Thread: Writing Prompt

Here's a writing prompt I found a while back--See if you can in 500 words or less come up with a story.

While standing at the baggage claim on an airport, you spot a woman. She wears a black cocktail dress and matching heels. The woman leans over and picks up a small wrapped box. What's in it? Is she meeting someone?

I am curious as to what you will come up with

Originally Posted by BillinNC

While standing at the baggage claim on an airport, you spot a woman. She wears a black cocktail dress and matching heels. The woman leans over and picks up a small wrapped box. What's in it? Is she meeting someone?

She picks up the small wrapped box and quickly looks around to see if anyone appears to be searching... after a quick scan of the area she quickly finds her luggage and walks to a near by bench. She starts to open the package and is stopped midway by a tall, blonde woman.

The two women walk off together down the aisle closest to the door. The blonde hails a taxi cab and the two quickly put their belongings in the trunk of the cab. They get into the cab and through the window one can see their shadows coming together, faces blending into one for a brief second.

Before the cab pulls away the women in the cocktail dress opens the door, and sets the box down. They drive away.

Moments later a police officer and his canine companion walk by the box, the dog stops, sniffs and quickly sits down. The officer is confused and walks over to dog, pats his head and gives a the command to continue, the dog does not budge.

Only minutes later and the airport is completely closed, everyone is evaucated and the prints on the box are being ran.

Surreal---sounds like you've got the beginnings to a good story

What can I say its like diarrhea with me, just keeps on coming lol

The woman leaned across, past myself, and picked up a strangely shaped package from the moving conveyor belt. She was clad in a tight, black dress, and matching shoes, which had straps that wrapped their way up her thin, tanned ankles.

The package looked odd in her arms. It was large and wrapped in a light brown paper. She struggled with it for several minutes, trying to hold it i a way easy to carry. After trying it in many positions, she settled with it held tight to her body in between her arms.

Having yanked my suitcase from the conveyor belt, i followed her out of the airport, wanting to see were she went. To my great surprise, upon exiting the building she began to unwrap the parcel. Inside laid a big piece of metal that had been folder over. I couldn't quite make out what it was until she pulled it from the paper and unfolded it. A scooter! I stood in amazement as she stood on the board and rode off into the night on her scooter.

Heather

lol great heather. loved it lol.

Heather---interesting story idea...I would have never thought of that myself--good job.

She started to un-wrap the box that was so obviously a gift from him. I can’t believe it. She had worn the dress, the dress I bought her, the dress I told her she looked so beautiful and sexy in, the dress that she now wore for him.

Little did she know he wasn’t coming to the airport to pick her up this time. I walked up to her, so close that I could smell her perfume. Damn bitch, you would wear the perfume I bought you on our anniversary. She glances at me, at first not realizing who I am, and then she looks at me with wide eyes.

“What are you doing here, George?”

I don’t’ say anything, I just make sure she sees the gun I have hidden under my coat. She knows I will do it, she knows I will blow her brains out in front of all these people. I don’t give a shit anymore.

We walk to the parking garage. Her knees are shaking from walking in the ridiculous heels, and I can tell she is nervous. We get to a black SUV and I open the back for her to see what I brought her. Before she has time to scream I shove her in with the dead and mutilated body of Luke.

He was the preacher from our church back home, and they had been seeing each other for the last year. But, finally she had made a mistake, the mistake really. She forgot to delete the text messages on her phone, and I, being the jealous fuck that I am, went through them. Now she was going to pay, and she knew it.

The drive is about 30 minutes long. She is trying to persuade me, “George, I love you, don’t do this,” and “George, we can work it out. It was a mistake,” and finally “George, if you would have paid me more attention I wouldn’t have been forced into this.”

God damn it! She would try to pin it on me! Fucking whore!

I reach back and grab her head, ready to break her neck with my bare hands. Suddenly there is a crash. We are flying. I look into her eyes, and kiss her. “I loved you.”

***

Mary got out of the patrol car. She hated these days. Why couldn’t people just drive in a strait lane and not go off the road? Now there was a totaled SUV, no survivors, and, what is this? She bent down to pick up a small package, a gift of some sort. She opened it to find a diamond tennis bracelet. Hmm. Well, I don’t see how this could have caused the accident, and besides, the dead fuckers owe me for ruining my day. She slips the bracelet in her pocket, and walks toward the accident.

Originally Posted by heatherlouise

The woman leaned across, past myself, and picked up a strangely shaped package from the moving conveyor belt. She was clad in a tight, black dress, and matching shoes, which had straps that wrapped their way up her thin, tanned ankles.

The package looked odd in her arms. It was large and wrapped in a light brown paper. She struggled with it for several minutes, trying to hold it i a way easy to carry. After trying it in many positions, she settled with it held tight to her body in between her arms.

Having yanked my suitcase from the conveyor belt, i followed her out of the airport, wanting to see were she went. To my great surprise, upon exiting the building she began to unwrap the parcel. Inside laid a big piece of metal that had been folder over. I couldn't quite make out what it was until she pulled it from the paper and unfolded it. A scooter! I stood in amazement as she stood on the board and rode off into the night on her scooter.

Heather

LOL, great.

Originally Posted by Charlie_Eleanor

She started to un-wrap the box that was so obviously a gift from him. I can’t believe it. She had worn the dress, the dress I bought her, the dress I told her she looked so beautiful and sexy in, the dress that she now wore for him.

Little did she know he wasn’t coming to the airport to pick her up this time. I walked up to her, so close that I could smell her perfume. Damn bitch, you would wear the perfume I bought you on our anniversary. She glances at me, at first not realizing who I am, and then she looks at me with wide eyes.

“What are you doing here, George?”

I don’t’ say anything, I just make sure she sees the gun I have hidden under my coat. She knows I will do it, she knows I will blow her brains out in front of all these people. I don’t give a shit anymore.

We walk to the parking garage. Her knees are shaking from walking in the ridiculous heels, and I can tell she is nervous. We get to a black SUV and I open the back for her to see what I brought her. Before she has time to scream I shove her in with the dead and mutilated body of Luke.

He was the preacher from our church back home, and they had been seeing each other for the last year. But, finally she had made a mistake, the mistake really. She forgot to delete the text messages on her phone, and I, being the jealous fuck that I am, went through them. Now she was going to pay, and she knew it.

The drive is about 30 minutes long. She is trying to persuade me, “George, I love you, don’t do this,” and “George, we can work it out. It was a mistake,” and finally “George, if you would have paid me more attention I wouldn’t have been forced into this.”

God damn it! She would try to pin it on me! Fucking whore!

I reach back and grab her head, ready to break her neck with my bare hands. Suddenly there is a crash. We are flying. I look into her eyes, and kiss her. “I loved you.”

***

Mary got out of the patrol car. She hated these days. Why couldn’t people just drive in a strait lane and not go off the road? Now there was a totaled SUV, no survivors, and, what is this? She bent down to pick up a small package, a gift of some sort. She opened it to find a diamond tennis bracelet. Hmm. Well, I don’t see how this could have caused the accident, and besides, the dead fuckers owe me for ruining my day. She slips the bracelet in her pocket, and walks toward the accident.

WOW talk about storytelling...This grabbed me from the very beginning until the last sentence. I would love to see more...

See what a writing prompt can do?

God DAmn PIggs! Crap one more reason to add to my list lol

It couldn't be. It wasn't her. I looked away so no one would see me staring. No!
How could the box have arrived already? I thought we had the situation under control, those bumbling fools! Now SHE had the box, her of all people. No, I must keep my cool.
I looked back down at the baggage claim. I saw my bag heading towards me. I turned back to her. Now she was standing, carefully checking the box.
How could we have been so stupid! I reached down to grab my bag but found instead something cold and smooth at my fingertips. A snake! I jumped back from the coiling body coming from inside my bag.
I looked around the airport. Where was everybody? Suddenly I felt a small round piece of metal pushed into my back. I stood straight up and barely breathed.
"Bryan Welsner."
I knew that voice. I also knew what that voice was going to say.
"Well, well. Fancy seeing you here."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw HER. She held the box under her left arm and a gun in her right hand. She flicked the gun barrel and then I saw more people. Flight attendants, passengers.
Then it all fit together. Oooh, it was clever. I couldn't believe I was so stupid! My mind jumped back to the present and I heard some of them talking.
The gun in my back moved a bit as the deep voiced holder of it spoke.
"We've got him. Our work here is done."
"But what about the rest of them? And the box?"
I moved just my eyes and saw obviously a new guy.
"You remember Clivern?" He was talking to me now. "A spy. Our spy." Then he laughed, and I really saw the puzzle putting itself together.
"We got them all. The box," She was talking. Her dress swished as she stepped into my view. She took the box from under her arm and laughed. "A decoy. Now we'll be one crime ring less once we've escorted you to where you belong. New York City Jailhouse."

Originally Posted by Charlie_Eleanor

She started to un-wrap the box that was so obviously a gift from him. I can’t believe it. She had worn the dress, the dress I bought her, the dress I told her she looked so beautiful and sexy in, the dress that she now wore for him.

Little did she know he wasn’t coming to the airport to pick her up this time. I walked up to her, so close that I could smell her perfume. Damn bitch, you would wear the perfume I bought you on our anniversary. She glances at me, at first not realizing who I am, and then she looks at me with wide eyes.

“What are you doing here, George?”

I don’t’ say anything, I just make sure she sees the gun I have hidden under my coat. She knows I will do it, she knows I will blow her brains out in front of all these people. I don’t give a shit anymore.

We walk to the parking garage. Her knees are shaking from walking in the ridiculous heels, and I can tell she is nervous. We get to a black SUV and I open the back for her to see what I brought her. Before she has time to scream I shove her in with the dead and mutilated body of Luke.

He was the preacher from our church back home, and they had been seeing each other for the last year. But, finally she had made a mistake, the mistake really. She forgot to delete the text messages on her phone, and I, being the jealous fuck that I am, went through them. Now she was going to pay, and she knew it.

The drive is about 30 minutes long. She is trying to persuade me, “George, I love you, don’t do this,” and “George, we can work it out. It was a mistake,” and finally “George, if you would have paid me more attention I wouldn’t have been forced into this.”

God damn it! She would try to pin it on me! Fucking whore!

I reach back and grab her head, ready to break her neck with my bare hands. Suddenly there is a crash. We are flying. I look into her eyes, and kiss her. “I loved you.”

***

Mary got out of the patrol car. She hated these days. Why couldn’t people just drive in a strait lane and not go off the road? Now there was a totaled SUV, no survivors, and, what is this? She bent down to pick up a small package, a gift of some sort. She opened it to find a diamond tennis bracelet. Hmm. Well, I don’t see how this could have caused the accident, and besides, the dead fuckers owe me for ruining my day. She slips the bracelet in her pocket, and walks toward the accident.

girl, you had me scared for a few minutes there.
that was some kinda good stuff.

Sorry, no idea how many words this is ><

This is why I call myself a people watcher. Where ever you go, whatever you're doing, you can always find someone or something interesting. Hell, sometimes you can find both.

That dress, how supple it was, moving so tight over the contours of her figure; it cling to her like some kind of extra inviting skin. She was graceful in her movements. But sharp in her step. The click-clack of her heels somehow accented the soft rise and fall motion of her hips. My God, with curves like that, a man could get sea-sick. I think I am in love... or heat at least.

I couldn't hear what she was asking the man at the baggage counter from where I was sitting. From where I was though, I could see he was just as amazed (or lustful) as I am. Poor boy couldn't shut his mouth, standing their slack-jawed and wide-eyed. You gotta play it smooth my friend. Smooth -- and that ain't it, kid.

As she turned from the boy, I took note of the small package she had come for. I could only imagine what it was, what someone like her could be coming to pick up. Maybe some kind of specialty order. Or something she didn't want her husband (if she was married) or boyfriend (lucky prick) to see. Maybe she lead another life? Something more risqu&#233;, perhaps -- more mysterious? As far as I'm concerned, that gives me just as much chance as anyone else here, regardless of attachments.

She was making her way in my direction now. Had to play it cool. Didn't want her to see I had been eye-balling her from the start. A woman like can't know she has you by the balls already, using your penis like a some kind of joystick to do what she wants. No, I preferred to think of my penis as a woman divining rod -- always pointing me in the right direction.

I lifted my newspaper, smooth and natural, pretending I had been engrossed in something I couldn't give a shit about. I started mapping out my strategy for following her after she walked by. I would tail her, bump into her maybe knocking that package out of her hand, and start from there. The classic 'oh excuse me' line always works. Can't forget the classics...

Didn't need to get that far.

I felt my seat jutter as she sat next to me. Her perfume seem to permeate all my senses at once, bring them to life and elevating my desire. From the corner of my eye I glanced at her, her raven hair falling over the side of her cheek keeping me from getting a complete picture of her face. But I'd seen enough, with a figure like that she could have a baboon's face grafted to her head and I wouldn't care. Besides, someone this exquisite is always beautiful. I read that somewhere... Darwinian law or some shit.

As we sat there, I let my eye's follow down to that package in her lap. I watched as her fingers (which seem kind of... I dunno... meaty) began to unwrap the box. With a strong jerk, she snapped the tape keeping it shut. She must work-out.

I turned a page.

My eye's shifted back to her direction, looking for an reason to be able to turn my head towards her. There it was, a clock on the wall... perfect. I lowered my paper as I turned to look at the clock, shifting my weight in the seat to more properly face her. It was then I noticed the book in her lap, that those meaty fingers, attached to those meaty hands clutched. A book called: Sex Changes and you. The final step to losing your penis.

For fuck sakes, why does this shit always happen to me.

Checkmate has been moved to the Writer's Workshop.

***
Doggone it, Bill! I tried sooo hard not to click on this prompt because I knew I'd end up spending time writing it! (Hello, I'm Foxee and I'm a writing challenge addict...) Anyway, it's 491 words, maybe a little predictable...but boy was it fun to write.


Thanks for a good prompt.