Thursday, June 23, 2016

Daily Writing Prompt

The rules are simple. Set your timer for ten minutes. Begin to write and include the prompt somewhere in your mini story. The word he or she can be changed to reflect whatever gender you want to use. Optional: Share your writing prompt in the comment section. Write everyday.
Today's prompt is:

The photographer was with Mandy when she overdosed.

Blackstone Resorts is a southern plantation built in the 1800's by the Reverend Charles Blackstone. It only opens its door to guests once every eight years. Guests soon discover they had walked into a Venus flytrap with no escape unless they repent their evil ways to the Reverend's satisfaction. The tradition continues two centuries later as eight unsuspecting guests arrive. Each recipient has his or her own reason for needing a quick escape from the outside world. Tension mounts quickly as they come face to face with their worst nightmare. Will they repent their evil ways or remain at Blackstone for the rest of their lives?

1 comment:

  1. Fred leaned over to James. He tapped the bar in a three step rhythm. “I’m not feeling the love between those two.” He nodded to the couple sitting at the table in the corner.
    The man was turning the pages of a large portfolio. The woman was staring at the side of the man’s head more than giving a slight glance at the photographs or paintings.
    “I don’t get her deal. He’s a nice guy and he does damn good work. A bit creepy, but he’s got great composition.
    “You don’t get it. The photographer was with Mandy when she overdosed.” James took a swig of the hard liquor.
    “The Mandy? Shit.” Fred blew a low whistle and glanced over his shoulder again. “He hasn’t made the connection who she is to Mandy, or is he really that stupid?”
    “I don’t think he saw her that night and he wasn’t with us when she told us the story, so I don’t see how he could know.”
    Fred tapped the bar again. “Shit. She’s going to kill him, isn’t she?”
    James watched the couple’s reflection, watched how her fist tightned. “Yep, but not until he knows and not until she has made him suffer.”
    Fred ran his fingers through his hair. “Hell, all that man does is suffer.”