The Playground

One comment on this one, about 2/3rds of the way through I realized I was writing a scene, not a story. As a scene it was coming along great. As a story it wasn’t doing much. I didn’t re-write the first part, just tried to make some kind of change happen as a resolution, so, meh.

Fourth Grade Spelling List
This is a ridiculous and fun little exercise. Try it!
Here’s another prompt that’s going to make it difficult for you to try to write a brilliant story. We’re focusing this week on productivity, quantity not quality. And here’s the secret, when you’re not too worried about the quality, you quite often find that your writing is better than you expected.
The Prompt
Write a story containing all of these words from a fourth grade spelling list.
Blame
State
Frame
Holiday
Relay
Waist
Pail
Gain
Raise
Mayor
Airplane
Remain
This is a ridiculous and fun little exercise. Try it!
<— Write Below This Line —>

“I can’t believe you got ‘airplane’ wrong on in the school spelling bee Sara.”
“I know. We practiced the list for hours and that should have been easy for me.”
“Let’s go to the park with the pail on the playground.”
Sara seemed a little distracted as she answered. “Sure, there’s almost never anyone using the swings there.”
A few minutes later Bridget sat down on the swing next to Sara. “So, what’s to blame here? There has to be something that made you mess that up.”
“I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind.”Sara kicked at the ground. “You know how my mom is doing the flowers for Mr. Ashbury’s retirement? Well, the Mayor’s going to be there.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Turns out the state senators are going to be there too. Something about the diner being added to the National Register of Historic Places when he retires. Now Mom’s all nervous. When she gets nervous it kind of spreads to Dad and Me.” Sara started pumping her legs.
“Which holiday weekend is that anyhow? I always forget.”
Sara slowed down her swing. “Memorial Day. Labor Day is when we’re starting school. Hey, can you give me an underdog?”
Bridget hopped down and got behind Sara. Grabbing Sara’s waist she pumped back and forth a couple of times before running all the way under her friend and collapsing on the ground in front of the swing. She rolled over and looked up. “Whys that got her worked up? Doesn’t that just mean she gains more business?”
“It means she has to raise the bar. She’s used the same setup for the last five years.”
“Oh. I can help if you need it ya know.”
Sara sighed as she slowed to a stop on the swing. “Yeah. I know. I’ll relay your message to my mom.”
“I know!” Bridget’s eyes lit up as she jumped to her feet. “Let’s go to your house and play Mrs. JumpyFlop!”
“What are we, six?” Now Sara seemed even more down.
“Well, what do you want to do?””
“I dunno. Go to the city?”
Bridget laughed. “Sure. Let’s stop for dinner at a fancy steakhouse while we’re there.”
Sara stuck her tongue out at Bridget. “You asked what I wanted to do. It’s not my fault we can’t do it.”
“Maybe we can do something almost as good?”
Sara looked over at Bridget. “What did you have in mind?”
Bridget ran back behind Sara again. “Please remain seated and keep your hands and feet inside the spacecraft at all times. Today’s journey is expected to be a little rough.”
“Wha, what are you…?!”
Bridget was already shaking the swing by the chain. “Prepare for liftoff. Kwhooosh!” She grabbed the chains at the seat and hung from them, pushing off the ground with her feet. Faster and faster, she started to turn circles as she went. “Hold on, we’re crossing through the asteroid belt now! The last three ships that tried this have never been heard from since!”
The girls were twisting in circles as they swung back and forth; both of them hanging on with all their might. Despite herself Sara was laughing joyously as she joined in. “Oh no, captain! There’s a huge asteroid on a collision course, what are we going to do?!”
“We’ve lost control, brace for impact!” Bridget suddenly pushed up on the seat bringing Sara crashing down on her. The girls were too dizzy to get up and just lay there under the swing, a mess of giggly limbs.
“Thanks Bridget, but next time we go to space I better be the pilot.”