Week 42 of Odd Prompts

Welcome back, y’all! I hope you’re well-rested and well-fed this harvest season, because once again, it’s creation time. We’re only less than three months away from the end of the challenge. Pick up your brushes or your pens, and get those fingers keyboard-ready. We can do it! The prompts await.

Fiona GreyChoose a holiday and a color not normally associated with that holiday for your inspiration.Cedar Sanderson
Cedar SandersonFar under the sea, like snowflakes drifting downward into the perpetual dark, was…nother Mike
nother MikeThe old woman smiled, and handed us a jar. “Here, a housewarming present. Pickled frog legs! They’re my favorite.”Leigh Kimmel
Leigh KimmelSubterranean region beneath placid New England village, inhabited by (living or extinct) creatures of prehistoric antiquity and strangeness.Sanford Begley
Sanford BegleyRooting through the old farm midden heap, looking for antique jars, you find a nest of golden colored eggs.Fiona Grey

SpareThe crickets’ choir outside the window began chirping famous choral compositions.
SpareThe architect who specialized in designing hidden rooms
SpareThat’s not a caterpillar, it’s…
SpareWhen the veterinarian walked in, he was carrying a bloody knife.
SpareWhen we went to the grave, the body was missing…

Don’t forget, email prompts to oddprompts@gmail.com, and indicate “spare” in the title if you don’t want to join the trade.

I have to say – in forty-one weeks so far, I’ve not once failed to be surprised and entertained by the creations of this collective odd bunch. We’re a welcoming folk, here, if anyone wants to wade into the waters and join! Can’t wait to see you in the comments next week.



  1. Cedar Sanderson prompted…

    Far under the sea, like snowflakes drifting downward into the perpetual dark, was…

    I have started this twice now, and somehow, these little fragments seem worth sharing, even if they don’t really make me want to write a story around them. Maybe…


    They drift down, those forgotten memories. Sunrise over the Grand Canyon, a pony lipping your hand, the gentle joy of blowing a dandelion puff into the air, all those forgotten memories sift down and settle. Starfish, strange blind shrimp, and other oddities if the deep munch gently on them, slowly making them disappear forever, but there are always more coming down, a gentle storm of forgotten memories.


    Out in the black depths, they drift down, the forgotten and lost souls of all those who die at sea. Oh, not just humans! Dolphins, whales, all manner of strange creatures leave their souls drifting in the oceans, and they slowly gather here, with those of the drowned or otherwise dead at sea humans, and settle into the depths. It’s a gentle companionship of lost souls… under the sea.

    Liked by 4 people

  2. The psychotic witch that passes herself off as a muse latched on to a spare prompt (When we went to the grave, the body was missing…) and insisted that it was connected to the bits from Week 41 and 40. And that was all she offered. No hints how they are connected. *sigh* The last I saw of the hussy, she was curled up in front of the fireplace with a book in one hand and a glass of expensive Scotch in the other.

    Discussions with my partner in crime netted some clues, but right now we’re as lost as the characters.



    • I like the little behind the scenes snippets. It makes the characters feel more real. 🙂

      Never had frog legs, let alone pickled frog legs. I’d be hard pressed to keep a straight face. 😀

      Liked by 1 person

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