Every story I write begins with a prompt from readers like you. It can be a single word or even an image. Some of the words are very common and some are…less so. In the past week I’ve used everyday words like “static” and “climax,” but I’ve also been treated to others like “sibilance” and “polymath.” Yeah, I had to look those up too. I’ve also written stories based on concepts such as “existential nausea” and “gradually, then suddenly.” The point is, anything can be a jumping off point for a 101-word adventure. If you’re interested in audience participation, I welcome your involvement. Simply send me your idea for a prompt. If I use it, I’ll credit you (if you’re so inclined). Just let me know how you’d like to be listed (first name/last initial; initials only; full name; Witness protection name, etc.). Feel free to email your suggestions to: firstname.lastname@example.org
And now, on to this week’s tale.
I’m a Good Neighbor
She has fuckin’ balls. I’ll give her that. Her husband’s been dead a week and she’s having her own estate sale. The garage-sale vultures circle her driveway—fully expecting to be dealing with an emotionally-wrecked lost soul. Instead, they’ve got a new widow who, by the way, seems to be taking it all rather well. She should. She killed him and I’m pretty sure nobody but me knows it—certainly not the cops who wrote it off as a random hit and run.
I wave her over. Smile as I whisper, “I know.”
It’s gonna be a good year.
Prompt: Moving on