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h in high supply.38. Fire-starters: Write about building a fire. https://thinkwritten.com/365-creative-writing-prompts/
Note: See if you can guess the hidden meaning in this poem! In order to make a fire, you need three things. Fuel, oxygen, and heat. Once those three are set in stone, Your fire will be neat. Let’s start with a little fuel Some kindling will do. Make a base to build off of Explore that something new. Soon you’ll add heavier things, Like twigs and stick and logs. For now though, take it slow. Soon you’ll be the top dog. Let’s move on to oxygen. You need to give it space. Let it know that you’ll be there But not always in its face. You can’t smother your flame Or else it’ll just burnout. Don’t wander off too far, though Too much space and you’re without. Finally, move onto heat It doesn’t need too much. A tiny spark and it’ll grow Til it’s too hot to touch. It’s funny how that tiny spark With the right foundation It’ll keep growing until it reaches Full intoxication. If you follow these steps, You’ll have a powerful fire. Just keep these three on coming And it’ll never tire. Keep your flame in good shape Without any of these it’ll die. But if you keep tending to it You’ll have warmth in high-supply.
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Hey guys so you've probably noticed that I haven't posted as frequently as I usually do, and I'm so sorry about that. I've been really busy for the last month and am probably going to be pretty busy for another few months. I'll do what I can to pick it up, but please stand by and I'll do my best. Thank you for continuing to read, and I'll see you guys later.
Writerial out. 46. You knock louder and louder on the door, but nobody answers. https://getfreewrite.com/blogs/writing-success/writing-prompts-60-ideas-you-can-use-today
TW: Blood I pounded on the door, gasping for air. “Help!” I called. “Please help me!” I waited for a second, trying to staunch the blood that was gushing from a large wound in my shoulder. I wheezed in and out-I felt like I’d never have enough air again. My world took a spin and I let out a breath. I was losing too much blood. I knocked on the door again, this time harder. “Someone! Anyone, please! It’s coming!” I shuddered at the thought of it. I didn’t know what it was and, honestly, I didn’t care. Matted black fur, huge pointed teeth, blood-soaked lips. It walked on two legs-one of its legs was noticeably longer than the other, giving it a limp. That didn’t slow it down, though. It could run like a bullet-its arms waving wildly as it flew towards you. And right now I was its target. My world lurched again and I shook my head. Don’t think about it, I told myself, putting my hands on my knees. I knocked once more, a feeble attempt to get help. “Please, anybody,” I said but my voice was barely more than a whisper. It was no use, no one was going to be answering. I looked around. There was a low window to my right. It looked recently washed with lacy white curtains on the inside. Well, that was about to be ruined, I thought, a grim smile reaching my face. I eyed a garden gnome-perched on the edge of the gravel pathway leading to the door. I sighed, staggering towards it. I didn’t want to kneel down to grab it-I wasn’t sure if I would ever get back up again. With some effort, I wobbled down until the gnome was within arm’s reach. I grabbed it with my uninjured arm and got back up. “Sorry,” I told the gnome as I shakily hurled it at the window. I watched hopefully as the glass cracked, but didn’t shatter. I hung my head as I lurched to the side. I’d used the last of my little strength to throw it at the window. I didn’t know what I’d do next. I heard a deep, throaty growl from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. The...thing...was standing there, eyes narrowed in hatred as it spotted me. Adrenaline overtook my body and I ran at the window, jumping through the cracked glass. It shattered against my skin, cutting my all over, but I could hardly feel it. The thing was already upon me, snapping at my heels as I flew through. I hit the ground with a thud, crawling away as quickly as I could. The creature’s head appeared at the window, snapping and snarling as it tried to reach me. With a deflated sense of triumph, I realized that it couldn’t fit through. I was safe...for now. 53. The sun rose for the final time. https://getfreewrite.com/blogs/writing-success/writing-prompts-60-ideas-you-can-use-today
I sat on my roof, watching as the bright ball of light crested over the horizon, lighting the sky up in orange flame. She remembered when the sun was bright and yellow, promising new life. Now it was the dim red of blood that foreshadowed disaster. The end was approaching-that they all knew. No one knew how it was coming. Some thought it’d be a surge of diseases that’d leave people crippled. Others said a foreign, alien race would come to destroy cities. A few thought it’d be a huge meteor that’d obliterate everything in its wake. There were a few other theories, I knew, but those were the most common. I shook my head. The end was coming. It didn’t matter how, it’d be here shortly and I wanted to make the most of the little time I had left. I hopped down from my roof, landing with a solid thud! A few people called out greetings to me as I passed. Hardly anyone had slept last night. Very few were willing to waste the little time they had left with something as pointless as sleep. #4 – Due to climate change, wildfires have engulfed the large majority of living land. Your character is one of many attempting to board a ship set for a new in-ocean settlement. The problem? That settlement doesn’t actually exist.
https://self-publishingschool.com/fiction-creative-writing-prompts/ NOTE: So, I usually try to keep my writing prompts somewhere between 1-3 pages because they’re short stories. This would make a great book, but it’s very hard to elaborate on because of how short I keep these prompts. Despite that, I did what I could and I hope all of you enjoy it! :) I was 14 when the fires hit. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen, even the news didn’t do it justice. Towering, 50-ft walls of flame, threatening to char anything that it touched. My family hadn’t made it out in time. There was nowhere to go. All of the land was being burned by this. Heck, I hardly made it out alive. I’d been carried away by Mikal-one of the boys in my village-long after I’d passed out. I then joined a group of people making their way to the ocean. It was hard, leaving my life behind, but I knew that I didn’t have a choice. I’d heard talks, whispers, of a city on the water-where the fires couldn’t reach them. A life where they wouldn’t have to worry day-on-day about being burned to death. A life with peace. The group-who had now begun to call themselves the Sailors-made their way to the docks. It’d taken many years to travel here on foot, and there’d been many close encounters with the fires, but we were finally here. |
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