Leroy Dink. “Dinks” was the Willy Wonka of arcades. He was strange, odd, socially awkward, and moody. Unlike the chocolate factory, there was no need for a golden ticket to get into his whimsical haven for kids. Nope…if Dinks liked you and you had money to spend, you were welcome. If Dinks didn’t like you and you had money to spend, the money was welcome. Oh, and another thing about Dinks. If he really wasn’t fond of you, well, let me just say this. There’s no free men when he makes you play for your own life.
Alex began to walk slowly back in the direction he had just come from. As he did, he searched ahead scanning the area for his buddy who he could have swore was right behind him. He knew Marcus couldn’t have been playing around with him, he loved racing too much for that. He was extremely competitive and rarely loss at anything. It didn’t matter what they both faced off against. Still scouting for his friend, Alex passed the halfway rock, and as he did, he caught sight of what looked like Marcus’s foot poking out from a bunch of bushes. It seemed his friend might have actually bit the dirt. Had to be something like that. Whatever the reason, Alex was definitely going to have the last laugh now. Except, it was not going to be because he had finally won the race. There was that, but, there was also the fact that Marcus had to come all the way back to help his sorry ass. That’s another victory all of its own. There was a good chance he was hiding in those bushes up there trying to come up with an injury to fake in order to get the race declared a no contest. Realizing as much, Alex picked up his pace. He was not going to waste another second; he could not delay rubbing it in. Only, as he drew closer, he started to notice something didn’t look quite right. Marcus would have definitely begun with the excuses already. He would have sensed Alex by now. Crying “Do over”, or “Help, I tripped”, or his famous “I let you win that one”. Nothing. Instead, when Alex finally made it to his best friend, he was laying in the bushes faceup. He was barely moving. There was zero expression on his face. None at all. No look of pain, no look of shame, no crying, no laughter, no embarrassed excuse face. Nothing. He was completely blank. His eyes blackened, and his chest was moving up and down rapidly. He was taking in large deep breaths. One at a time, and releasing the air as if he were shushing someone for five seconds at a time.
Hey everybody, I’m going to get straight to it. This category is something I have been playing around with for a while now. The premise is I will take a photo I’ve found somewhere and draw whatever inspiration I can from it and write a short, maybe long story from it. Plus, I would like to offer the same opportunity to anyone who wants to follow my lead and use both the photo and/or story title as a prompt. I would love to see examples of other forms of inspiration. It doesn’t have to be a story either. It could be anything from a story, a poem, a song, anything your heart desires.
OK, here’s the beginning of this one for me. I have a few chapters done of this prompt, only I was too excited and reacted. I went with the moment and posted. #amwriting
Don’t forget to tell me what you think in the comments, and let’s see where this goes.
Enjoy!!!
SHE HAS NO PAST, YOU HAVE NO FUTURE # 1
By: Ash Douglas
Marcus, get up! Come on. It’s not funny. We have to go. Do you realize I needed to be home fifteen minutes ago? Not cool. You know, I’m going to be in deep shit again. My Uncle is going to kill me for sure this time. Marcus?
Earth To Ash 