”

“I just wish he could have been honest. That he would let us in just a little bit so that we could try to help. Instead, he would rather laugh off the one moment a day he got to spend with his family. I don’t mean to sound crass, it’s just frustrating when you see someone dying and they keep refusing the IV. It seems that hearing no heartbeat, is better than hearing a faint, weak one.”

“I tried. I really tried getting through to him. All those long, aching nights looking at that façade. It was like adamantium, er, or titanium. Whichever is strongest. I couldn’t break him. He would sit there, like a prisoner of war, staring. A prisoner to his own mind. He would talk about other things to try and change the subject. I’d turn it back to him, but he would continue with the topic he used to change the conversation.”

I look up and down the corner of the empty room, then to the one way window showing at the surface, my reflection. “I don’t know what you want me to say detective.” I say grim, “I tried helping him, but he wanted to serve himself, his mind. The voice that says with voluptuous lips: ‘You’re dead, and you’re mine.'”

Published by magicmayheim

Magically Creative Minds

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