Story A Day May #21

Using the

www.writingexercises.co.ukwebsite again today, as I’m again writing on break at work and have just a little time to knock something out. (I might be a bit of a procrastinator.) I guess it’s good that I don’t get off work until 12:15am, and actually have the office to myself unlike if I worked early. 🙂

And, not really knowing the exact mechanics of water wells, besides digging a giant hole and fishing water out of it, we’ll all just pretend that the following bit of fiction is ‘technically correct’.


May 21, 2015

Random First Line Prompt:

There was a legend about the well in the garden. All the children knew it. They grew up hearing about it from Old Mother Mabel. She used to speak in hushed tones, telling the tales of the nymph and water elves that lived at the bottom of the well, deep underground. Every child knew that you had to toss a coin in for good luck every time you passed. The nymph blessed their village with rain and good crops.

Old Mother Mabel picked her way over the worn forest path, knobby walking stick tapping on the ground. She soon reached the clear spring that ran along her property. The woman stood on the bank, and grinned at the coins shimmering among the rocks. No one ever knew that the well was fed by her spring.

First Line of Dialogue Prompt:

“You embarrassed me this evening.”

Sally trailed behind her mother, who was walking with quick steps, the click of her heels echoing on the marble floor. Sally carried her shoes; her tiny feet hurt, and papa had said that she could take them off.

Papa waited at the bottom of the steps, speaking with their driver. He was finishing a cigar. Mother didn’t let him smoke in the house. He glanced up, smiling at them, but then caught the look of misery on Sally’s round face. When her mother met him beside the car, she proceeded to tell him how his daughter completely embarrassed her and the family. In front of Everyone!

Sally walked over the gravel driveway, not caring that her white tights would get dirty. Papa came over and picked her up. He peered at her in only the way a father could.

“What did you say that was just so awful, my baby?”

“Auntie Clementine asked mother what she was doing Sunday morning. She said they should go out for brunch. I said that mother couldn’t.”

“Oh? Why can’t your mother have brunch?”

“Because Sunday is bloody mary breakfast day.” Sally’s little face wrinkled in hard thought. “Papa, what’s a bloody mary?”

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