No-Prompt Writing Prompt Part III

The thing to remember about our untitled prompts is that there is no editing. No “I’ll go back and correct that later”—since there is no later. It’s fun, stimulating and embarrassing all at the same time. Hope you enjoy the second in our series….this time

Bev. goes first.

The little blue egg sat annoyingly nearby ticking. It was supposed to keep track of the timing for Eggs Benedict and home made bread. Yummy kitchen cooking when Sophie felt the nesting urge. But today, it was ominous and frightening. The numbers flashed by—8:10 – 8:06- 8:04 —and the fear Sophie felt was magnified with each tick. “Why, oh why, didn’t I listen to Lars? Why did I dig out this stupid egg? Why didn’t I use the hour glass instead?

The egg silently counted and ticked and seemed to mock her. 4:30 – 4:28 – “Oh, my gosh—the whole world is going to know my secret in only 3:58 minutes.” Her hands trembled as she thought of what was to come. Mortified, she wondered if her husband would ever forgive her. Her heart beat faster and faster and then the sound she dreaded most. The little blue egg timer went “bong.” Loudly.

Pat continued…

Sophie slammed her hand on the egg to hush it as quickly as she could.

“See,” she said to herself. “Hour glasses are silent.”

Things have been ugly in West Lockwood these past few months. Food was scarce. No shipments were allowed in, it was too early in the year for produce from the garden. Folks were hungry.

She had a decently stocked pantry. She had been led by her spirit and stored food in the face of tremendous insult and criticism by her husband.

Then, of course, after the economic collapse to beat all economic collapses, he acted like he was singularly responsible for this food supply.

But months have gone by. The supplies were dwindling. Someone has been stealing her chickens at alarming rates. So, her husband had built a pen in their basement. This caused the hens to stop lalying. One egg one day, two the next, nothing for three.

And what did she do? Used them all. Every single one.

At once.

She had been rationing and skimping to help the sash lat as long as possible.

And she had had enough.

A full breakfast was what she needed. But she didn’t mean to wake up their guests.



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