500 Prompt Challenge

Describe an abstract person as if it were a person. Wanderlust is an ethereal beauty – a woman with honey-colored hair and freckles that dot her delicate features. Her emerald eyes are always shining, even when there is no sunlight. She never wears shoes, walks the streets barefoot until the bottoms of her feet are ashy and cracked. She prefers to wear silky white dresses that drape off her collarbones like milk. 

A couple is breaking up in a coffee shop. Narrate the moment from the point of view of a barista. The barista might be gossipy, cynical, or a hopeless romantic. I watched him as I mindlessly polished inner workings of the espresso machine.  He was sitting alone, legs crossed, staring down at his phone as he sipped on a bone-dry cappuccino. My attention was pulled away by the sound of the shopkeeper’s bell–a brunette model-type was walking into the cafe. She was sporting a pair of flared blue jeans and a cropped wife beater, standing tall in a pair of chunky heeled mules. She looked marvelously put together, despite the fact that her chestnut hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, two long strands hanging loose to frame her face.  This type of effortlessly cool beauty was not a rare find in LA. You can spot them walking down Melrose with shopping bags full of vintage t-shirts and antique whiskey glasses that they picked up from the Sunday flea market. Or emerging from thei...

Choose a setting. Choose an emotion. Without naming the emotion, describe the setting in a way that evokes that feeling in the reader.   When she left the bar that night, she had to stop herself from walking in the direction of her old apartment building. You’re staying at a hotel , she reminded herself.  She continued down the street, just buzzed enough not to mind the early September breeze. It would have been the best time of year on campus–the long, hot afternoons after class. The trees still full and green. Students littering every outdoor space, drinking beer or reading textbooks or smoking weed. The semester would have just begun. Freshmen would have finally settled into their dorm rooms. The libraries would still be empty for at least another month until midterms began. As she walked through the night, she watched the clusters of bodies walk from one bar to the next–girls in crop tops and boys in oversized jerseys. While in line, they stared down at their fake IDs, try...

Recall a favorite or memorable song lyric. Make it the title of a story. Brainstorm story ideas. T his Must Be the Place Cameron picked up and moved every year. She couldn’t stand feeling stagnant in life–she chalked it up to her self-diagnosed ADHD. Or OCD? She could never remember which one she had decided on. She was typically following a job or a man, or even a strong craving for a certain cuisine (this was how she ended up spending a summer in Osaka). Each November, like clockwork, a wave of restlessness would pick her up and sweep her to the next location–Prague, Tel Aviv, Manila…each year she seemed to be drifting further away from her small hometown on the coast of northern California. It wasn’t until her 32nd birthday when something inside her began to stir–but this time it wasn’t restlessness. It was rootlessness. Suddenly, the exotic landscape outside her window had lost its charm. She wanted to go home.  And so she did. 

Describe your bedroom through the eyes of an FBI agent who believes you have committed a crime. There was nothing atypical about the bedroom. It was tidy, everything seemed to have its place. A yoga mat in the corner next to the window. A rack of clothes that slightly skewed to the right. A cowboy hat with pink gems on its rim hanging from the wardrobe.  I took a step inside to get a closer look. There was a wooden picture frame hung above the desk. Under its dusty glass surface, seven photos neatly arranged into a collage.