BET YOU CAN’T do this writing prompt. Take the 10 random words below and, in the comments, crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story tying all of them together! And remember: after (if) you finish, highlight your words and click the bold button to make them stand out and help you determine if you forgot any words. (If you’ve missed previous writing prompts, we BET YOU CAN’T do those, either.)
- Eyes of a stranger
- Gumbo
- Contraband
- Meadow
- Shimmer
- Nude
- Fall on me
- Dolphin
- Sidestep
- Death
NOTE: Don’t copy and paste from MS Word. Use a program like notepad that removes formatting or just type in the comment field itself. Also, finish your submission, THEN bold the words. Thanks.
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In which James gets some…
“Fall on me.” She tugged at his head, giving him a sultry smile from where she lay, arching a touch when he traced a lazy finger down her nude body.
James gave her a slow smile back. “I already did.” He would never have guessed how easy it was to become captivated by the eyes of a stranger. And yet, here he was in bed, smoking contraband pot with the woman he’d met on the street, a sidestep to protocol for sure.
He’d catch hell from central headquarters if they found out.
“Time to get back to work.” James sat up and scrubbed his hair. “If I stay here any longer, it’ll be the death of me.” He glanced back at the woman over his shoulder, noticing how the glow from the fishtank in the room gave her skin a faint shimmer.
God, he wanted her. Again.
He stood abruptly, snatching up his shirt from the chair. “I have to go.” It was the one with a bright blue dolphin emblazoned on the front. “If I’m not at the meadow at five…” Shit. It was 4.30 already.
But damn she was tempting. “You wanna hook up later? Get a bowl of gumbo or something… ”
“How about a helping of what we had for lunch?” She arched an eyebrow in invitation.
“You’re on.” James grinned. “Maybe I’ll even have extras.”
FANTASTIC!
My favorite in the series. Damn James, have you ever written fiction before? You and Sonia are blowing me away.
As a matter of fact… I own this joint right here: http://www.escapingreality.ca
That’s really neat…and a good design, too.
Wish I had time for Escaping Reality. Seems like a lot of fun.
In my dreams, I’m a nude extrovert, hung with shimmering poise, immune from judgements that fall on me from the eyes of a stranger.
Confidence is my contraband. Check me out bitches!
In reality, I sidestep human interaction like a runningback avoiding the linebacker. One-on-one conversations are death personified, and my mind is a gumbo of fear, a fear so loud it’s like dolphin sonar in surround-sound stereo.
In reality, I want to hide somewhere… in a quiet meadow perhaps… or behind past achievements maybe … or better yet, behind these words.
Wow
Nice!
Nice job, Shane. I love “a gumbo of fear” – can’t quite say why, but like “dolphin sonar in surround-sound” it just catches the imagination.
Thanks buddy. Sometimes these phrases just write themselves.
Like auto-pilot, I just put it in auto-write and sat back and let it happen.
“nude extrovert”
“Confidence is my contraband.”
Love it!
As he stared across the bridge he looked into her eyes, empty again, like the eyes of a stranger to him. He crossed the gap between them and inspected the cargo she was caught with; the contraband proved to be what he worst feared. “My love what did you think you could do with all of this?”
“I thought I could keep us alive, now if you stand in my way it will mean death to me and those around us.”
Detaching herself emotionally, she sidestepped his grasp. “We both have jobs to do, mine is making sure we continue.”
He closed his eyes for a long moment before asking “Where is your delivery?”
“Celtra three, in the meadow that sits alone on the southern island. The stars shimmer across the grass, day or night there. When the dolphin like creature appears, so will our ‘partner’.” Her eyes met his briefly. “We had gumbo there once.”
“Yes. I remember the location.” He groaned thinking about that place, remembering the last visit they made and how he enjoyed her nude body across his. After a few moments he came back to the present. “What are the instructions?”
“This is my job, the drop off will fall on me. You can wait on the ship until the job is complete.”
He studied her features and her expression a moment longer, aching for this not to happen, before relenting. “I’ll order the helm to set course.”
Welcome aboard!(Pun intended). Great 1st submission, and on a cargo ship of all places.
Great job.
Everyone welcome Catrina to the CCC. Hey, how did you find the challenges, Catrina? Just curious.
Twitter – i want to say #amwriting hashtag seemed like an interesting challenge and I can only write so much of my freelance stuff at a time ~ so took a welcomed break and gave it a shot.
I’m glad you liked it. — I think I’ll have to work on the line breaks better next time though
That’s cool. I just recently found the #amwriting hashtag. I can’t believe how many talented writers are out there. I’m following them all.
You can work on your line breaks in CCC#16
without a doubt I will. This is a great exercise. Thank you for the challenge.
there are many many great writers on twitter – you can also use the #writechat hash tag to get more attention over to this great tool.
I keep tweetdeck open all day w/ the two hashtags and scifichat also and just respond and interact and BRAINSTORM as possible. it’s a lot of fun and very productive when you’re having a stumped day.
It’s ironic you would mention the #writechat hash. I just found that one today. I’ll use it to tweet about the challenge in the afternoon. Thanks.
Welcome Katrina, it is wonderful to have you!
Thank you Sean – I know ur avatar from Twitter…
this was a fun challenge i’m looking forward to doing more w/ it.
Mark sat on the bench near the hundred year tree. He dragged his fingers over the extreme detail of the carvings.
Probably donated by the class of twenty-four or something.
He looked at his watch once more.
8:15
It was the first day of the spring semester at Meadow Brook University. New and returning students were hurrying past Mark on their way to buildings and classrooms across campus. Mark would grab a random student with his eyes and follow them until they left his peripheral vision. With everyone in their rushed state, no one paid him any attention.
Some SB ignored him when passing out her sororities’ rush gumbo cook off.
Would anyone miss her?
He took his eyes off the female student and started following a guy on the cell phone. Cell Phone seemed agitated. He was expressing his frustration with whoever was on the other side of the phone by waving his arms wildly slicing the air. Cell Phone’s eyes locked with Mark’s in passing, but continued on his way.
He followed Cell Phone with his eyes as he walked towards Shepherd Hall.
It looks like we have a winner. What fate will fall on me in this building?
With Cell Phone closing in on the front door of the building, Mark stood up, adjusted his coat and slung his backpack over his shoulders. It took him about forty-two seconds to reach the door. He turned around to see the courtyard relatively clear. Everyone was in their class. Everyone was in their place. He entered the building and the doors slammed behind him. A shimmer of hope in his pathetic life was about to unfold.
The hallway longed forward and was empty. The walls were bare and nude to any hiding spaces or detractors.
Perfect.
He looked to his right, saw the fire alarm, and pulled.
The alarm blared in a steady slow tempo. Mark smiled and reached both hands into his jacket.
Let’s see who is going to be first.
A girl with her ponytail sticking out her cap comes out of the room up on the left.
Congratulations, Pony Tail!
Mark pulls his hands from his coat and points a 9mm contraband pistol at Pony Tail.
Blam!
Pony Tail falls. More students start exiting out of the other rooms.
Letterman Jacket. Dolphin Notebook. Goth Chick.
In unison with the raging alarm.
Blam! Blam! Blam!
All three fall.
ROTC Cadet. Fat Girl. Old Man. Another ROTC cadet.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
It’s only been fifteen seconds since the alarm had been pulled and the hallway is full. They see Mark standing at the entrance with weapons pointing at them and the panic sets in like a train wreck. Pajama Pants screams, side steps a fallen body and starts running the opposite way into the throng of other fish sitting in the barrel.
Still in unison with the alarm, Mark fires into the mass.
Cornrows. Gay Guy. Old Navy. Hispanic Chick.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!
Suddenly, Mark feels his ribs crack and then notices that he is lying on the floor. His vision goes blurry as his head crashes against the linoleum. He looks up and sees a figure standing above him. He hears mumbling, but the alarm and the screams makes it impossible for him to make out what Blurry Man is saying.
Mark squints and focuses on the man. His eyes meet the eyes of a stranger. Or is it?
Cell Phone?!
Cell Phone is holding one of Mark’s guns.
Is he threatening me?
Mark smiles and raises his gun at Cell Phone.
BLAM! BLAM!
Mark’s chest begins to feel with blood as it empties from his chest.
Cell Phone the hero.
With death all around him, Mark’s vision goes black and joins them.
wow! that’s … frightening to consider.
Eric, If I could frame this one, I would!!!! OUTSTANDING!
Your naming of people by the objects they had was priceless. I don’t believe I’ve ever read someone take us so clearly into the mind of someone that was about to commit a cold, calculated mass murder as well as you just did.
catrina, this was actually the hardest thing I’ve ever made myself write. It was really tough to keep going and force myself to finish. It wasn’t about coming up with ideas, just trying to separate the reality that this could represent.
shane, this is actually a story that i was writing for a comic book series that I never got around to doing. i appreciate the positive feedback.
Eric, you translated the perspective so well it was an intense read all the way through.
Hurry up and finish that comic before someone else does.
i’m glad you enjoyed it catrina.
shane, i just need someone to take a chance and illustrate it for me.
Don’t know if it’s his style, but David Wright (@bloggerdad) does comics. He could at the least perhaps tell you some of his illustrator buddies that might like to take a “blam” at it.
Shane’s right, this one deserves a frame.
Le Petit Morte – the little death – is what the French call it. That moment when the briskness of lovemaking ends, the shimmer of lust falls from the moment, and you find yourself no longer nude, but simply naked and staring into the eyes of a stranger. In the best cases, one sidesteps the awkwardness and attempts to share in the mutual camaraderie of thieves, having both just stolen a moment or two of transcendence from life, smuggled it like contraband across the threshold of pedestrian everydayness.
But not this time. She wanted the dolphin to rise again, to fall on me, and to shake the meadow with round two (of how many I do not know). Me? I just wanted a nap and big bowl of Gumbo.
Jeff. Your best yet, man! Love what you did with Dolphin and meadow here. It read as if you had fun writing this one.
What a truly wonderful opening line! Loved it.
Take a look at where 10 random words have taken us today thus far:
An assassin’s romp in the hay
A writer struggling with the insecurities of life.
A mass murderer on campus
A covert operation involving a cargo ship.
The death of love making, French style.
This is why I love the CCC!
When I agreed to be a guest judge in the Louisiana Backwater Gumbo Cookoff I did not realize that I would be the only one from sunny California, where cooking health conscious cuisine has become a way of life.
I guess they brought me in to have the eyes of a stranger and catch any ingredient that might not be meadow-fresh, you know, like that old fish that has a rainbow shimmer of putrefaction when the light hits it. Yes, it would fall on me to spot contraband delicacies, such as aged dolphin lips or gator assholes.
The one to watch would be that sleazy woman from the French Quarter who boasted her own pay-per-view cooking show, “Maybell, Shrewd and Nude with Attitude”.
Certainly,tasting all this food from unknown sources would be quite interesting and hopefully by taking my probiotic pills and lots of water I would be able to sidestep death in my intestinal tract.
Margaret! You had me at gator assholes!
Super funny and a great, entertaining write.
I bet you grinned the grin of all grins as you hit that submit button didn’t you?!
Thanks, Shane, can’t help it….just have a sick and twisted sense of humor.
I like Maybell, Shrewd and Nude with Attitude! I’d watch that show!
Its counterpart is Leroy, crude, lewd, nekkid dude. (I might watch that one)
It depends on what kind of shape Leroy is in!
on a cooking show? I’m betting lots of rolls, buns and a big salami!
Of course! hahaha
It was like that Wyeth painting. A girl in a meadow. Only this time, the girl was bleeding out.
You can sidestep death if you’re smart. Amber wasn’t smart. She was gullible. That’s why she was there in the first place. She was naive. That’s why she tried to run.
Now, she was dead. Or on her way. Dinky shot her in the gut three times and walked away.
I saw it from the kitchen window. I was making gumbo from contraband dolphin meat. They didn’t believe in the laws in the book or the laws of good taste. My roux was caramel brown.
Just like her.
I wanted her to stand up again. To walk back to the house. To fall on me with a kiss before she disappeared.
That’s not the way it would go, though. They’d make me clean up the mess out in the field after dinner. I’d do it, too. I’m smart.
I imagined the way she must have been when Dinky found her onstage at Perfexxxion. The oil and glitter making her nude body shimmer as she danced for the approving eyes of a stranger with cash.
The wrong stranger.
Carson, you are on fire today too, man! Excellent write.
I can’t believe all the awesome-sauce I’m reading today.
Hands down, my favorite use of gumbo in the thread!
The shimmer of the lake in the mountain meadow beckoned me. It called to me, “Shed your inhibitions, strip off everything, come to me.”
I looked around to confirm what I already knew. I was alone in the remote mountain range. The eyes of a stranger could never pry and spy and find me bathing nude. I was hot and really craved a refreshing dip.
My trip up the mountain pass had been one sidestep after another along the precipice. I had felt death brush past me several times. My thoughts kept returning to the cargo I was carrying–precious medicine for the natives in the small village that was my destination. It was technically contraband, according to the government on this forsaken planet. I didn’t care. These people needed this medicine or they would die!
I sat down near the lake, stripped off my pack, shed my clothes, and ran to the lake. I dived in and slipped through the water, happy as a dolphin in the cool, refreshing liquid. Playing in water had never felt so good!
As I left the lake, a soft rain began to fall on me. I broke out the tent in my pack and took shelter as I ate my MRE of gumbo and rice. I would camp here tonight and hike the final leg of my journey in the morning. Tomorrow I would deliver my precious cargo and complete my mission.
Karetha, that was a great piece. Your submission perfectly relayed to me the feeling of this woman liberating herself from ANYTHING standing in her way. Just a woman who’s decided to say “bleep it” and do some livin’. I like that.
this is fantastic!
Shedding velvet she and her lover sidestepped in the meadow nude in the shimmer of starlight in the gumbo of their passion driven by her Butterfly Effect scent.
“Fall on me,” she cried, “I feel sleek as a dolphin!” Neither knew of the eyes of a stranger that marked them for death because of the contraband.
might be my shortest yet.
Anne, for you to include two words from the previous challenge into something so short and cool, is fantastic.
The title is your so far.
Yes, the last three I’ve done, including this one, include 2 words from the previous… I may have a novel going or something.
btw, npr’s 3 minute fiction contest may be of interest to some here
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=123719741
I was on a fishing charter trip several months ago when I caught the eye of a stranger looking at me. He was munching on Gumbo and was partially nude. I tried to sidestep him as I walked along the ship but somehow my missteps made him fall on me and that is when I saw that there was contraband on board. Trying to avoid trouble I gazed out on the water and caught the shimmer of water as a dolphin splashed by. For some reason I thought back to a lovely meadow I saw when I was in my early teens, a meadow that reminded me sadly of my grandfather’s death.
Toni, that’s quite an intriquing snippet of story you gave us here. It had a “Dead Calm” type of feel to it.
ps. Congrats on the publication of your new Julia Knight book.
Thank you, Shane. I’ve always been intrigued by mysteries that have a shadow of intrigue. Such stories frighten but also gently pull me to them. Thanks also for your words on my new Julia Knight book. Julia’s quite a character but deadly!
Toni
Cecily sat cross-legged on her bed, meditating. She imagined herself in a meadow full of purple and yellow wildflowers. The sun was shining, heat made the air shimmer.
But then Joe stumbled in. He tried to side step the car that hit him as he ran away from her. Was he mortally wounded after she stabbed him or was it the car that caused his death? According to the DA it was assault with a deadly weapon. His were the eyes of a stranger as his life ebbed away.
Back to the meadow. Bring your thoughts back to the breath. She lay nude in the sun this time, stretching like a cat in front of a fire, languid. Her imagination drifted towards a batch of perfect gumbo, like Joe used to make, steaming, full of spicy fresh shrimp. She was pulling large heavy bowls out of the cupboard when he started to tickle her. ”Don’t let those fall on me,” he begged. She was laughing, wriggling, juggling the bowls.
Back to the breath. Maybe a beach setting would be more effective. Watch the dolphins jump for joy. Cecily sighed. This was not working. She wondered what kinds of contraband her cellmate had today.
I love Cecily! And I hope to read about her undertakings in the next CCC, too. Nicely done Loran.
Have you ever stared in the eyes of a stranger,
Shining and shimmering with death and with danger?
Did you sidestep uncertainty or wrestle that risk?
Hurdle the hazard, or slip away – brisk?
I’d like to share now, this tactic that’s cool
It will help you stay safe if you follow this rule:
Memorize this tip, then if you ever fall,
On me and these words, you surely can call
Please heed your instinct – it knows what it’s saying
There’s a part of your mind that is always surveying
Searching for things that are not adding up
If it seems a bit off – should you listen? Well, yup.
A dolphin in a meadow, that you wouldn’t see
Or a car that is parked at the top of a tree
But the concept holds true in real life as well
You might need to fight or to run or to yell
But never stay frozen or fixed in one place
Don’t dig your heels in and stare into space
Your brain will tell you what you need to hear
Control contraband feelings and wrangle your fear
Shrimp inside gumbo or nude under clothes
There are feeling ingredients that tingle your toes
Only you know what feels really wrong or right
In the bright light of morning or pitch black of night
You must always listen to the voice in your head
Your instinct weaves fabric from all your life’s thread
Shrimp inside gumbo or nude under clothes
There are feeling ingredients that tingle your toes
Indeed Master Platt! Thank you for sharing your literary threads with us.
I like the interweaving of words in this poem. Makes you stop and think for a minute. Good stuff
I’ve been sick with the flu this weekend, so if this one seems a little “out there” that’s why. I kinda like it, though. Hope you do, too.
I feel death shimmering all around me. The eyes of a stranger glance at me over a bowl of contraband gumbo as I sidestep a dolphin statue. ”Don’t fall on me!” says another stranger, strangely nude in my peripheral vision. I fall anyway, into a soft meadow of flowers. Ahhh…., that’s nice, I think to myself.
Kool Aid, As I’ve taken quite a few meds this last two months, I can relate to this completely. Makes sense to me.
Good one for sure. Made me laugh.
“Eyes of a Stranger” By Nude Gumbo was playing on the radio as he lay in the meadow watching the dolphin playing on his contraband iPad. The shimmer of the sun in his eyes, he thought to himself, “Fall on me Death! Don’t sidestep. Just get it done and over!”
Cleve, welcome to the best addiction in creative writing land. Great first submission. I love how your story took a twist toward the dark at the end. At first I thought it was all happy stuff until “fall on me death.” (which by the way is the best line).
Everyone welcome Cleve to the awesome.
ps. How did YOU find us? Just curious.
Thanks Shane & Sean. Like Catrina I saw the link on Twitter #writechat. I’m glad I did. I’ll go back and try some of the prior challenges as well. For this one I was trying to put the words in the shortest story I could. Fun exercise!
Welcome, Cleve. It’s good to have you here!
“Fall on me,” I whispered to my dolphin lover lying next to me in the meadow. “We need to wait for high tide to return, so we might as well enjoy our remaining time together.”
Nude of water which created a death in my loins, I tried to stay focused as the waning rays of sunlight created a shimmer on Hannah’s glistening blubber.
I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined the eyes of a stranger looking back at me.
Like Fred and Ginger doing the sidestep, Hannah and I enjoyed each other’s company. The other dolphins in our school just knew we were right for each other since the day we met.
Oh, how I recalled that first week! Life as a dolphin was different then. I had returned from a spelunking trip among the plankton and she was on the other side of the reef. Sonar told us a tour boat was somewhere above us, so we flipped them with splashes. The memories!
Life was kind to us over the decades. I wondered whether we’d be able to experience our final years together under the sea or be raped and sold as contraband.
She sensed my thoughts and leaned down to whisper back at me, “I really hope the tide comes soon. I’d hate to think what would happen if Man found us and…”
Hannah didn’t have to finish the sentence. We’d heard too many tales from whales and sharks over the years to know dolphin meat excited Man to carve us into clothing accessories and gumbo…
[to be continued]
Fascinating perspective from a dolphin’s point of view. Can’t wait for the continuation!
Ari, that was a great submission! Love the perspective. For me I immediately thought of the movie Splash with Tom Hanks and Daryl Hannah. The feeling comes through quite clearly that you enjoy you some writing!
Heh, she was my inspiration for the name Hannah!
The Smuggler Couple
Do you remember when we swam with the dolphin, in the nude?
It was when we were carrying the contraband hidden in a huge vat of gumbo, and rather than letting it fall on me alone to sidestep the customs agents, we decided to give them a show, and the dolphin really cooperated. They were too busy laughing themselves to death to bother checking the vat of gumbo.
We need to keep focused on the beauty we see all around us, to use as distractions when needed.
Remember, when seen through the eyes of a stranger, the shimmer of the rainbow’s reflection on the dewy meadow,is something else entirely. So the next time we are carrying contraband, we just need to conjure up a dewy meadow, a rainbow, and maybe a raging bull, to distract the authorities. I think we need to use a vat of chili this time.
What do you think?
Steve, I’m laughing! A gumbo cook-off combined with a water-bound smuggling ring with a lesson plan. Who would have ever thought of something like this besides you?!
Nice job.
The eyes of a stranger fall on me, as I ride the dolphin, nude, into the sunset. Clothing would be contraband in this paradise. The ocean, at once his meadow-playland and his gumbo-dinner, beckons with its shimmer; he takes me deeper with every leap and plunge, until each luscious moment seems to sidestep death.
When I awake I’m bathed in sweat as usual. Cruel dream. I know that stranger so well.
That was yum, yum, yummy, Kelly.
“his gumbo-dinner, beckons with its shimmer” Classic!
Great write!
Loved how short and perfect that was, Kelly!
I stare groggily into the mirror trying to comprehend why there are eyes of a stranger staring back at me. The reflection is one that I no longer recognize despite the fact that I have inhabited this shell of a body for 67 years. Whose soul is it that shimmers and flickers like contraband essence along for the ride? I can’t remember when exactly I began losing touch with reality, but the signs were clear… things were becoming very strange indeed. The cold hard fact that things are becoming unmanageable is becoming more and more difficult to ignore, especially if I want to continue to sidestep the law, the asylum or even death itself.
Yesterday, I awoke from some sort of trance to find myself completely nude in a chinese grocery on the other side of town. Screaming obscenities at the owner, I was adamant that he was selling black-market dolphin sushi to school children. The day before this, I found myself clad in a bunny suit sitting inside the grocery freezer at the Walmart. I had been trying to convince shoppers that the creole gumbo contained freeze-dried portions of the easter bunny.
When did this alter-ego fall on me? I really do not know. Life had always seemed so simple before this oddity of a counterpart began to overtake my sanity. I had always been content to be a follower, a mindless cow grazing in the meadow of mediocrity. Now I find myself in the midst of battle with an unseen militant counterpart and can only find shelter by cringing in the dugouts of sanity.
Wiping the steam from the mirror, I put the final application of Brylcreem in my hair and check to make sure my Elvis outfit sparkles and glitters in all the right places. Burger King has a new promotion starting today.
OH MY GOD! Lisa that was your BEST yet. The ending was outstanding. Thank you.
fun write! oddly, I think I know people like that….which burger king, by the way…I think I need a hunka-hunka-burnin’ love!
Thanks Shane & Margaret.
I actually struggled with tying this one together. Some of these challenges fall into place easily, others not so much.
I know what you mean about the variance in the challenges. Sometimes it’s literally five to ten minutes, sometimes it’s a big ‘ol chunk of the day!
“You see? Death comes to us all,” says Sophie Marceau’s character Princess Isabelle in the movie Braveheart. Jenna’s not sure what made her think of that line. She’s listening to Queensryche’s “Eyes of a Stranger” as she waits to board her plane to the UK. She’s flying out of JFK having arrived from New Orleans where she feasted on gumbo during Mardi Gras. Jenna had a blast with her American friends, but it’s time to get back home. She smiles at the thought of the amount of contraband that was being passed around in the streets. Jenna thinks to herself, “too bad it wasn’t California where herbal refreshments are legal.”
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, Continental Flight 1634 is now ready for boarding. We’d like to welcome our first class passengers to board at this time,” said the airline worker. Jenna picks up her travel bag and walks towards the boarding area. She had to sidestep a child who’s playing on the ground with a stuffed dolphin.
“Good evening miss. I hope you enjoyed your stay in the U.S.,” said the airline worker. “Yes, I had a brilliant time,” said Jenna. “Well, you’re all set. Enjoy your flight to England,” said the airline worker. “Thank you, I will,” said Jenna.
Jenna settles into her seat. The woman next to her is wearing a blouse that has a shimmer to it. A man tries to open the overhead bin above Jenna. She thinks to herself, “please don’t fall on me” as the man leans close to her. He manages to stuff his bag into the bin and takes his seat.
Everyone is settled and the captain announces the plane is ready for take-off. Jenna drifts off into a dream. She’s nude, running in a meadow after a Unicorn. Jenna has the sensation she’s being followed. She stops and turns around only to find a knight on a black horse galloping towards hers. Jenna dashes behind a big tree. Screech! “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to welcome you to London Heathrow. If this is your destination, I hope you enjoyed your flight. If you’re still traveling, have a safe trip,” said the captain. Jenna awakens with a smile on her face. She’s glad to be home.
Braveheart is one of my favorite movies. I have it on VHS and it’s getting worn out as many times as I’ve watched it.
Love the trip you took us on here. Jenna will never forget it.
Eating my gumbo in the meadow and waiting for the truth to fall on me, I concluded that — in the eyes of a stranger, anyway — there were not two more different things in this world than A) death by contraband, and B) the shimmer of a nude dolphin. But that was probably just me sidestepping the real issue again.
Jaced. This reminded me of my whole college experience.
I got lucky on numerous accounts I didn’t meet option A.
I have Braveheart on VHS as well. I’d like to get the DVD. The last time I was in the UK was in 2007. I went to Scotland for the International Fringe Festival in Edinburgh. I recommend it!
Sounds awesome. I have not been out of the states yet. (Still have 20 states to see still).
DVD is on my list.
PROGRAMMING NOTE.
Hey all. I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I’m trying to get everyone in the habbit of using the #amwriting hashtag when we tweet about the CCC. There are thousands of writers out there (still not addicted to our drug yet) that use this hash tag each day and the more they see mention of the CCC, the more dealers I will have to supply me with my much needed addiction.
Thanks.
P.S. Not only does it help us to do this, but it helps to get your business out there to the writing community. It’s a win win situation.
I felt like death warmed over. I stood in front of the bathroom sink, the eyes of a stranger looking back at me.
I caught a faint shimmer, a reflection of too-bright light in the corner of the mirror. As I struggled to focus, I realized I was watching the nude body of someone I didn’t recognize, with a tattoo of a frolicking dolphin on his very well-toned ass.
Meadow, what the hell–no, who the hell–did you do?
I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable truckload of regret to fall on me. Then I heard a footstep.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good.” I opened my eyes slowly. Jesus. He looked even better from the front.
He gave me a devilish grin. “I guess we did a little too much contraband last night.”
Right. The party. Followed by after the party. Followed by–
Ah, now I remember you.
At least I wouldn’t have to sidestep any awkward questions.
“Um, I looked in the fridge–I hope that’s okay–you don’t have much breakfast stuff, but I could make some gumbo from what you have there. I could go easy on the spice if your stomach’s a little sketchy.”
“Okay, wait. You look like that and you can cook, too?”
He grinned again and blushed. Be still, my buckling knees.
“What happens if I tell you I do laundry?”
“Heh. I’ll show you after breakfast.”
He reached out and pulled me to him for a kiss that made my toes curl. “Lady, I like the way you think.”
Whoo! It’s getting hot in here! Anybody have a glass of water I could chug?!
Great submission, Stacey.
Yeah, well, somebody decided to put “nude” and “gumbo” into the same challenge. It’s bound to get hot one way or another.
GUILTY AS CHARGED!
What’s the saying? Something about guilty pleasures.
Hands down, the sexiest entry so far! Great job, Stacey.
First time writer, charmed by the concept of the site. Here goes…
–––
To the eyes of a stranger, an idea isn’t worthy of consideration, and as such is taken for granted. This is why we exist: to fight those who would extinguish the embers of creativity.
To acknowledge the holistic nature of a thought forbidden — contraband of the imagination — is to bare yourself to punishment, laying nude to consequence, as if a meadow to the sky. And it is not something which comes easily to most people.
The dance with death one encounters on such a shimmering voyage is invigorating, with the intoxicating tonic of freedom a mere sidestep away from tragedy. They call us Dolphins for two reasons: because we’re the spiritual descendants of the Dauphin, the heirs to the throne of historical France; and because the freedom of our minds are as cherished to us as the freedom of the sea is to its mammalian inhabitants.
Our motto is Fall on Me, as we dare the gods to lay the weight of the world upon our shoulders, a modern day Army of Atlas devoted to inciting political upheaval through intellectual redemption. We subsist on gumbo for the flavours of cultural communion and shared historical ancestry.
And to the eyes of a stranger, we’re trouble.
Stuart,
That was fantastic. If you’re a first time writer, you’ve caught up quickly!
Very nice write.
Everyone welcome Stuart of Toronto to the fun.
Thanks for the welcome, Shane. Looking forward to the next challenge =)
The next one will go up tomorrow morning. Can’t wait.
Eyes of a stranger, an emotional gumbo of icicle stares that
Rake through me for signs of moral contraband.
My smile drops.
I am a meadow; I shimmer nude with a strength that
Meets her glares and shaves them into a million snowflakes
That fall on me.
I am easy like dolphin music and
I sidestep her silent calls for death.
Damn Graham. That’s quite a powerful piece packed into that short submission.
Great job.
Fuckin’ college kids. Smoking contraband, getting’ nude and wasting their parents money. Wish a fucking truck would fall on me. This continued education bullshit sucks. I’m a fuckin’ cop; why should I have to take classes between shifts to satisfy some HR quota. Fucking bureaucrats. I’ve got your “to better serve the community” right here.
“Yeah, I hear you boss. In and out. But the registration office isn’t open yet, so it might take a while to drop off my paperwork and get back to my shift.”
What the fuck are you looking at punk. I’ll beat your face into gumbo. Nice coat too, asshole. What’s Matrix your favorite movie? Don’t you know it’s unwise to stare into the eyes of a stranger who’s armed? Fuckhead! Get to class!
“Yeah, I heard you boss. I’m not sidestepping this. I’ll take the damn class with a shimmer in my eye, like Mary Poppins floating over a meadow…Relax, I’m taking it…doesn’t mean I’ll like it, but I’ll take it…Yeah, I know, my shift starts in 10 minutes. I’ll be there!”
Death, please visit my fuckhead boss…Out of my way floozy, you and your dolphin tattoo above your ass. Nice low-riders, too. And what’s with the pony-tail and hat? What, did you shack up last night and rush to class? Your mother would be so proud… Okay, now I wait…Where the fuck is the bastard that opens this registration office door? Fuckin’ college kids.
Blam!
What the…
Blam, blam, blam.
Fuck?!!!
Shit…cell phone, cell phone…911…
Blam, blam, blam, blam.
“Shots fired! Shots fired! Meadow Brook University…Shepard Hall!”
Shit, fuckin’ cell phone’s dead…Dammit, another Colombine. Gotta handle this yourself… Move your ass before more people die.
Blam, blam, blam, blam.
Fuck…Gotta peak around this corner… Ready… Go… Oh, fuck. It’s that weird gumbo kid. I knew it, I know it… Why didn’t you listen to yourself. Enough of this. Take this you murdering fuckhead!
Blam, blam, blam, blam.
“Everyone stand back, stand back. I’m a cop. Someone call 911!
Still alive huh you fuckhead. Don’t even think about it. Don’t even…
Blam blam.
“Someone call 911. Tell them the perp is dead!”
~~~~~~~~
Eric, thank you for giving me the inspiration to create my first double entry for the creative copy challenge. Had a blast with this one.
Holy Cow when I read this in my inbox this morning I was completely stuck on it (again) all the way through. This was so well done! Thank you for sharing.
Well, thank you. It was good practice for me.
you do it very well. I don’t know why I have such a hard time with it, but your perspective just has me pulled right into it, right from the start.
I believe the first word had a lot to do with that!
for me i think it was the first sentence or two. it set the tone for his day.
This reminds me of a story in Salt Lake City, an off-duty cop and a massacre at Trolley Square, a shopping mall. I can’t remember how many years ago. Good write, terrible that so many people think it’s ok to go on a rampage killing innocent people.
Wow! Loved reading all of the stories…very creative writers…
So I’m sittin’ on the porch with a big ol’ bowl of gumbo when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up straighter than a bean pole. I could feel the eyes of stranger watchin’ me even though I didn’t take my eyes off the gumbo. The missus makes some damn good gumbo and wit 6 youngins runnin’ wild, look away from yer gumbo and they’d gobble it down quicker than a run to the outhouse.
So I’m thinkin’ maybe the DEA, the FBI, the CIA or one of them there other 3-letter groups was comin’ to git me cuz they figured I was growin’ some contraband in the meadow o’er yonder. So I looks up and I could see some lights shimmer on bayou . Right off the bat I know’d it wasn’t none of my kin cuz the wife done used up all the batteries. Now git yer mind outta the gutter, that ain’t what I was talking ‘bout. It ain’t got nuttin’ to do wit being nude or anything sexual like that, she just done used up all the batteries that’s all. So I gots to thinkin’ that maybe it’s jist some poachers looking for gators.
Anyways, I’m sittin’ there with one eye on the lights and the other eye on the gumbo cuz I still don’t know where all them damn kids done got to, when all of a sudden I heard a loud bang. Lord a’mighty I done thought the shed was gettin’ ready to fall on me head, but that would be nuttin’ compared to what really happened. The wife done fell outta bed!
I rushed to her as quick as I could tryin not to spill me gumbo cuz I had to sidestep o’er 3 of them youngin’s sleepin’ on the floor curled up like a flea bitten hound dog. 2 more was snuggled up on the couch lookin’ as content as my wife at an all-you-can-eat buffet. There was a time she usta swim with the dolphins but right ‘bouts now she could probably eat a dolphin or two before she even hits the buffet. The woman done got big.
I ain’t sayin nuttin’ bad ’bout big women, I kinda like ‘em that way, but Lord a’mighty, she done got so big she stood on one of them talkin’ scales and it gave her the phone number to Jenny Craig.
So I’m looking at her sprawled on the floor lookin’ as helpless as an upside down turtle and that’s when I saw’d it…
Too little feets stickin’ out from under her. She done felled right on the utter kid! Scared me to death thinkin’ she done went and squished the little whipper-snapper. So I says to myself, “Self,” and I recognized the voice right away cuz it sounded just like me. “Self,” I says, “looks like all them youngins are in the house after all.”
So I grabs me bowl of gumbo and heads back out to the porch to see if I can catch me some of them there poachers.
Kenn, YOU MADE IT! Awesome man.
What a great first submission. That was outstanding.
Favorite line: So I says to myself, “Self,” and I recognized the voice right away cuz it sounded just like me. “Self,” I says, “looks like all them youngins are in the house after all.”
Everyone welcome our newest (author, and published songwriter) member! Good to have you here.
That was AWESOME! I loved it!
Welcome & hope to see more of your writing here!
Thanks Shane, that was a lot of fun. What a great writing exercise. When I finished chatting with you on Twitter I decided to browse around your site for a minute before I got back to editing the audio for my podiobook and needless to say, I got the urge to write something so the podiobook got pushed aside for a bit LOL But it was a lot of fun coming up with a way to use all the words into a cohesive story.
Seriously though, great stuff. Enjoyed reading your stories.
Thanks Lisa, I read your Red Sands Diaries and you have some excellent writing. I like the Winnie the Pooh story. Tigger rocks btw way so don’t go picking on my man Tigger!
~Kenn
Kenn, we always laugh about it, but it’s true. Once the CCC hooks are in you, it’s hard to leave or get anything else done.
Again, great to have you and I hope you continue to contribute.
ps. Yes, indeed. Lisa does rock!
Thanks for the compliments! Kenn, you SO have to go back and do the other challenges to add to this story!
And yes, sadly it is true. Shane has become the pusher-man, dealing out our creative fix in little moderated doses. I do the withdrawal jitterbug waitin for the next hit lol.
Ironically, I am in fact the addict. You guys are pushing the product I need. I’m just supplying you guys with the raw materials.
Hell, let’s face it, we’re all addicted!!!!!! Best addiction I’ve ever had.
It’s probably the healthiest addiction you could have.
Indeed it is. Now if I can only find a way to turn it off when I’m trying to concentrate on just being with my kids.
If I’m unable to do so, I’ll just have to teach them how to read and write faster and get them hooked, too.
He was to sidestep Death once again when the nude dolphin with contraband crying “hot gumbo, fall on me” was blinded by the shimmer of the eyes of a stranger, crashing into the meadow.
Perry, you are the champ of the short form!!!! Jaced and Anne better take notice for CCC#17. Perry’s in the house!!!!! Great submission.
Before, when I looked upon a blank page it was like looking into the eyes of a stranger. Now, I saw a universe of infinite possibilities.
I drew my chrome quill and pocketbook from the inside breast pocket of my smoking jacket. Rolling the quill between my index finger and thumb, I watched as it shimmered in the translucent blue rays of the sun.
Then I opened the pocketbook began making a list of contraband words to use moving forward.
There might be no sidestepping the quest set upon my by Velvet and the Authorities, but fall on me what may, I would be damned before I accepted my role without coloring it with a little of my own personal style.
And to prove it to myself, I wrote up a nude doppelganger of Song, complete with pigtails and a tattoo of Death on her entire back. Then I watched her ride a dolphin through a meadow of gumbo.
NICE! Continue on, Sir!
This is such a cool concept! Love watching her ride a dolphin through a meadow of gumbo! hahaha
Thank you and thank you!!! I appreciate your kind words.
They were the eyes of a stranger, yet one he knew all his life. In the background was the rhythmic sound of Mumbo Gumbo. That was strange. He never knew the band to travel from their northern California gigs. What were they doing in San Diego’s north county city of Encinitas?
Vanishing like a street vendor’s contraband CD, the soulful sounds faded as if they were never there. Rising into view was a meadow of softly, swaying wheat. Kissed with the shimmer of sunlight, and bowing in silent reverence, it formed a radiant tunnel of invitation.
Brett blinked in disbelief – the eyes of the stranger. The sweet, half smile did little to cover the nude loveliness, as she stretched her hand to his. Afraid to breathe, Brett whispered, “Who are you?”
“Let it go, Brett. Let it fall on me,” slowly she rose, and rose.
Bursting from the wheat of ocean blue, the dolphin danced on the crest of waves, to the sound of a wailing sax.
Sitting up in bed with the sheets twisted around his heated body, Brett shook off the absurdity of dreams. Maybe this was a message that he was just one more sidestep removed from death. If heaven looked like this, what was he waiting for?
Cathy: I believe this is one…fine…fine tale you are weaving. How you incorporate all the words in this series is amazing, like it was nothing. Well done indeed.
Fall on me, nude eyes of a stranger. Let us dance this gumbo and be done.
Like a shimmering dolphin does the shark, I shall sidestep death
and return to the meadow with your contraband.
–Zorro
@Steven: Anything with Zorro in it is cool, but you made it the coolest.
The nude merman shimmered in the coral meadow, enjoying a meal with a dolphin and a porpoise. He felt the eyes of a stranger upon him and, looking up over his gumbo, he gasped.
“Thought you could sidestep death, did you?” Grumbled the merpirate, spitting out the words. His eye patch twitched as he took the younger fishling by the throat. “Where is my contraband?”
“Fall on me!” the merman gasped, and his friends did just that, overwhelming the thief and allowing their friend another few moments of life–and a head start as he quickly swam away.
@Sara: Such a fun, fun read. I believe that’s the first story I’ve EVER read about a merman. Well done.
Thanks Shane! I really have NO idea where the merman and the merpirate came from, either!