In celebration of that, my awesome-and-handsome boyfriend Brandon gave me two books of writing prompts a couple days ago, to help cure my recent bout of writer's block.
Isn't he awesome?
So I've decided to share some of my experiments with these writing prompts with you, my
adoring fans, I mean my friends in the blogosphere. Not every one, just the ones I particularly like.
Here's the first. Enjoy!
Prompt: The briefcase was heavy in his hand and the gun tucked into his waistband felt awkward.
Here's what I came up with:
The briefcase was heavy in Tim's hand and the gun tucked into his waistband felt awkward. Who the Hell did he think he was kidding? He was no G-man. What the fuck was a G-man anyway? Did anyone even say that outside of 70s-era Bond movies? Relax Tim, he told himself. It's all gonna go down nice and easy. In and out in 15 minutes. Just collect the money and go home and bang Shannon.
An image of Shannon popped up in his mind: she was bent over at the waist in their walk-in closet, reaching for a pair of heels he'd purposefully moved out of her reach so he could get a look at her juicy ass.
“Dammit!” She'd said. “Why do my things always move? It's like they're playing tricks on me.”
“What are you going on about?” He'd laughed then. “Your things don't move.”
“Yes they do!” She waved the heels in his face. “These were in front, by my flip-flops. Then all of a sudden they're way in the back by my suitcase. Now why would I put these heels by my suitcase?”
Shannon flipped her unruly curls off her forehead and added, “Hmmm?” Her cheeks were rosy with indignation.
Tim felt himself get hard. He could've taken her right then: just bent her over the bed, ripped off her teeny white shorts and taken her, but Shannon would never allow that. She'd just scoff and tell him to be a man. That's what she was always saying: Be a man, Tim!
That's what this job was about, wasn't it? Proving to Shannon that he could be a man?