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kissa_bites I was reading another writer blog today, and in that small group they have set up a challenge, similar to the one we have regarding a picture, but this one goes a little deeper.
The word: toast
The genre: paranormal thriller.
So now you write a paranormal thriller about toast. See how easy that is?
See, I told y'all that you can thank BG as she unknowingly gave me both the noun and genre.
I'll give us all...*taps chin* oh hell... it's open ended, and yes bed, any form of writing works.
- mamma
My 20 minute response:
It burned! He thought he might scream from the agony. The tiny room that the aliens put him in burned his skin. The walls had started out black, but as each millisecond ticked by, they grew hotter and hotter, redder and redder. His mission had failed. He was going to die. They were all going to die.
Eldor met his contact at the bakery, as usual. His informant handed over top secret information on the Carpu infiltration of the butcher shop next door. As the invisible shapeshifters mind melded, the informant showed him images and conversations of the Carpu’s plot to plant their breeding spores into the meat called “bacon wrapped filet”. The spores would be consumed by the hu-mons and the Carpu spores would take over their minds and bodies and eventually, food. The hu-mons had no hope without Eldor’s people – the destroyers of the evil Carpu. As the last image, that of the butcher called “Vinnie” (now a spore-host) faded from his mind, the Carpu attacked!
Beams of energy, deadly to their species but harmless to the bread and machinery and the hu-mons, flew around the building. The wounded Carpu piled in heaps that the hu-mons walked right through – spores sticking to their clothing and skin. Desperate to escape to tell the others of the evil plot, Eldor shifted, turning in to the image of very thing he was standing next to – a seed on a lovely loaf of pumpernickel. From his open hiding place, he waited and watched silently, as the Carpu dragged the informant away. He didn’t dare change back – they could see through the window.
Nightfall came. Eldor waited as the hu-mons bustled around him and the Carpu watched through the window. The hu-mons holding plastic bags came closer, bagging up the bread and stuffing them in carts for shipment. They came closer. Eldor couldn’t shift in the plastic – the chemistry made it impossible. He couldn’t shift before the hu-mons bagged him up with the bread, looking as he did, because the Carpu would see him and he’d be shot before the twist tie even closed. So he waited and allowed himself to be bagged and slung under the arm of a departing baker. He could see the spores on the baker’s skin.
He only needed a moment out of the plastic to shift. Just a quick moment and he’d be gone.
The hu-mon baker, though, liked his bread fresh and as soon as two slices were removed, Eldor was thrown into the toaster.
It burned, oh how it burned… .
The word: toast
The genre: paranormal thriller.
So now you write a paranormal thriller about toast. See how easy that is?
See, I told y'all that you can thank BG as she unknowingly gave me both the noun and genre.
I'll give us all...*taps chin* oh hell... it's open ended, and yes bed, any form of writing works.
- mamma
My 20 minute response:
It burned! He thought he might scream from the agony. The tiny room that the aliens put him in burned his skin. The walls had started out black, but as each millisecond ticked by, they grew hotter and hotter, redder and redder. His mission had failed. He was going to die. They were all going to die.
Eldor met his contact at the bakery, as usual. His informant handed over top secret information on the Carpu infiltration of the butcher shop next door. As the invisible shapeshifters mind melded, the informant showed him images and conversations of the Carpu’s plot to plant their breeding spores into the meat called “bacon wrapped filet”. The spores would be consumed by the hu-mons and the Carpu spores would take over their minds and bodies and eventually, food. The hu-mons had no hope without Eldor’s people – the destroyers of the evil Carpu. As the last image, that of the butcher called “Vinnie” (now a spore-host) faded from his mind, the Carpu attacked!
Beams of energy, deadly to their species but harmless to the bread and machinery and the hu-mons, flew around the building. The wounded Carpu piled in heaps that the hu-mons walked right through – spores sticking to their clothing and skin. Desperate to escape to tell the others of the evil plot, Eldor shifted, turning in to the image of very thing he was standing next to – a seed on a lovely loaf of pumpernickel. From his open hiding place, he waited and watched silently, as the Carpu dragged the informant away. He didn’t dare change back – they could see through the window.
Nightfall came. Eldor waited as the hu-mons bustled around him and the Carpu watched through the window. The hu-mons holding plastic bags came closer, bagging up the bread and stuffing them in carts for shipment. They came closer. Eldor couldn’t shift in the plastic – the chemistry made it impossible. He couldn’t shift before the hu-mons bagged him up with the bread, looking as he did, because the Carpu would see him and he’d be shot before the twist tie even closed. So he waited and allowed himself to be bagged and slung under the arm of a departing baker. He could see the spores on the baker’s skin.
He only needed a moment out of the plastic to shift. Just a quick moment and he’d be gone.
The hu-mon baker, though, liked his bread fresh and as soon as two slices were removed, Eldor was thrown into the toaster.
It burned, oh how it burned… .
