On my quest to find interesting writing prompts,
I came across CreativeWritingPrompts.com (a not-so-creative url).
Prompt #95: “List 31 simple pleasures. Every day for four weeks, write about one simple pleasure for five minutes”
I love this prompt. So much so that I’m going to try to complete their challenge. Except I’ll probably spend longer than five minutes on each one.
First and foremost, here’s my list:
- Horseback riding
- Being active
- Feeling the sun on your face
- Listening to the rain
- Diving into a swimming pool
- A new pen
- Hugging someone you love
- Taking a nap in the afternoon
- Swinging in a hammock
- Breathing in salty ocean air
- Cooking an elaborate meal
- Cleaning house
- The smell of leather
- Watching plants grow
- Singing along to your favorite songs
- Playing an instrument
- Finishing a good book
- Taking a walk in the countryside
- Drinking mulled cider on a dreary day
- Helping out a friend or someone in need
- Learning a new skill
- Snuggling with a pet
- Sleeping on clean sheets
- Watching the sunrise
- Walking barefoot on the beach
- Engaging in friendly competitions
- Working with a team
- Being quiet for a while
- Standing beneath a mountain
- Writing letters to friends
Life is like a box of chocolates…
The snow fell onto the sidewalk downtown like powdered sugar over a bundt cake. Sammy’s mother had dipped into one of the stores on Main Street, had not grabbed his hand, had assumed he’d follow. But this child was transfixed. Next door to the ladies’ clothing boutique, Sammy stared through the icy glass of a window as a large machine chugged away. This machine was unlike anything Sammy had ever seen. This machine spat out truffles the way a Pez dispenser spat out candy pills. Of course, there was a man there, too, operating the machine; his hands fed it slivers of dark brown flakes and light cream ones, then plucked the nut-encrusted balls from the shoot at the end. Sammy put a mittened hand up to the window and wiped away some of the ice. Then he pressed his face to the cleared spot he had made and breathed in the richness of the chocolate store. The smell was as thick as the snow on the sidewalk, and it had a creamy quality to it that made Sammy sleepy. Without realizing it, he opened his mouth and touched the window with the tip of his tongue.
There are a few places I was thinking of going with this passage — perhaps some text from the POV of the machine operator, a gruff older man who at first comes off as angry, trying to shoo Sammy away, but then it turns out he is bringing him chocolates.
Another direction would be to have Sammy’s mother frantically looking for him, then get wooed into the store by the chocolate smell. Maybe the machine operator is the owner’s grown son, who is frustrated by his father’s stifling micromanagement, and she clicks with him?
Then I thought maybe this could be a “Labyrinth”esque story — Sammy gets lured into the store by the smell of chocolate and disappears down some rabbit hole or another.
Any other thoughts?