Last night at Second Thursday Writers, I wrote the 100th prompt in the series I had committed to. I had started it in early May hoping to come up with some good story starts for the next novel, and I did. As I've said in this blog, I've also used the prompt writings to write and learn more about the characters in the new novel, although much of that may never show up in the manuscript. I like having these writing challenges; it helps me keep at my craft and keep creating, and the prompts are really helpful for continuing to hone my skills as a story-teller.
Here's one of my favorites from the 100:
When Jake introduce me to the young woman he'd brought to the funeral, I'd have sworn he said her name was Purple Tulips. That wasn't it, of course, but it was Czech or Serbian and had four sylllables and started with P and wasn't something I could pronounce. She said everyone called her Pat but that didn't fit her at all, so I thought of her all afternoon as Purple Tulips.
Jake was clearly smitten with her and I was a wee bit jealous. Jake and I had been lovers for nearly a year, and we'd had a lovely time until the lust waned. I'd have been happy to see our passion morph into a steadier flame, but Jake got restless and met Anna and I found Paul and he and I married and had four happy years until the cancer won.
Purple Tulips was 10 or more years younger than Jake, which probably suited him. He was a man who loved going more than doing, and I was a sitter, a lounger, a reader. I hoped Purple Tulips liked to hike and travel.
She stood by herself a lot that afternoon, and I wondered if I should go over and speak with her and make her feel welcome, but it didn't seem my place. My old self would have done it, but the widow I was now had a rebel streak that hadn't been available to me before and so I turned away and was done with them both.