Back on the blog chain gang!

After a long hiatus, I'm back on the blog chain! It's nice to see some new faces, and I hope my readers will follow the chain and come to know the new posters as well. Speaking of new faces, I brought a new face into my family during my break. He's cute. I'm allowed to say that as his mother, and if you disagree, I will eat you like the mama bear I am.

That said, this time the blog chain topic comes via Christine: Since we are all writers, I thought it was about time for us to stretch our creative muscles and do a little writing. So, take the following topic and go crazy! Show us what you’ve got. Your story can be as long or as short as you choice.

The topic: A dark and stormy night.

And she also wants us to follow these rules:

1. Write for a minimum of 5 minutes… AND THEN KEEP GOING!


2. NO editing. (well.. do the obvious spelling and punctuation.. but nothing major)

Yo, ho, here we go:

There were no living things here. Just a wandering pattern of cracks like a map laid atop the earth's surface. The very dirt had been sucked dry by months of sun and wind. Dust coated the toes of my shitkicker boots, and I slammed the '72 Mustang's door, half-surprised it didn't crank right off and land on the highway. I'd made a promise to Pearl Girl, and I sure as hell was gonna keep it.

Save the land, Jacky Boy, she'd pleaded when her eyes were all welled up with tears. We caught those tears in a Mason jar and sealed them up. It looked like she'd been saving the tears for weeks. Maybe even months. Took a hell of lot of tears to make magic.

Pearl Girl ain't here anymore. It was up to me to see this through. It had to be by midnight, and right now, the sky was black as ever and freckled with a million light points that still seemed so insignificant, so ready to be swallowed up by the same void that killed the crops and rendered these grounds useless.

With my boots and my jar of Pearl Girl's tears, I crossed the earth and found the spot on the map I'd come to know as well as I knew the creases of my own right palm. The metal made a swirling noise, and the lid of the Mason jar gave soft sigh when the cap popped off.

"This is for you, Pearly Girl. I hope to hell you were right."

I lifted the jar of tears in a toast to the sky and then poured the saltwater on the sad earth. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Just the same old coyotes howling against the same old night.

Then the clouds rolled in. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, and the rumble of thunder raised every hair on the back of my neck.

Sure as hell, a storm was coming.


All right. I gave it my best effort. Please check out Margie's take on Christine's homework and then tomorrow have a look-see at Jon's approach.

Do you ever force yourself to just get out some words with writing prompts? If so, tell me about in a comment.