Cheryl Burman's Blog: Blog posts for readers and writers, page 38

The little boy’s idea of heaven

Today’s writing prompt and my response.

Day four of this week’s challenge. The story starts here.
The little boy’s idea of heaven …

The girl followed the cat into the hall, across to the kitchen and through to the utility room. Robert followed the girl. He must ask her name, given she had his. No, bad idea. She’d be gone soon.

In the utility room, the cat jumped onto the bench, stood on its back legs and tapped at a cupboard door. Robert’s heart sank as the girl reached in and pulled out...

He hadn’t seen the old man since …

Today’s writing prompt and my response.

Day three of this week’s challenge. The story starts here.
He hadn’t seen the old man since …

‘You don’t remember what they’re like.’ The girl gave a rueful smile. ‘All riddles and cleverness. I was in luck this time, though. It must have been the urgency, knowing how desperately we needed to find you, that gave me a straight answer.’

He ignored the urgency bit, which churned the foreboding still sitting heavily in his gut. ‘Which was?’

‘Your name a...

Girl on car bonnet … pic prompt

Today’s writing prompt and my response.

Second day of this week’s challenge, and it’s a picture prompt. The story starts here.

‘I’m not from around here,’ she said. ‘I come from a place –‘ she waved her hand vaguely in the air ‘– a long way away.’

‘Does this place have a name? Would I know it?’

‘Once you did. Here, you don’t.’

‘Okay, you’re making even less sense. Don’t recall any memory gaps, and it’s not like I’m ancient.’ He was thirty-five.

Her lips lifted at the corners, as if she sha...

He opened the door …

Today’s writing prompt and my response.

First day of this week’s challenge!
He opened the door to find her standing there, crying.

He opened the door to find her standing there, crying.

A young woman, a girl really, slim, dressed in jeans and an old-fashioned winter coat, straight out of the 50s. Dark, untidy curls fell across her face. He had no idea who she was, or why she was at his door. And he didn’t want to know why she was crying.

‘What is it? Where have you come from?’ He peered ...

Love City Brooch: use these three words

Today’s writing prompt and my response.

Last day of this week’s challenge! The story starts here.
Love City Brooch: use these 3 words

He silently pried apart the planks in the wall. He listened. Not a sound, not even her breathing at the other end of the hiding space. He inched the opening further apart, listened again.

With a look back at her, he gave a thumbs up, peered into the dark room and crawled from the space. He eased the boards back in place. He crept to the door, listened aga...

Hurt Amaze Prick: use these 3 words

Today’s writing prompt and my response.

Day five of six of this week’s challenge! The story starts here.
Hurt Amaze Prick: use these 3 words

He trusted her. There was something she said right at the beginning which intrigued him.

‘You mentioned,’ he said, ‘you’d found a group of us.’

‘Yes, but didn’t I also mention they came and took most of us away?’

The hurt in her tone fed his guilt at his earlier suspicion. ‘You did. But if there was one group, there might be others.’

She looked at him...

Picture prompt: a hole in the sky

Today’s writing prompt and my response.

Day four of this week’s challenge! The story starts here.
Picture prompt: a hole in the sky

She settled closer against the wall, and stared into the shadows behind him. ‘You remember back before?’ she said.

‘Yes.’ Although he preferred not to.

‘How they used us, to do all their dirty work?’

‘Yes.’

‘But some of us were cleverer than that, and they knew it.’

He was getting irritated. This was all old history.

‘Yes, yes,’ he snapped. The look in her eyes ...

‘There’ll be plenty more …’

Today’s writing prompt and my response.

Third day of this week’s challenge! The story starts here.
‘There’ll be plenty more before this is over.

The cracks in her porcelain skin showed she must have been around for years. An early model, perhaps, when they still made them from porcelain, not plastic. He himself was a plastic version, among the last to be made before everything went belly up.

‘They’re destroying us, out there.’ She nodded towards the hidden entrance. ‘No mercy. ’

‘I ...

They’d had a lot of freedom …

Today’s writing prompt and my response.

Second day of this week’s challenge! The story starts here.
They’d had a lot of freedom back then

‘Not in here.’ The frustration in his pursuer’s voice rang clear.

‘You sure? Aren’t too many other places he could’ve gone.’ Scepticism and anger here.

‘Look for your bloody self.’ A pause in which he imagined an arm being waved into the furniture-less room. ‘Nowhere to hide a mouse, let alone a fourteen-year-old boy.’

‘Let’s go, then. He’s getting away...

His hiding place …

Today’s writing prompt and my response.

First day of this week’s challenge!
His hiding place had been discovered

He came up short, panting, red-faced. He stared. No! His hiding place had been discovered! The thin cotton thread he had so carefully pulled from his worn out jeans was no longer in its place across the imperceptible gap.

He bent over, hands on his knees, heart thudding. The opening remained closed. Maybe … he glanced around … maybe some small creature, hiding just like he wa...