Writing Wednesdays & A Writing Sprint link up

Because I’m a writer & storyteller and enjoy weaving words together into tapestries of stories both real and imagined, I’ve dedicated Wednesdays to my creative writing. I am currently working through the revision of The Dream Quest, a story about a young man named Daniel who embarks on an incredible quest based on a series of dreams he has involving people he’s never met but am not ready to post anything new at this point.

So, I’m playing along on the Writing Sprint Prompt this week.

As always, the Writing Sprint prompt appears at the end of this post and offers an opportunity for you to freewrite for 15 minutes without the so-called help of your inner critic. No overthinking. No stopping. No editing. No worries. No inner critics. Daily writing exercises help writers grow, improve and free their writing. The only rule is that you must leave a comment for at least one other writer who’s included their link. That’s it. Other than, free yourself from your doubts, your fears and your inner critic and have some writing fun with us!

{oh, and a quick p.s. If you’re joining the link up, please grab the Writing Sprint logo below and include it on your blog post, along with a link back to this page. Thanks!}

laptopWriting Sprint Prompt: Still Life

before I get started, I will say that in order to maintain the 15-minute rule, I have created a playlist on Spotify that allows me to put together three or four songs that come close to 15 minutes. When the final note plays on the last song…I stop writing.


Charlie tosses his keys into the small brass seashell on the entryway table. Instead of dinner, he smells Eleanor’s favorite bubble bath lingering in the air and he follows the scent down the hall to the bathroom. He is surprised to find the door swung open because Elle usually keeps it closed to keep the bathroom warm even before she gets in the bath.

“Elle?” he says from the doorway.

When there’s no answer, he steps into the bathroom. There are mounds of bubbles and a strong scent of lavender, a full wine glass on the edge of the tub and a stack of her favorite magazines and a partially read fiction book piled on a folded towel.

He turns toward the bedroom but notices a trail of water on the bathroom floor and bubbles melting on the floor by the tub. He takes a step closer and peers into the tub and sees the stain of red wine along the inside wall of the tub and wine-colored bubbles near the edge of the tub. He peers closely at the wine glass and notices a lingering stain of wine on the lip, as if Elle has taken at least a sip or two from the glass. He notices that the magazine on the top of the pile is soaking wet. Charlie feels edgy and calls out Eleanor’s name as he moves through each room.

“Elle!” he calls out to the emptiness. “Eleanor, you here?”

When she doesn’t answer, fear begins edging into his mind. Something’s wrong, he thinks, pulling out his iPhone. He calls her phone and hears it ringing in the living room and runs down the hall to find the phone. The lights are off, which is not like Elle. He flips a switch and searches for the ringing phone, finding it buried in the couch cushions.

As he dials 9-1-1 he grabs up Elle’s phone and begins searching through the call history and texts.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” the dispatcher’s voice is sterile, disinterested.

“My wife. Something’s happened to my wife,” Charlie says.

“What’s happened, sir?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie says.

“I’m sorry,” the dispatcher replies. “You don’t know?”

“It’s just, she’s not here,” Charlie says.

“Sir, I’m sorry. That’s not an emergency,” the dispatcher tells him.

Her disengaged voice irritates him.

“This is definitely an emergency,” he says.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to call your local precinct. They’ll take your information after your wife has been missing for twenty-four hours,” she says.

The line goes dead.

For a moment Charlie stares at the phone in his hand. Did she actually just hang up on me? he thinks.

He continues scrolling through the messages on Elle’s phone and comes across a series of messages between her and someone named Edward. He clicks on the first message and hears the squeak of a floorboard behind him.



This Week’s Writing Sprint: Still-Life

Create a still-life in the room that implies a dramatic moment (e.g. an overturned chair, several balled-up pieces of paper, an open map, a torn envelope, a set of keys, a silk scarf). Describe what happened either just before or just after that moment.

Give us what you’ve got with as much detail and dialog as you can muster in 15 minutes. And most of all, have fun. Free your writer from your inner critic. When you’re done, come back and link up what you’ve got! And remember to give some encouragement to at least one other person in the link up community. You can post to the link up party until next Tuesday night. Hope to read you there!


5 thoughts on “Writing Sprint: Still-Life

  1. I like it! Who’s behind him? Is it her? Edward? Both of them?? Good tension and suspense and it’s great that it ends with no real resolution – I can make it up 🙂

    1. My husband said he really liked it even though I told him it seemed pretty cliche’ to me. He assured me it didn’t read that way.

      I’m finding these writing sprints to be a pretty good challenge to my writing muscles that’s for sure!

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