Last week's prompt was a lot of fun! And I have an awesome story to share, written by Sal, who posted this story in the comments last week.
Last week's prompt was:
"You're going to try to reason with a man who swallows scorpions for fun?"
Sal's story:
The Plan
“You’re going to try to reason with a man who swallows scorpions for fun?” Tysar rolled his eyes. “Off course not. What kind of a moron do you think I am?” “Well...” “Just shut-up and help for once. It’s as though your lips slap endlessly together and no matter how long I listen, I rarely feel anything beyond soothed to sleep by the monotony.” “Well that I do understand.” Rolph mumbled. “What did you say?” “Nothing.” Rolph picked up the larger of the two dusty kit bags, slung it over his muscled shoulder and followed his old friend towards the tavern. For just the smallest of moments he questioned the sanity of it all, for Tysar’s plans and schemes rarely went as they were meant. But then Rolph smiled. At least this gave him purpose, the occasional reward for effort, and life beside Tysar was far from dull. As the tavern grew nearer he deliberately began slapped his lips together, watching the tightness gather in Tysar’s shoulders until the stout man spun, face as fed as flame. “Oh for the love of prosperity, will you just be quiet.” Yes, Rolph thought, Never Dull.
This week's prompt:
At birth everyone is given half of a tattoo. Their intended soul mate is given the other half of the tattoo. The tattoo's ink only appears after a person's seventeenth birthday. Your character discovers at her birthday party that the one boy she can't stand has the tattoo to match hers. She sees it by accident. Write about how she feels in that moment.
My story:
Of all the people in the world that could have the matching side of my tattoo, I was not expecting it to be him. Why did it have to be him? I thought maybe I had been mistaken and that the incredibly detailed tree with a hole in the middle of the trunk did not match the owl that had appeared on the back of my right shoulder this morning. Surely, there were other trees. That hole was not meant for my owl to perch in.
I caught a glimpse of the tree snaking up Trevor's left arm from his wrist when he was pushing his shaggy orange hair out of his eyes. Blue eyes, not green like most people with red hair. Ice blue. I hated when he looked at me. I felt like he could see through me into my soul. And now I understood why. He saw me. He already knew that we were destined to be together. A fate that I had to find a way to change. How could two people so completely different and so hateful towards each other possibly be soul mates? It seemed incredibly unfair. Today was my seventeenth birthday, the day I would finally see my tattoo and possibly discover my soul mate. It was supposed to be a magical, exciting day filled with little love birds a'la Disney that were supposed to lift up the hem of my dress to keep it from getting dirty as I run into the arms of my love. This was not that day. Running into Trevor's arms was about as appealing as eating rotten mashed potatoes. I hate mashed potatoes.
That's all I've got in me today. My writing muse has apparently gone on vacation. Let me see what you've got and maybe I'll put it up on next week's post!
