First Post

Welcome to my first post. This blog is my writing prompt place. I'll post up something I did from a writing promt, and you let me know if you like it. If you don't like it, don't comment. If you do like it, let me know by asking for more.

Most of the time, I'll probably use the writing prompts from the Writer's Digest website, but I might use the good-ole writers block prompt book here and there.

I'll probably do some advertising here too, maybe google adsense, or writing specific ads I do myself. We'll see.

Here's my first prompt -It came from Jamie Morris' Amherst Writers class tonight.

Patterns:

Luke closed his eyes, and listened to the water coming out of the shower head. He listened to the sound it made when it hit his head. He felt the muscles in his scalp relax from the clench of uncomfortable sleep. The heat from the water melted the tension.

This was part of Luke's moring ritual. Every morning, same time; 5:50am. He soaped himself in the same sequence, rinsed in the same sequence, and dried off in the same sequence. Every morning. The ritual enabled him to get up on time, to work on time.

This morning, however, his socks weren't ready. He'd forgotten to take them out of the dryer the night before. Now, he's be 1 minute, 30 seconds off his routine. He hoped for only 5 redlights. He could makeup 2 minutes if he did.

"It's getting closer to Christmas," Luke thought. "Maybe this year won't be as bad."

The little rituals in Luke's life made it easier to get through day-by-day. Holidays, especially Christmas, threw those rituals off.

Mark opened his eyes, and laid in bed a few more minutes. Sarah slept quitely next to him. At least he thought this was Sarah. He turned his head gently, raised up on one elbow, and saw the flowing black hair, and alabaster skin. Not Sarah, that was for sure. Mark looked around the room. Not his room, either. Too much pink. Too many stuff animals. The sheets smelled of sex, and Mark knew he probably didn't smell very good, though he couldn't tell.

Whoever the girl was turned over, the sheet fell off, exposing her torso. Mark looked there before looking at her face. He didn't recognize her face, but those breasts belong to the waitress where he's ate the night before. He'd remember those anywhere.

Mark put his clothes on, minus his underware. They were nowhere to be found. As he walked down the hall, Mark ran headon into an older man, the face similar to the waitresses. He was older, but not much older than Mark.

"Morning. Sounds like you had fun with Betty lastnight," the man said through a powdered sugar encrusted mustashe. "Bet your hungry. Got some Dunkin Doughnuts in the living room if you want some. Help yourself." The man turned away, and went into another room.

As Mark walked out to the living room, he could tell he was in a manufactured home. "Time to go," he thought. "Got to beat Luke to work."

Luke waited for the cellphone to pick up. "Hey buddy boy. How are we this bright shinny morning?" Mark answered.

"Wakin up. How about you? Did you hookup lastnight?" Luke asked.

"I think so. I didn't wake up in my bed, that's for sure."

"We've got a meeting at 9:30. Lisa's going to go over the proposal with us.

Mark and Luke were game developers. Luke was the programer, and Mark the creative and strategy part of their business. They created a game called, 'The Bretheren's Heart' together.

Mark and Luke were bootstrappers. The worked for different companies, in different cities. Mark worked in Jacksonville, Luke worked in Boston. They'd met on a gamers messege board, came up with an idea, created a business, worked on it secretly at work, and in the evenings. They did everything online, never having met each other. They called their business, 'Unseen'.