Writing Prompt Update: Prompt will last for a full month to give you time to add your stories, and to have it be as it's intended- an inpiration not just another task to accomplish. Don't forget to post a link to your own story in the comments section of this post. I'll add links to the post as they come in.
Here's the prompt from Writer's Digest: You wake up in a darkened circus tent, wearing a bright blue and yellow clown costume and a fluffy red wig. There is a dwarf standing over you with bucket of water. "You okay?" he asks. Write this scene. (750 words or less)
Here's my scene, enjoy!
photo/picture credits:
Stock.xchng:
Circus
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Big Top Proposal
By, D.L. Diener
This wasn’t my room. And that wasn’t my alarm clock. It was most definitely a shoe. A red shoe, belonging to a small man wearing a red satin diaper and wings. “Cupid?”
“You okay?” he growled.
I nodded, though I couldn’t be certain I was. But, I knew I didn’t want to look at him any longer. “Is that a bucket?”
He was holding a pail of some kind over my head.
“Show’s been over for thirty minutes. Harry’s pissed. We gotta get a move on. I figured this’d wake you up.” He lowered the bucket, turned and waddled away, water sloshing over the top with every other step.
You’d think this would ring some bells but I was at a loss.
I went to stand up but the sight of my shoes knocked me back.
Even in the dim lantern light, I could tell they were bright yellow shoes, and oversized. My legs were clad in opposing primary tones of cornflower and mustard. A clown costume? I forced my hands to my face and crossed my eyes to look at my nose. If I’d had a red one, it must have fallen off along the way. My fingers crept up to where my hair ought to be, but an exaggerated afro was in the way. I pulled it off my head. The cherry on the sundae. Same color, too. I shook my head. I hate clowns. They gave me the creeps. What had I gotten myself into?
“Sanders!” He sounded like a bulldog. Harry I guessed.
I scrambled to my feet.
The stout, bald man scoffed at me. He stomped towards me, stopping just inches from my face. He was shorter than I was, but he intimidated me.
“That was the most foolish, awful, amateurish, stupid stunt I have ever seen.” His face looked like a bulldog’s, too. “Don’t you ever set foot in any of my rings again!”
Spittle landed on my cheek, I tried not to flinch.
His tirade went on for some time. Something about cleaning up elephant dung and giving the Tree Man a bath. I was certain I’d never go anywhere near a circus again. And that was fine with me. I couldn’t figure out what possessed me to go there in the first place.
I watch Harry disappear into the blackness of the night, still growling rebukes, and I decided I’d better head that way, too.
The tent flaps fell closed behind me and I nearly walked into her.
“Excuse me; I didn’t see you there, I…” She was stunning. Even with glittering pink eye shadow and thick black eye liner, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I tried to loose my tongue to speak to her, but it was stuck.
“Robert that was the bravest, sweetest, most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me!”
Without warning, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me with glistening ruby lips. I couldn’t let her kindness go unreciprocated, so I kissed back.
When we came up for air, she held my face and locked eyes with me.
“You nearly killed yourself you big oaf.”
I shrugged and decided to ‘fess up to the truth. “I’m not really sure what happened.”
She started feeling my head. “Do you have a concussion? What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I… I, ah…,”
She squinted, “Robert, do you know who I am?”
I guess I waited too long.
“Zara? Your wife?” she looked exasperated. “Our fifteenth wedding anniversary?”
I couldn’t help it, my chin dropped.
“Robert! We’re going to the hospital now.”
My apparent wife told me all about it on the way there. How I’d promised to help her live out her childhood dream of tight-rope walking, the circus training camp, proposing to her all over again, on one knee, in the middle of the tightrope. I figured that was when I fell.
The interior of the car felt familiar. The small plastic bag hanging from the radio knob for trash. The scent of overly concentrated lavender escaping the fake candle jar that hung from the rear view mirror. Now that I thought about it, the gray strands in her hair underneath the streaks of hot pink seemed familiar, too.
I kept staring at her. She was so beautiful.
“What are you looking at?” Her eyebrows knit together.
“I’m just feeling like the luckiest man on earth, for the second time in my life.”
“Oh,” she grinned. “Guess that makes two of us.”
---------------
Big Top Proposal
By, D.L. Diener
This wasn’t my room. And that wasn’t my alarm clock. It was most definitely a shoe. A red shoe, belonging to a small man wearing a red satin diaper and wings. “Cupid?”
“You okay?” he growled.
I nodded, though I couldn’t be certain I was. But, I knew I didn’t want to look at him any longer. “Is that a bucket?”
He was holding a pail of some kind over my head.
“Show’s been over for thirty minutes. Harry’s pissed. We gotta get a move on. I figured this’d wake you up.” He lowered the bucket, turned and waddled away, water sloshing over the top with every other step.
You’d think this would ring some bells but I was at a loss.
I went to stand up but the sight of my shoes knocked me back.
Even in the dim lantern light, I could tell they were bright yellow shoes, and oversized. My legs were clad in opposing primary tones of cornflower and mustard. A clown costume? I forced my hands to my face and crossed my eyes to look at my nose. If I’d had a red one, it must have fallen off along the way. My fingers crept up to where my hair ought to be, but an exaggerated afro was in the way. I pulled it off my head. The cherry on the sundae. Same color, too. I shook my head. I hate clowns. They gave me the creeps. What had I gotten myself into?
“Sanders!” He sounded like a bulldog. Harry I guessed.
I scrambled to my feet.
The stout, bald man scoffed at me. He stomped towards me, stopping just inches from my face. He was shorter than I was, but he intimidated me.
“That was the most foolish, awful, amateurish, stupid stunt I have ever seen.” His face looked like a bulldog’s, too. “Don’t you ever set foot in any of my rings again!”
Spittle landed on my cheek, I tried not to flinch.
His tirade went on for some time. Something about cleaning up elephant dung and giving the Tree Man a bath. I was certain I’d never go anywhere near a circus again. And that was fine with me. I couldn’t figure out what possessed me to go there in the first place.
I watch Harry disappear into the blackness of the night, still growling rebukes, and I decided I’d better head that way, too.
The tent flaps fell closed behind me and I nearly walked into her.
“Excuse me; I didn’t see you there, I…” She was stunning. Even with glittering pink eye shadow and thick black eye liner, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I tried to loose my tongue to speak to her, but it was stuck.
“Robert that was the bravest, sweetest, most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me!”Without warning, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me with glistening ruby lips. I couldn’t let her kindness go unreciprocated, so I kissed back.
When we came up for air, she held my face and locked eyes with me.
“You nearly killed yourself you big oaf.”
I shrugged and decided to ‘fess up to the truth. “I’m not really sure what happened.”
She started feeling my head. “Do you have a concussion? What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I… I, ah…,”
She squinted, “Robert, do you know who I am?”
I guess I waited too long.
“Zara? Your wife?” she looked exasperated. “Our fifteenth wedding anniversary?”
I couldn’t help it, my chin dropped.
“Robert! We’re going to the hospital now.”
My apparent wife told me all about it on the way there. How I’d promised to help her live out her childhood dream of tight-rope walking, the circus training camp, proposing to her all over again, on one knee, in the middle of the tightrope. I figured that was when I fell.
The interior of the car felt familiar. The small plastic bag hanging from the radio knob for trash. The scent of overly concentrated lavender escaping the fake candle jar that hung from the rear view mirror. Now that I thought about it, the gray strands in her hair underneath the streaks of hot pink seemed familiar, too.
I kept staring at her. She was so beautiful.
“What are you looking at?” Her eyebrows knit together.
“I’m just feeling like the luckiest man on earth, for the second time in my life.”
“Oh,” she grinned. “Guess that makes two of us.”
2 comments:
WOW! Love. This. Besides the super fun story line (clowns do creep me out, but the idea of a guy doing this is hysterical!), your writing was so crisp and full of action. I'm inspired and totally entertained. Thanks :)
Well super thanks, Di! You just made my morning (and trust me, I needed that smile).
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