BB’s (possibly stolen) PROMPT for 04/23/15 from CLW

Using these ten words, write three different scenarios: contemplate, single, wonderment, fight, caution, slip, industry, finalize, juncture, easy.


  1. Meeting a love interest
  2. In a fight with a parent
  3. When you character finds herself in a WWE moment

YES! I DID IT! All scenarios below were written to fit in my current WIP, Thousand Oaks Hollow (as I had to cut these down for length, you may not see all the action implied in the Prompt, not all ten of the words — but I DID get them all in.)


L’Aquellian was cold and wet too, but at least she saw a way out — though it was not a way she wanted to CONTEMPLATE. The Ferryman’s barge was likely to run aground if they didn’t hurry and make up their minds.

“Let’s just get aboard. He’s going downstream, and I can see the break in the clouds even from here, Your Highness,” she said to the third princess.

The royal personage had been fairly game up to this point, but now she just looked terrified. “But there’s nothing to hang onto,” she whined. “What if we hit a wave? This raft (the Ferryman glared with annoyance “raft”) tips and we slide off into the River Sticks?”

“We’ll just have to swim to the other side, and . . . ”

”But I can’t swim,” the Princess wailed.


The two old women rocked back and forth, back and forth, chomping at their gums in time with the full‑body movement.

Lackley didn’t know what to make of them. All she’d done was ask if she might have but a crust of bread, should they have one.

“A crust, a crust . . .” the more grizzled of the two cackled. “Well, sister, have we a crust or not?”

And the two broke into howls, or hilarity, depending on how Lackley might choose to interpret their reaction.

At the next moment, and with no crust or mite of food forthcoming, she looked up as the two huddled together and stared with wide eyes over her left shoulder.

“Ah! Now she comes, NOW she comes,” they screeched.

Lackley’s head all but spun off her neck she turned so swiftly to see what creature came crashing through the tangled oaks behind her. A third? A third old crone?

As Lackley stared at the Old One, she realized they all had the same beak of a nose, though the two — sisters? — one with nose bent to the north, the other with nose bent to the south. And this third? Lackley closed her eyes for the briefest of moments to be sure she was seeing what she thought was: a nose which bent both north and south and the same time!


The huge, grey wolf slavered, teeth bared, as Lackley froze in place. She did not want to be attacked by this beast at this JUNCTURE, after all the INDUSTRY she’d shown in surviving the sisters; a raging river; three witches; the filthy, faithless Ferryman; and a demented and demanding dragon. What more would she have to endure? This lone, grey wolf was nothing to what she’d already accomplished.

And then she heard the howls and the thundering of the many feet of the Pack.

(Feel free to re‑use my prompts, modified to YOUR specifications ‑‑‑ I “stole” them too from Carol Lynch Williams, AnnDeeCanDee, Cheryl, The ABC Writers Guild and others . . . )


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