Prompt for July 13: Four Line Poem about Picky


[prompt from

None of the vast array of letters
At my fingertips seem to fit.
My story is too great for the
Puny pen lines of this world.


Prompt for July 12: Four Lines about Urges


[prompt from

His hands clenched and unclenched themselves. His jaw was tight, his teeth almost grinding each other into nothing. Warmth was everywhere in his body, especially in one place in particular.

He had to have her.

Prompt for July 10: Glue


[Trigger warning: rape Prompt from
The tune she hummed was one from her childhood. Something her mother must have sang to her as she tried to drift off to sleep. Or maybe it was her father. It certainly wasn’t something she had crafted herself, though all the nurses thought that to be the case.

“It’s her illness,” they would say. “Her way of dealing with the things around her.”

It wasn’t her fault her mommy brought a new man. How was she to know that he would come into her room every night while her mother was sleeping? At first, she thought he was going to sing her to sleep.

But that wasn’t the case.

After that, other things started happening that Christy couldn’t remember. She thought she saw flickers of that man hurting her mommy, of her mother surrounded by a pool of red on their kitchen floor. Or that could have been paint.

Next thing she knew, she was put in the nice large white building where all she had to do every day was cut out pictures and stick them onto paper. Sure, the nice ladies and nice men wanted her to talk to them, but she never felt like it. Christy wanted to keep making her pretty pictures for her mommy, whenever she decided to come back.

Prompt for July 8: Wrong Number


[prompt from
I gripped his hand, clinging onto it as though I was again out in the storm and his hand was the buoy that saved me from the rest of my people’s fate.

“Four seven one nine five.”

My stomach dropped and I felt a wave of nausea crash over me.

“No!” Geshna whispered beside me. His hand tightened around mine. There was nothing he could do and he knew it

“Will Four seven one nine five please step forward. You have been chosen by the Unseen.” The Caller’s tone had been short and sharp.

Before I could lose my courage all together, I brought Geshna’s hand to my lips and kissed it. “I’ll see you on the other side,” I whispered. Then I stepped out of line.

“You will get through this, Havarti!” Geshna called after me. “You survived the Reaping, you can survive this.”

His words only fueled my fears. He hadn’t been at the Reaping. He didn’t see what those beasts did to my people before they scattered what remained of us into the Dark Sea. I barely made it out of there. I wasn’t so sure luck would be with me this time.

The caller led me into the arena. I saw the different instruments on the table and I tried to make sense of them. How was I supposed to choose how to end a life? Should I go with the most humane? Or the one that would cause the quickest death?

“You have five minutes to choose, Four seven one nine five.”

Five minutes? Was that all a life meant to these people? I felt another wave of nausea sweep over me.

Prompt for July 5: Four Lines of Prose – Too Much


[prompt from

I remember only a handful of things about her appearance. She was beautiful, I do remember that, with ebony hair that glistened in the sunlight that streamed from the grubby cafeteria window. The smile she gave me was a promise of something special yet to come, a sign that we had a future together.

This future never had a chance to happen for when she passed me, her perfume burned my nostrils and stole my consciousness from me.