Let Them Eat Cake

“You’re not fat.”

“What do you mean, I’m not fat? I didn’t say anything about it.”

“Well, you implied –”

“I didn’t imply – this is imply –”

“Ow! Hey!”

“That was imply.” She had knocked him on the forehead with the rather un-fleshy base of her palm. The question was whether she should have a second piece of wedding cake; there was plenty and it was so good that it was almost impossible not to. And for her, as is often the truth behind mysterious shadows in the brain, two more pieces of cake would not have harmed her; and for him, as is often the case for mysterious reasons in society, even the piece that he had was easily overlooked by all despite its detrimental contribution. He had tried, charitably, to make the benefit of the cake clear to her, or rather, to mitigate the severity of her self-hatred, and his words were too abrupt, too suddenly sour. But it was just a conjugal moment – they would both be eating more cake shortly, and he would say not in vain that he loved her.

Write a Plot (any old plot)

It’s a perfect day for washing the car, but Eric doesn’t have any car washing soap. He goes to the drugstore to buy some. While he’s there he runs into an ex-girlfriend, Jessica; she gets to the checkout just before him. They strike up an odd conversation about how it’s been a long time, how they each have families, and how they didn’t know they were living in the same neighborhood. After Jessica is done checking out, she looks confusedly at Eric, seems to want to wait for him, but leaves abruptly, saying goodbye, even though Eric is just buying the soap.

Write a Story in a Single Sentence

This topic was contributed by John, along with some other excellent ideas to come later. Thanks, John!

Melvin woke at four, sank his teeth into a steak – breakfast for men – assumed his long day of work; he took a break for a steak lunch – lunch for men – and continued to round up the cattle, whom he had names for; he finished the day with a light tomato salad – tomato, scallions, parsley, thyme, grapefruit – and went to sleep contented that he knew what he was doing.

Include the Description of a Room

I preferred mood lighting the first time I wooed a man before killing him. I always have the room arranged, but you can imagine that I took special care. The walls I had done in a light pea, a dresser placed in burgundy; it was not my actual dresser, nor would I do this in my own room – can you imagine? wouldn’t that seem…false? The bed was sleek, refined, modern, something to suggest the arousal of the loose generation; white sheets, white sheets; I procured a tall backed chair for the throwing on of coats and clothes, amidst smiling and laughing. And this, this was the coup de grace: a sword hanging on hooks beside the great hanging mirror that overlooked the bed; when he saw it, what could have gone through his mind?

Use the Linked-To Painting in Any Way You See Fit

Amherst Campus, No. 1 - By Fairfield Porter

Whosever idea it was to stake that tree had a sumptuous design, wouldn’t you say, Fairfield, connecting two disparate realms?

Yes.

I just love late-summer avocado.

The fruit.

No, no – the color – have you ever seen so many early autumn avocado?

Whose car is that?

A late bloomer.

Write, Focusing on the Sense of Smell

The cheese was where they took you first, rather than to the subtler smells. Here you learned “grass”, “ash”, “brine”, “nutty”, “fresh”, and even “caramel”. “Caramel?” I asked. Yes, on this Vermont brie; get a whiff of the rind. There was nothing to be done except obey orders; I found that the brink of madness stank like wild cotton, and that summer, too, that epiphany was like fresh dresses drying on the line.

Write About the Moment at which Sleep Takes Place

line
breaks
to
line
how
ember
crests
to
ash

Write for a Child

He burst into fine laughter at the loop of the plane. The plane was red, it had yellow wings; he loved the soft clouds it made. Nothing like a hot dog with ketchup, and ice cream, on a summer day at the air show! There was nothing like it in the world!

Write a Treatise Using No More Than 40 Syllables

Photography requires light, a camera, and a view. Its art is making images, using the media of film or data, sans apparent motion.

Pretend You are a Thief Scoping Out your New Neighbor

Say what you want about me, but know I leave the weak alone. So the first thing I’ll do is go over to invite the man shooting. If he says no, flat out, then I know he doesn’t own a gun; check that off. They usually say no. If he comes along, and if he doesn’t shark me out of some money; and if it winds up that after a couple hours he hasn’t hit a damn thing, then I don’t worry about that. That’s step one.

The family that just moved here last week – four kids. That’s step two. And I hate these traditional moms – that’s step three. You wonder why the shooting comes first? I just like to make sure that remains an art. In my line of work, you have to set boundaries. It’s like a sad person who refuses to drink a beer by himself in the morning.

Rewrite the Last Paragraph of a Favorite Book

With the gardeners, Elizabeth was always on the most intimate terms. Darcy, for the well-being of Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing her into love with Derbyshire, had been the means of her reconsideration.

Write Positively About Something You Dislike

I would gladly give you ten dollars to see fantastic gore lavished on the screen. There is nothing so intricate and well-planned as a dismemberment. Put my heart through its paces, keep my brain fit and humming through the night, trim my reflexes; when they come after me, I will be the first to slip their grasp.

Meet Someone You Know, Years Later

This exercise was generously suggested by Kate. Thanks, Kate! Note that the name of the person in the exercise has been changed, although it is inspired by a real person.

“My God! Ernest?” I was just then walking down an aisle at the supermarket, pushing my cart slowly, kind of eyeing the canned tomatoes, when I had looked up and seen this other man doing the same. He pulled his attention to me, his look fixed, as though I needed to be decided on. “Adam: it’s me, Adam.”

His face believed into a bright smile: “You freaking bastard! What the hell are you doing here?”

I smiled, too; I had already been smiling. “Well” – thinking that his manner of expression hadn’t really changed – “I guess I’m grocery shopping.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“This is pretty freaky.”

“Do you live around here? I live over on Myrtle.”

“Oh my God – since when? I’ve been living on Blue Oak for like five years.”

“Get outta here.” He thought for a moment and said, “You know, now that we’re seventy freaking years old, maybe we should just play cards and drink a beer on the porch.”

“Oh good – it’ll be like playing Magic.”

“Oh shit, don’t remind me!”