Monday Muse

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Monday Muse: The Mental Hospital

December 15, 2014

“Inside a mental institution, a man tries to explain how he is not crazy to the hospital psychiatrist.” –1,000 Awesome Writing Prompts * * * In the two weeks since he’d woken up from his coma–since he’d been relocated from the hospital to the mental institution down the street–John hadn’t noticed much of the “improvement” his doctor was looking for. “How do you feel today, John?” Dr. Moss peered over his small, square glasses. He was the epitome of what John had always imagined a therapist would be. Tall and lanky, wearing earth-toned jackets that smelled like mothballs, and every time he spoke he did so slowly, methodically, almost like he was following a script. He probably was, John thought. “Okay,” John said with a shrug. He looked down at his hands. Where the fingers were laced and the thumbs overlapped felt transparent–like he only had half the sensation in his hands as he used to before whatever accident had […]


Monday Muse: Daylight Horror

December 1, 2014

Most horror stories focus on something that goes bump in the night. What is something we should be scared about during the day? –101 Horror Writing Prompts * * * She wasn’t sure what she’d seen, but she couldn’t help herself but to look out the cafe window again and again, down the brightly lit alley bustling with people doing their last-minute Christmas shopping, to see if she could spot it again. It was silly, she told herself over and over. No man was that tall, that thin, and, as far as she knew, anyway, everyone was born with a face… But she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever it was still lingered there, somewhere, just beyond her sight. “Are you okay?” Jamie’s mother’s voice made her turn her head and her attention back to the uneaten lunch on her plate. Her mother’s eyes were weary and concerned–probably because she’d asked her grown-ass daughter this same question four times in […]


Monday Muse: Terms and Services

November 24, 2014

“When I agreed to the terms of service, I had no idea that it would lead to this.” –1,001 Writing Prompts to Ignite Your Creative Spark * * * Noah wiped the blood from her forehead. It smeared against her skin and left streaks across the back of her hand. She could feel it dribbling from a cut somewhere above her hairline, but the whole area was on fire and she couldn’t tell exactly where she’d been hit. All she knew was that some of it was coming down across her face, and the rest made her golden waves hot and sticky against her scalp. That didn’t matter, though. Noah got to her feet and cast a glance over her shoulder at the debris from the old apartment complex. A tiny body moved against her chest. Small fingers absently groped at Noah’s cardigan, her shirt, and the leather strap to the satchel at her side. The girl moaned, her eyes […]


Monday Muse: The Countdown

November 17, 2014

“There’s a countdown toward Midnight of the New Year. Something happens at the stroke of 12. What is it?” – 1,000 Awesome Writing Prompts * * * The coffee shop bustled. Men and women, drunk from the night’s celebrations, swarmed in and around her as Noah Hill slowly sipped her cappuccino and watched the numbers slowly tick downward. Two minutes, most of them said. Some sooner, some later, but all within a few moments from the time the clock would strike midnight and the New Year would begin. So many people were going to die tonight. She sighed and watched a man and woman make their way toward central downtown, where the big countdown to 2020 was held. Numbers flickered in gold above their heads. One minute and forty-six seconds. One minute and forty-five seconds. One minute and forty-four seconds. They disappeared around the corner, away from Noah’s relative silence toward the craziness and noise downtown. Every time something like […]


Monday Muse: The Horde

November 10, 2014

“Write about a day in the life of a member of the herd. I mean horde.” –Zombie Prompts: Creative Writing for the Apocalypse * * * Everything was gray. The sun raised up and peeked through the fog. It cast long, dark shadows across the red-streaked concrete. It ambled from one side of the driveway to the other, slowly dragging one broken foot behind it like a club. Every other step made the same sssshhhhhht-crack! sound as the exposed bones ground against the hard surface beneath it and painted a crippled, bloody line. Once, the thing may have felt the warmth from the first morning rays like a blessing. Once, it may have recognized the passing of time, the dawn of a new day, and all that could come with it. Now, though, it recognized only one thing, and that thing didn’t depend on sunlight or warmth or any of the other things many people found comforting these days. All […]

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