March 6, 2012 at 4:43 pm | Category: blog
My friend Kelsey Browning (of Romance University fame) recently hosted a writing prompt contest at her Brain Candy blog. The contest is still running if you want to give it a shot!
Of course, I couldn’t pass up a chance to play with another writing prompt. The entry had to be 250 words or less, not including the word count of this prompt:
Rhona stared at the grave mounded with fresh dirt. Was it true only the good died young?
Here’s my entry:
Having experienced her step-sister’s torment for years, somehow Rhona doubted it. Pammie Sue wouldn’t know good behavior if it bit her on the ass.
Dying at sixteen sucked, but it was hardly a tragedy. The pastor mumbling platitudes over Pammie Sue’s grave had clearly never met her.
“Ding dong, the bitch is dead,” snickered Stephie, Rhona’s best friend. “We should’ve put a stake through her heart to make sure she stays that way.”
“Shhhh!” Rhona shot a quick glance at Terrible Trudy, Pammie Sue’s grief-stricken mother.
Stephie had a point—with her luck, Pammie Sue would be back as a flesh-eating zombie, trailing cemetery dirt through Rhona’s bedroom window in the middle of the night.
Rhona’s dad glared at her.
“Step on my toe, hard,” she whispered. “My dad’s watching. If I don’t shed a tear or two I’ll be grounded for life. Trudy’s almost convinced him I’m possessed by demons.”
Stephie snorted. “What does your father see in her, anyway? Besides the obvious.”
They turned in unison, taking in Trudy’s gargantuan gazongas.
“Men.” Rhona shrugged. “I can’t believe Pammie Sue is dead.”
“Death by toxic hair dye fumes—now that’s a dumb blonde.”
“She left the dye on while was in the closet, talking to lover boy on her cell,” Rhona explained. “In priiiii-vate.”
No need to mention that lover-boy was Rhona’s crush. Or that Rhona had accidentally sat in front of the closet door for half an hour, blocking it.