Happy New Year beautiful readers! With the start of a new month, and a new year. Whether you’re a seasoned writer, a complete amateur, or you’ve got the goal of trying something new this year on your list. Why not get the creative juices flowing with some writing prompts.
If you have a paragraph, a short story, or anything you’ve created from the following that you would love to share, I would love to hear it and share it with the wider community (with your consent of course.) Comment below, type it in my contact box, or hit me up on Insta. I would love to hear from you.
You’re laying carpet in your house, but the last square takes off, with you standing on it, through your roof, and over your town.
You're sitting in the middle of a temple, legs crossed in a group full of people and someone starts choking.
You wake up, in complete darkness, with no concept of where you are and how you got there.
You’re out in the middle of Australia, alone, with a popped tire and a deadly snake wrapped around it.
You find two pieces of gold in a box of coco pops.
You walk into a yoga class which turns out to be a tantric sex class
Your mum calls you to tell your not hers.
The doctor just told you you have eight minutes and thirty-three seconds to live.
Three women walk down a dusty dirt road, one holding a broken suitcase, the other a tambourine, and the third a cage with her pet guinea pig.
You just woke up, and the date is 11/11/2050.
A man sits alone in a busy city park, pulling his cap down over his face and scribbling fiercely into a notepad rested on his lap, every time someone walks past.
He was in the boot, hands tied and mouth taped when he heard the siren.
She sat in the corner of the bar alone, lipstick as red as her shoes. Her fingers gripping tightly onto the martini glass, her knuckles were white.
He walked through the apartment door to see her standing there in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a bar of fluffy slippers. Half a Mars bar hanging out of her mouth.
He stood alone in the empty house, he couldn’t see anything, and the only sound he could hear was the creak of the old floorboards beneath his feet. But he felt the cold wind on the back of his neck and the hairs on his arms rose.
‘You saw that, didn’t you? In the air, flying. Don’t tell me you didn’t see that.’ She screamed, running towards me.
‘Mum.’ I looked down to see a tiny blonde girl with tight curls, tugging at my hand. I wasn’t her mum.
Need to keep your creative juices in check?
Suffering from writer's block?
Join the community and receive monthly writing prompts straight to your inbox below.
Comentários