Day 7 —What sets you apart from the crowd?
“What sets you apart from the crowd?” They asked the Old Space war Hero, craving the secrets she held. They wondered why she was the last one standing when all those fell around her on the battlefield. On the outside, there was nothing remarkable about the average looking Space Hero.
The Old Space Hero smirked, knowing they could never understand. They would never understand the impact of every choice and the weight of every burden she carried. Regrets haunted her like old friends, whispering in her ears at every second. She supposed the only remarkable thing was her perseverance, the will to carry on when the lights flare out.
“I suppose I just kept moving on when the others could not.” The Old Space Hero said, leaving them to think on her answer. They caught a glimpse of the wild spark in her eye, realizing what truly set her apart from the others.
Day 5 —Pick a letter of the alphabet. Now imagine two aisles of your local supermarket. List everything found in those two aisles that begin with that letter of the alphabet.
Items that can be found in the supermarket: Kale, Kit Kats, Kiwis, Kabobs, Ketchup, Key Lime Pie, Kidney Beans, Kool-aid, Kumquats, Kung Pao chicken, Kosher Dill pickles.
Day 6 —Write about a person who would buy all of those items in Day 5.
The young lawyer wanders down the aisle, taking in the K foods around her. She doesn’t understand why this supermarket categorizes by letter, but she won’t complain about it. The woman has better battles to fight. She isn’t a particularly accomplished cook, but she is trying to learn and expand her horizon. She mostly cooks for friends at her small apartment who tease her about her terrible food even though it isn’t and share in the mishaps during cooking.
She straightens her suit jacket and takes a look at the first item: Kale. The woman wrinkles her nose at the kale, thinking about how much it reminds her of broccoli. God, she hated broccoli as a child. Her mother used to try and force it down her throat. The woman still can’t stomach the sight of broccoli and she decides to move on, wanting to keep her stomach contents down.
Next up are Kumquats. The woman wonders what how people use Kumquats in their cooking. She has surprisingly never tried one and decides that Kumquats might be a lot of fun. The woman grabs the little round fruits, slipping them into a bag. She has never been a stranger to trying new things, each day of her life holds a new adventure.
The woman is distracted by the furry Kiwis and smiles to herself. She always found the little fruits odd like herself. They taste sweet, yet they have such an odd exterior. The woman always found that kiwis taste best with deserts. While she is not the world’s best baker yet, the woman is determined to make the kiwis her center focus.
However, that does not stop her from grabbing the Key Lime Pie she spies further down the aisle. She won’t wait to pick up when she gets to that point in the aisle. She might forget her favorite desert like she occasionally forgets other minor things. The woman tries not to be forgetful, but sometimes minor things slip her mind amongst the chaos of her thoughts.
Her eyes spy a jar of Kosher Dill pickles and the woman can’t help, but smile to herself. The pickles remind her of home, back in New York. She remembers the memories of her and her brother, eating peanut butter and Kosher Dill pickle sandwiches. Whenever the young lawyer goes to the supermarket, she always picks up a jar to reminisce about old times.
The woman picks up a can of Kidney Beans, figuring they can help her make a really nice chili. Her father, while distant in her childhood, always made a mean chili. She wishes she knew him better and continues to try to make a chili like his. Nothing tastes right about it, but she won’t give up. She can overcome anything in her past.
Next up is Kung Pao chicken and Kabobs in a freezer bag. The woman grabs a two bags, knowing the convenience of pre-made food. Her job does not leave a lot of time to cook, despite how much effort she tries to put in. It also has left little time for other pursuits during the work week. Work has left little time to see friends and families in the same manner that it has left her little time to cook.
The woman has found herself in the junk food part of the aisle, one of her least favorites. Kool-aid and Ketchup give her the willies. All she can think of is a giant glass man, emptying his contents to children while Ketchup has a sort of plastic quality to it. The woman moves on, preferring to stay away from things that give her the willies. While she is quite brave, there are just some things that she cannot handle.
The last thing before she leaves the aisles are Kit-Kats. The chocolate bars call out for her to buy them. The woman bites her lip, before grabbing the Kit-Kats. She knows better, but hell, they are good and she loves chocolates. The woman knows that she can indulge in her guilty pleasures every once in a while.
Author’s Note: I didn’t see the point in separating Day 5 and 6 so I put them together. I had a bit of fun writing for these prompts.
Day 4 —Write a story/excerpt to include the line, “Sorry, we can’t insure you for a journey like that.”
“Sorry, we can’t insure you for a journey like that. Besides, you won’t make it.” The man said behind the desk, watching her from behind the lens of his glasses. She frowned, knowing that she would find some way to get her dream journey.
The woman stared at one of the windows, watching the stars in the dark of space pass her by. The stars were more beautiful than she had imagined they would be. They had told her that she would never get insurance for journey like this, especially when she was dying. A year later, things turned around for her and she had another chance at her dream to be amongst the stars on the final frontier.
Day 3-Write about the worst time you’ve ever put your foot in your mouth.
She bit her lip nervously and glanced at the faces around her. The awkward silence got to her as a blush crept up her cheeks and she glanced around for an escape. Damn! Why had she said that to them. Her idea had not been particularly fantastic, but she had only been thinking aloud in the moment. She silently resolved to clarify herself and opened her mouth, before being cut off by a group member.
“We can definitely can come up with a better idea than that.” One of the members said dismissively, moving onto another idea. She could have dissolved into the ground.
Day 2-Tell about a character who lost something important to him/her.
The mysterious woman freezes as her hand reaches for the silver oval locket around her neck to only find that it is no longer there. How could she have lost that necklace? It meant so much to her, like a good luck charm reminding her of everything she worked for. Every mission she had been on, even those that meant bringing her to the edge of death and back, the locket had always been there. Hell, she considered it her good luck charm, the only thing she had any emotional connection to and now it was gone.
How could she have lost in this crowd? She was amongst the rich and powerful, who had no reason to steal. After all, they could assuredly find something much more beautiful than hers. The woman could see this ending poorly now. A vision of failing this mission flashed across her eyes, failure had never been option for her. She was not one to live with the shame of it and a tarnished reputation. She had given everything to get where she was and she wanted to hold onto the few things she had left.
As she began to weave through the crowd, the mysterious woman lost the grace and power she carried herself with. If you strip away someone’s armor, you get to see their true selves in their most vulnerable state. The mysterious woman was losing her armor fast with her most importance piece missing. The Sharks could smell that there was an intruder amongst them and they began to focus on the outsider. She fought to stay calm with vicious eyes upon her, tearing her apart with a single look.
A hand reached out to grab hers and pulled her out onto the dance floor. The woman almost reacted like a wild animal in a corner, something that had saved her life a few times in the past. “I am not going to hurt you.” The deeper voice explained, pulling her close to him and helping her to sway to the classical music with them. The woman was not so quick to trust the man. She could not know if he could keep his word. She would have given him a slight trust if she had the locket.
“I doubt it.” She said, quite coldly. At the time, the woman could barely show any courtesy to the man. She would have had her emotions under better control if she had not been thrown off guard. When she was at her best, she was a master manipulator able to wear a thousand different disguises. When she was at her worst, she was an angry force of nature, determined to destroy anything in her path.
“Now, now, is that anyway to be treating the man who has this?” He said, slipping a familiar piece of silver jewelry out of his pocket. Her green eyes locked on the locket and a cold feeling washed over her. There was no doubt he had nicked it, making him both a formidable opponent and ally in her eyes.
“How…Give it back!” She replied stunned for a moment, before regaining her composure. She reached for the locket and the man quickly tucked it out of reach before she could catch it. He tsked at her, like a schoolteacher does with a naughty child and the woman swore she could have decked him there.
“I have some advice to give you and then, you can have your necklace back.” He said with a smile, that reminded her of the cat who caught the canary. Listening didn’t sound like a hard task and she definitely wanted that necklace back. Besides, everyone knew she did not listen well to others. The mysterious woman always preferred to do things her own way, ignoring warnings from others unless they served a purpose.
“Fine. Get on with it.” She said, impatiently. The two continued to step to the music amongst the others. It seemed that the sharks had lost track of their intruder, waiting for her to resurface from the dancers.
The man let out a sigh with a shake of his head. He had been warned how stubborn she was, but he never quite thought she was this stubborn. He had hoped she would have been more reasonable, especially when she came to the conclusion that he had been able to lift it off her. Besides, he was risking his life to do this little favor. The man supposed that he could nothing to make her heed his advice. What a tragedy.
“Stay away from your target.” He said, choosing the most condensed form of his warning. The woman raised her eyebrow, silently asking if he was serious. There was nothing that could stop the hound when she was on a hunt. With the locket, or not, she would go after him with everything she had. Failure was never an option.
“Why not?” She asked, slightly annoyed. A nagging voice in her head told her she could trust him. After all, he must have been mighty desperate to steal her locket to get her full attention. No one ever really paid attention to the locket except her.
“He knows you are here and he knows who you are. He knows what you will do. You need to get out of here. Come back for him at a later time.” The man replied with an anxious edge, glancing around the room for watchful eyes. Her target could be watching him at the moment.
“No. I can still do this. I have other plans!” She said, feeling her world crumble around her a little more. The woman had the upper hand; she always did. There was no way the target could do this to her; none of them had been ever able to see her coming. This one had to have someone on the inside. The music came to a swelling climax, before stopping in a dramatic manner. The two pulled away from each other, staring at one another with wide eyes.
The man took her hand and placed the silver locket in it. “Please don’t do this. Try again another time.” He said, before disappearing into the crowd. The woman watched him leave, till he disappeared. She made her exit off the dance floor, grace and power returning to her step. The woman had much to think about before she could continue, if she continued with her hunt. However, she was just glad to have the last thing that anchored her to her past and the people that occupied it.
While I was gone on my unexpectedly long hiatus, I started doing some writing for another blog called 2nd Hand Social for a company called Tagsellit. I am proud of the fact that I actually get to write blogs for this internship and the blogs that I get to write are pretty awesome. I have seen some of the really creative work that people put out there. Anyway, I would be really thankful if you took a moment to check it out and I wanted to show you guys what I have been up to!
Here are the articles:
But the face on the pillow, rosy in the firelight, is certainly that of Clarice Starling, and she sleeps deeply, sweetly, in the silence of the lambs. She no longer tosses and turns with intensity, matching the screams of her sweet little lambs. Tonight, they will leave her alone with pleasant dreams.
Clarice Starling no longer hears the screams of Jame Gumb’s victims, begging for justice and resolution. Their hands no longer claw at her from the river and the ground, pulling her down into the darkness. Clarice no longer has to stare into the eyes of his latest victim with tiny moths flying from her mouth. She no longer screams for help, for anyone to come and pull her from the ever encompassing dark.
Clarice Starling no longer hears the screams of Catherine Martin. She doesn’t hear her cry or scream for Clarice to pull her up from the dark hole that Jame Gumb left her in, scared and alone. Clarice no longer feels the crushing guilt she felt for leaving her there for only a few moments. Most of all, Clarice Starling no longer feels the burden of Catherine Martin on her shoulders, weighing her down like an anchor to a ship.
Clarice Starling no longer hears the screams of the lambs from her childhood. She does not revisits the memory of sneaking out to the barn and watching them scream like a young child frightened. She does not watch the butcher slice them down one by one and take off into the night, knowing she can do nothing to help them. For now, the lambs leave Clarice to her own sweet dreams.
Clarice Starling no longer hears her own screams. She no longer hears her own mournful screams for her father, the dead night watchman. She no longer beg for him to not leave her alone in this cruel world. She no longer hears her own screams for the lambs on the farm, wishing for a way to save them. She no longer hears her own screams for justice and the truth, always denied to her. The dark no longer threatens to overwhelm Clarice Starling.
Her sleep will be peaceful for the moment. The Lambs will come back screaming; they always do.
Author’s Note: The first line belongs to Thomas Harris’s The Silence of the Lambs. I couldn’t help writing something about Clarice Starling especially when I consider her one of my favorite characters of all time.