Welcome to the second Fiction Friday post on Well and Cheaply! Even though I didn't have that much time last Friday to write, I still forced myself to do so and was happy with the very incomplete piece of fiction I came up with. I was also super happy that I persuaded a blog reader to write her own FF post! This week I'm wondering, can get two readers to try it out?
What I'm trying to do here is just write fiction for a short period of time (maybe set a timer for 20 minutes) and then just post it, willy nilly! I think you will be surprised at the positive reactions and the liberating feeling of putting some extremely rough draft work out into the universe. I know I was!
So if you have at least 20 minutes and are with me this week, today's Fiction Friday prompt: write a scene that includes the wind and cookies. Be sure to link up in the comments and I will add it to the bottom of this post!
The pages of my notebook blew up from the wind making a crisp slice through the air as if they were saying, "put the phone down." So I did, if only for a second. The sound of children yelling somehow managed to be heard over the roar of the expressway. I wondered what it would feel like if the sound of cars rushing past suddenly stopped. It would be like the ocean suddenly falling still and I wasn't sure if I would like it.
Although it was the kind of heat outside where I just couldn't bring myself to put on a bra, I was baking cookies in the kitchen. Writing and summer time always gave me the urge to bake, and just as I surrendered to the snap of my notebook pages and started to put words down on the page, the oven timer went off, causing me to jump up.
The heat from the oven scorched my bare legs and feet, and I wondered if I could get a sunburn from baking in the summer time.
The cookies needed to cool. I went back to the balcony, only to be distracted by an inchworm making it's way across the flower pot. Neon green inching across the terracotta red. Looking inside at the apartment, I realized that I became that inchworm in the summer time. Home to write, with big goals and stretches of blank white lined pages before me. I managed to inch my way through the day acute to all the distraction my brain was willing to deal out.