Week 28 of Odd Prompts


Odd Prompters of the world, we begin another week of creative expression and sheer reality distortion. One hopes the weekly challenge sparks unusual levels of creativity, after all. For instance, we have not yet seen abstract dance or baked goods in response to a prompt – but I look forward to when we do!

(But I will leave the abstract dance interpretation for someone else. It’s best that way, trust me.)

No written genre or expressive form restrictions, no length requirement, just imagination.

As a reminder, send your prompts in by Tuesday to oddprompts@gmail.com for pairing with another Odd Prompter on Wednesday. Too much commitment? Grab a spare, or include the word “spare” in the subject line. Post below in the comments, or link to your personal online page (though please avoid social media as it restricts who can see your post).

Prompter Prompt Prompted
Cedar Sanderson The turtle on the trail cautiously extended its neck, peering at you (character), and then opened its mouth to say_________________ Fiona Grey
Fiona Grey A prairie storm, with rolling thunder, ominous clouds, and flickering lightning. And in that flash of light, you see… Leigh Kimmel
nother Mike The envelope had no return address, and held only some dried flower petals. Becky Jones
Becky Jones The massive thunderstorm brings rain, hail…and a small creature (you decide what) to your doorstep. What is it and what are you going to do?
Cedar Sanderson
Leigh Kimmel Ancient winter woods—moss—great boles—twisted branches—dark—ribbed roots—always dripping. . . . nother Mike

Spare visual prompt! Is a picture worth a thousand words? You tell us! 

Ohio Renaissance Faire, 2019 photo by Cedar Sanderson

Not feeling it this week? Day job got you crunched for time? Missed the deadline to submit? Grab a spare prompt below.

Spare He bit into the big ol’ chocolate chip cookie and said mmm… is that cricket?
Spare “It’s the best I can do, I’m afraid.”
Spare And in that moment, [character] knew s/he was prey.
Spare The bank robbers used flamethrowers…
Spare Please don’t tell George to disarm someone… he’ll just pull their arms off, and then you have to do the paperwork.
Spare “I hit the wall. Again. And this time, I didn’t do it to myself.”

Finally, feel free to share. The Odd Prompters are a welcoming bunch. See you in the comments!

Header image by Fiona Grey, Cloud Gate (aka The Bean), Chicago



  1. Leigh Kimmel prompted

    Ancient winter woods—moss—great boles—twisted branches—dark—ribbed roots—always dripping. . . .

    Bleep. Too much to do this week, I haven’t gotten very far with this. But a little splinter, maybe. Need to think about where to go next, I guess…

    In The Woods (300 words)
    By Mike Barker

    He usually liked walking in the woods, but these… there was something brooding and dark about them. Huge, thick trees, covered with moss, with twisted branches so thick overhead that no sunlight seemed to come down. In the dark, he placed his feet carefully, trying to avoid the roots, the thick ribbed roots. Did that one move to try and trip him? No, he shouldn’t let his imagination run away like that. And the dripping rain, running down the boles, and falling in showers here and there, as if the leaves above held it until he was underneath to dump on him, didn’t help his mood.

    He shuddered as he stepped through yet another minor downpour, and felt the cold water run down his collar, dripping down inside his shirt. What was he doing out in these woods?

    He pulled out his cell phone and checked. What? The map seemed to think he was on a road, in a subdivision? Wait. He waved it around, the x motion that everyone said should work for orienting your GPS. Then he checked the map again. It still showed him on a road. He looked around, and shook his head. Nope, that was ridiculous.

    He had been in regular woods and other growth. Then he stepped over that fallen log, in between the two thick trunks. He remembered thinking it was almost like a doorway. That’s when the rain started misting down, and as he looked around, he saw the thick boles everywhere. The sky had darkened, too.

    Then he saw the silver hind jump between the trees and vanish. A deer, but shining silver? He started to run, trying to catch another glimpse of that shiny deer in the dark woods.

    And now where was he? He turned, slowly. Nothing looked familiar. He looked down at the ground. Great, there weren’t even any tracks to show where he had come from.

    As he glanced up, the silver deer trotted into sight, and stopped.

    (to be continued, maybe)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I could see how mine could fit into the Big Messy project that started with “My Old School” — I have plenty of memories of storms rolling across the prairie when I was growing up on the farm. It turned out longer than I’d expected, but it’s now up at https://starshipcat.livejournal.com/780853.html

    And the farm is based upon the actual farm where I grew up. The little surprise building at the very back of the farmstead actually existed: here’s the vintage aerial photograph. Weirdly enough, I had a dream of that building before I saw the photo, so I don’t know if it might’ve still existed right when we moved there, but was torn down before I had clear memories. Some time I’ll have to ask Dad and see if he remembers.


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