Internal Dialogue

Prompt 70: Pick a character in a day time soap and put him or her in a stranded commuter train. Write about what he or she is feeling or thinking at that moment.

Internal Dialogue

Oh no, why are we stopped? I can’t be late to my appointment. I just can’t understand why all this is happening to me. What did I do to deserve all of this? First my father impregnated my sister, then my brother died in that horrible car accident. But wait, Andrew is still alive. I saw him yesterday. Or maybe that was just his ghost. It is so hard to tell. My mother comes back to talk to me all the time, so why can’t Andrew. I don’t know what we are going to do about Jessica’s baby. My father won’t let her give it up for adoption but here I am going to meet the adoptive parents. How was I supposed to know that the McKenna’s were adopting. Travis told me last night at the hotel that he was leaving his wife. Why isn’t the train moving yet? What am I going to say to Travis’s wife? I wonder if she will be prettier than me.



Your kids have spent years asking you to get them a dog. You finally break down and get them one only to discover that this dog talks but only to you. More interestingly your dog loves to gossip about your kids and their lives. Write a scene where the dog rats the kids out for doing something they shouldn’t.

I flipped my newspaper up higher, trying my best to avoid the brown eyed stare of Ben, the family dog. His tail thumped heavily on the hard wood floor.
“You can’t ignore me forever,” he said happily.
“I can try,” I muttered.
“I need to go.” He got up and paced to the door and back to my feet.
“Come on Ben, can’t you just open the door and let yourself out?”
He tilted his head to the side in what I was sure was supposed to be adorable. “No, I don’t have thumbs.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, rising from the chair. “Make it fast tonight.” I flipped the back porch light on and opened the door. Ben bounded out and down the steps. I stood waiting for him, rubbing my hands briskly over my arms. “You done yet?”
“Mom, who are you talking to?” Matthew, my oldest son asked from the screen door.
“No one.” I turned quickly. “Ben, but he wasn’t answering me,” I said quickly.
He raised his dark eyebrows. “Ok. I’m going to Randy’s. Be back in a few hours.”
“It’s kind of late.”
“Mom, I’m not a baby anymore.”
Right, I had forgotten how big he was getting. It was hard not to see him as a little kid anymore. “Yeah, I know. Be careful.” I watched sadly as he left. When had he gotten so big?
“You should have made him stay home you know,” Ben said bouncing back inside.
I followed and shut the door. “He’s old enough, why wouldn’t I?”
“He’s not going to randy’s.”
“What? Where is he going?”
My eyes widened. “Who’s that?”
“His girlfriend.” Ben sang the word into several syllables.
“I don’t…” I shook my head in disbelief.
“And everyone knows,” Ben continued, “that Ally likes to go all the way.”
My mouth dropped open. I had never signed up to raise teenagers

The Day My Boss Got Arrested For Prostitution

Prompt: You get into work and find that your boss has left a voicemail message on your phone. The message is urgent. Though, what’s peculiar is that the message is not work related. Write this scene.

The Message

I pulled my sleek black car into the parking lot and step out into the cool morning. My heels make a comforting click-clack sound as I cross the parking lot. Today was the day.
All these months of sleepless nights and crazy hours was finally going to pay off. I almost laughed out loud, but the elevator was full so I held it in.

A two toned beep alerted me to the fact that I had a voice mail. My eyebrows knitted together as I rummaged through my purse for my cell. I had not heard it ring. How odd. One Missed Call. I quickly punched in the numbers and pressed my ear to the phone to hear the message.

“Hey Elise,” the sound of my boss’s voice surprised me. “It’s me. Umm…I was wondering if you could come pick me up. I’m at the third precinct, on Harold Street. Ok, I’ll…see you later.”

My breath whooshed out of lungs. What in the world could have possibly happened between last night and this morning. Bee had left after me, so she really hadn’t had much time to get in trouble. I chewed nervously on the inside of my lip and glanced at my watch.

We were meeting with the board in just two hours. If I hurried…

I darted out the elevator doors as soon as they opened. I jammed the button impatiently on the other side. “going down” I tapped my foot in an annoying rhythm. I would have been irritated with someone like me.

Giving up on the elevator, I rushed to the stairwell and ran as fast as I could manage back to the parking garage. “Oh, this better be good,” I muttered as I fumbled with the keys.

Pushing any kind of luck I had, I made it to third street in ten minutes. I was out the door in a flash.

A bored looking woman sat behind the counter. “Hi,” I gushed, “I’m here to get Beatrice Anderson.” I set my purse on the counter and took my checkbook out. Maybe if she saw I was willing to pay, she would hurry up.

“Frank,” she called lazily, “She’s here to get the prost we picked up last night.”

“The what?”

Her eyes closed and opened again slowly. “That’s going to be 700 bucks to get her out.”

I nodded and wrote the check. She indicated with her eyes for me to look behind me. My mouth dropped open in shock. Bee was coming out of a closed door dressed in a tight black skirt and an equally tight top.

“What are you wearing?” I asked in shock.

“Let’s go,” she responded without giving me any answers.

“What were you arrested for?”

“Prostitution,” the police officer answered for her.

“Really?”  Her lips grew very thin.  “Maybe you could use that today in the meeting we’re goimg to be late to.”  I pursed my lips and followed her out the door.


Prompt: I don’t think anyone is really reading this, so for today I am going to post an exerpt from my book that I am working on.

Being a werewolf is harder than it looks. Everyone thinks it is just “morph at the full moon, kill, morph back”. That’s not true. It is a lot harder than that, especially if you are 17 years old. All I wanted at the start of my junior year in high school was to stay in one place long enough to make a friend. Staying in one place was hard for Bella. She never could keep herself out of trouble.

I sighed deeply, almost groaning, as I began to unpack my things. I was a professional mover by the time I was 17. I left all my clothes in two trunks that I set up against the wall. Bella always managed to rent houses that were furnished, but I hardly used the dresser or closets, trunks were easier. This house was nicer though because I didn’t have to share a room with Ivy. She was just one year younger than me, but we were worlds apart. She saw humans as beneath her, and all I wanted was to be one of them. I tucked my hair absently behind my ears. After Bella told us two years ago that long hair made a woman beautiful, I kept mine short. It just barely went below my chin. It was more red than blond, but somehow managed to look orange. I had a natural curl in my hair, but it was so tight that it often just ended up frizzy. I thought I looked like a young Molly Ringwald. My eyes were a pale green and my skin was extremely fair. I don’t know what color Molly’s eyes were. I liked to fantasize that Molly would adopt me and tell everyone I was her daughter.

My sister Ivy, however, loved the life that we had. There was only one time that I could recall when she had thrown a fit about moving. She had gotten herself a boyfriend and refused to go. We stayed there for six months, the longest we had stayed in one place for the last three years. Then ivy turned 13. She morphed in front of her boyfriend. His obituary said he died in a house fire. Bella had laughed and congratulated Ivy on her first kill. It was disgusting, but I think Ivy felt bad. At any rate, she never had another boyfriend. She had a lot of guys asking too. She was beautiful, in the worldly way. She had red hair like mine, but hers was a rich auburn color and she kept it long. And of course, her natural curl was more of just a wave that flowed down her back. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and she used them to her advantage. I don’t believe she did any of her own homework in the last town we stayed.

I shook my head and thought ahead to Monday. School would start. A new start. Maybe in this school, I could be a cheerleader, I thought forlornly. I always thought that if I had remained human I would have been one of those bubbly cheerleading types. True, not much sustenance for adulthood, but I was 17 and I wanted to be bubbly. I wanted the quarter back of the football team to pass me in the hall and say “Hey Willow, what’s up” as he flirtatiously winked at the girl next to me. “Its not fair,” I mumbled under my breath.


Prompt 62: A funny thing happened on my way to…


A funny thing happened on my way to Atlantis. My brother and I were going to find the legendary city under the sea. When we got there, we were pretty sure that we would find mermaids and swim with the dolphins. Only the dolphins wouldn’t be like regular dolphins, they would be the pets of the mermaids. The mer – people, as they prefer to be called, would have leashes and take their dolphins for walks. We were excited to see the path ways that were probably green with seaweed. The king, of course, would have his triton, causing hurricanes. I was pretty sure that we could talk him into keeping them away from the land. Then we would be heroes. But then a funny thing happened on the way. My mom informed us that we would have to travel a long way to get to the ocean. Who knew that Atlantis was in the ocean?


Prompt 57: Try to use all of the words in a story: plastic bottle, hockey puck, dirty handkerchief, crumpled note, unhinged door.

The Choice:

Mary-Anne Marsh took out the crumpled note and smoothed it on the table with the back of her hand. She straightened her rim-rod back and took a deep breath through her dainty nose. She scooted herself on the cushioned kitchen chair. She took another deep breath, still not daring to look at the words that she already knew were there. Very slowly she let her pale green eyes look down the end of her nose to glance at the note again.

“My dearest Annie,” She gasped slightly and crumpled the note again. She covered her perfectly shaped mouth with her well-manicured fingers. How could he do this to her? And to send the note to her office. She brought her hand to her chest, trying to calm her heart. Anyone could have seen the private message. Why after all these years did he want to talk to her? And why did her heart still have to react to him?

Her small round chin quivered as she straightened the paper again. Just four lines, four lines that had changed so much.

“My dearest Annie,I know you are angry about the way I left. I had to though Annie. Please let me explain things and maybe we can…I don’t know. Meet me at “our” house…tonight at eight.”

Mary, as she liked to be called now, crumpled the note for the last time and tossed it into the waste basket. Then, on a whim, she took it back out and shoved it into her purse, she would throw it away later outside of the house. It would never do for Anthony to find it. She couldn’t stop the shiver that went down her spine.

Anthony had agreed to marry her only on the strict agreement that she would never speak of that “other man” again. And really, what choice did she have? Danny had left her alone, broken, and penniless. When rich business man, Anthony Marsh offered a way out, she took it. Consequences be damned. Now, six years later, the note.

Mary pulled the car to a stop outside of an abandoned house. “their house” was in fact just an old house that probably should have been torn down, but they had big dreams. Dreams that had been cut short. Mary laid her head on the steering wheel. What was she doing? Determined that answers were all she wanted, Mary got out of the car and stomped the short way to the unhinged front door.

She kicked a plastic bottle out of her way, and stepped over a dirty handkerchief on the floor. “Danny?” she called softly. She had to fight her way over dirty trash, broken glass, pop cans, and even an old hockey puck until she got to a small room. “Danny?” Where was he?

In the shadows behind a door Danny watched as the beautiful red head stepped in. his breathing accelerated until he had to put his hand over his mouth so she wouldn’t hear him. His eyes throbbed a dull red. In the pale moon light, Danny’s snarls became louder.