Get your creative juices flowing with a weekly short essay prompt:
Write from the perspective of a character who has just found out that he or she has six months to live. What are your next thoughts, feelings, and actions?
Email your 300 – 500 word short essay to me by 10: 00 a.m. on Monday, December 2 and I’ll post my favorite with the next writing prompt!
*******
Thank you for all the entries in last week’s Monday Writing Prompt! You can read last week’s favorite by Shannon Barrington below:
It did not turn out the way I thought it would.
Being single, in my late 30s and knowing that crazy statistic about lightening, I decided to try online dating. I thought for sure I’d find someone interesting. And, as a matter of a fact, I did.
We started sending emails back and forth and he seemed like such a great guy. He had a good job, was close to his family, no criminal record. All in all, a decent fella.
So, the emails led to texts which led to phone calls. He’d call and say all the things a lonely woman sitting at home wants to hear. He’d ooh and aah over the pictures I’d post and we’d spend hours talking about our interests. We really seemed to hit it off and I couldn’t wait to go to the next level.
An actual date.
So, the stage was set. He’d picked one of my favorite restaurants even though we’d never discussed it. Was it a sign that we were right for each other? I surely thought so. I began to plan the evening days before it happened. What would I wear, how should I do my hair, what perfume should I use? So many things to think of. I almost took a vacation day to plan.
It was finally time! We had agreed to meet at seven, at the bar. We’d seen enough photos of each other, talked enough and spent more hours online together than most married couples I knew. So, for me, I just knew he was the one.
I arrived at the bar a little early (yeah, I know I shouldn’t have, but I was so excited!). As I ordered my first drink, I nervously scanned the area. There were a few men at the bar by themselves, but they weren’t who I was looking for. As I ordered my second drink, I began to fret. And, by the time I’d finished my third, I was pissed.
He stood me up. How could that be? We were meant for each other. What about all the texts, emails, phone calls. How could he have done this? How could I have been so stupid? I was about to leave, dejected and embarrassed, when the bartender handed me a drink.
“I didn’t order that.”
“From the guy at the end.”
I glanced his way. Nice! I smiled and mouthed, thank you.
Coming over to me, he said, “Would you mind if I join you? My name’s Dave.”
So, like I said, it did not turn out the way I thought it would.
But then again, as Dave and I just celebrated our one year wedding anniversary, I can’t say I’m unhappy about it, either.
