This NaNoWriMo – also known as National Novel Writing Month – I have decided to kick off #ThoughtfulThursdaysWithJas.Sometimes, we as writers can get stuck. An exercise like this is great for resetting your mind and getting those creative juices flowing. Besides working on a novel, I am going to spend this November doing various writing prompts, which I will showcase on most – if not all – Thursdays this month.
I hope you enjoy whether you’re a bookworm or not!
The first #ThoughtfulThursdaysWithJas writing prompt comes from Writer’s Digest. The prompt that I chose instructs you to write a story about a situation where plans go awry in 500 words or less. Here’s mine:
“Hello? Who’s there?” I say as a subtle knock at the door comes to a halt.
I straighten up the back of my wrinkled pants and look through the peephole.
It’s just Ayana.
I casually open the door, slumping my body back down to its normal stance.
“You could’ve at least answered back,” I say as Ayana comes barging in my house, dropping her purple velvet backpack right in front of me.
“I was a little busy,” she says as she plops the sandwich from her mouth into her hands and takes a large bite.
“Where is he?” she says as she’s chewing.
“He’ll be here,” I muster up the confidence to say.
Though, I don’t feel very confident at all. I’ve been waiting for hours. The sun is fully down. The moon has set.
“Sure he will. He said that the last time,” she sarcastically mutters, pulling her book bag closer to herself and spreading out a ton of papers onto the kitchen table.
“You better clean that up,” I look out the still cracked window, catching a faint reflection of my worried eyes looking back at me.
“He’s not coming!” I exclaim, shutting the blinds.
“It’s okay, Jayla. He doesn’t deserve you,” Ayana says, wrapping her arms around me.
“He said this time would be different,” I say, my vision growing blurred under the weight of my tears.
All of the memories of us overwhelm me. They shuffle through my mind at supersonic speed. The love, lies, laughter, and distrust plague my mind at the same time that I can’t even differentiate the good from the bad.
“I know,” she says.
I pull away from her, her eyes looking just as worried as mine.
“I’m okay,” I lie.
She gives a polite smile and sits back in the chair.
“Physics?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say, trying to focus on the big test tomorrow and not on the toxic relationship that I just can’t seem to let go of.