Welcome to the fifth week of the Spring Writing Challenge!
You all did so well with your stories last week! There were so many interesting and unique ways you interpreted the prompt. It’s now the fifth week, so it’s time to do it again! Will your story have fairies? Time travel? Ghosts?! Whatever you decide, we can’t wait to see what you come up with.
So, without further ado, here’s your next prompt!
Week Five Prompt – The Sentence Prompt
Write a story that includes the following sentence:
Needless to say, this wasn’t the first time…
Wait…what’s a sentence prompt?
A sentence prompt is a prompt that uses a particular sentence. It doesn’t matter where your story takes place, who’s in it, or what’s said. The only thing that matters is that your story must include the sentence, “Needless to say, this wasn’t the first time.”
Before you start writing, we have some important rules for you to follow.
Writing Rules
1. Please keep the content of the stories you post to a PG rating. Please avoid real curse words. Violence/fighting should be limited and purposeful. Please do not include any spice.
2. Your story must be 1,000 words or less, and must contain the prompt to be counted for the challenge. You’re not required to post it in order to “win” the challenge, but if you want it to count for your team, your story must be posted by Sunday at 11:59 PM ET, and you must include your team name.
Remember to scroll all the way to the bottom of the page and post your story as an “answer” to this question, not a “comment”. 🙂 You’re all doing such a great job! I’m so proud of all the stories you’ve posted.
Happy Writing!
“Truth Is Told”
By: Hannah Stiff, Team A
I was halfway down the great stairs when Reynard called me.
“Your Highness? Your presence is requested in the East Sitting Room.” His stoic face betrayed nothing, but I knew. Needless to say, this wasn’t the first time.
“Reynard, please!” I begged, running down the steps to meet him. “I’m about to go out for my ride!”
My head butler stood undaunted. “Her Majesty your Aunt Edith insists upon it.”
I glanced at the French doors leading outside.
“And should you choose to turn tail and run,” he continued, his voice never changing its methodical cant, “we shall be forced to give chase and bring Your Highness to the sitting room under duress.”
“And Your Highness knows,” he added apologetically, “we are well able to.”
Twenty years of Reynard’s service had taught me that he sported a fine physique underneath his coattails, and any resistance would be humiliating and futile.
“Very well.” I grimaced and yanked a glove off. “But for your personal information Reynard, were it not for your long standing in this family, I’d turn you out as a traitor!”
“We’re most sorry to hear that, Your Highness.” Reynard bowed his head, and turning, led the way to the sitting room.
I sighed and marched after him. “What does this latest candidate look like?”
“We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him, Your Highness.”
Since becoming coregent six months earlier, my aunt had decided part of her duties included matchmaking. This “surprise” visitor would be her sixth attempt.
“My coronation is a year away,” I glared at my passing reflection in a hall mirror, “and she thinks she can get me married off before her duties are over?”
“It would appear so,” Reynard agreed mildly.
“She’d better think again,” I mumbled as the sitting room appeared.
“We shall leave you, assuming Your Highness will not try to pull, what some would call, ‘a fast one’?” Reynard paused, giving me the eye.
“I won’t escape, if that’s what you mean.”
Reynard bowed again, and began his unruffled stroll down the hallway.
I glowered at his retiring back, then turned to face the door. My eye caught the potted hibiscus to the left of the entrance, and a wicked idea suddenly hatched in my head. With a swipe, I grabbed a handful of soil and began to rub it liberally into my breeches. I smeared the remainder on my cheeks and sleeves before yanking my blouse out. “In for a penny,” I murmured with a smirk, and plucked the pins from my bun, letting my coarse hair fly out like a flock of crows.
This would give any red faced Polish count or gloomy Spanish earl pause, I told myself with a grin. Laughing loudly, I threw open the door.
“Pardon me!” I breezed in, swinging my crop like a baton, “terribly sorry and all, but what a lovely day for a ride!” I dumped myself into an armchair and whistled a Scottish reel. “Been waiting long?” I glanced up to ascertain my suitor’s reaction and almost spewed my breakfast.
This man certainly wasn’t nobility. As he turned from the fireplace, I saw a finely chiseled face with neatly trimmed sideburns and gray eyes that took notes in shorthand of my appearance. He obviously had some sort of standing with the government. I began to boil as he looked from me to my royal portrait above the mantel.
“I know most artists take license with their subjects,” he began by way of greeting. “But with your likeness,” an almost imperceptible smirk appeared and vanished, “someone was very liberal in his depiction.”
I stared at his clean shaven countenance and resisted the urge to smack it. My brilliant idea had turned on me, and I was now getting laughed at by some cocky Londinian official barely my senior. Deigning to respond, I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and began to repair my face.
“You looked as though you were expecting someone else?” He took a chair near mine.
“Perhaps.” I refused to make eye contact, and continued cleaning.
I saw him pull a cigarette case from his suit and gesture to me. “I don’t smoke” I said, “but if you must..”
“I’m fine,” he interrupted, and slid it back.
This man’s never read up on court etiquette. I finally looked him in the face. “Would you be so kind as to tell me your business here? My aunt gave me no information–”
“Because she hasn’t the foggiest idea either.” he answered calmly.
My mouth unhinged at his cheek. What kind of lunatic have they let in?
“I’m here from Scotland Yard, but that’s all she knows. Everything else is for your ears only.”
“Pardon my ignorance,” I gasped in anger, “but I don’t recall Angleburg law allowing our Head of State to send her little spies over here to snoop! We may be Her Majesty’s protectorate, but we don’t live under her thumb!”
“Perhaps, but when a sovereign and his queen go missing, we can’t help but ask some questions,” he returned evenly.
My heart shuddered to a stop, and I jerked back like he had slapped me. “How…dare you?” I choked. “My mother and father died, I’m sorry that put Great Britain to any inconvenience, but people don’t usually plan on automobile accidents during their vacation!”
“Perhaps,” he answered gently, “but a man’s enemies might.”
I froze, tears dropping onto my grubby shirt front. “What?” I whispered.
The man leaned in. “Did you see the bodies when they were flown back?”
I shook my head, my blood growing sluggish, cold. “They said they were too badly injured to…to…”
He shook his head. “Princess,” he spoke slowly, “A man and his wife don’t become unrecognizable because their roadster overturned.” He paused. “But if their bodies were switched…that would be another story.”
He pressed a hand to my shoulder as my vision began to blacken. “Are you game to hear the rest?”
Soo… I took a leap of faith and finally wrote a beginning to the novel my brain’s been cooking for the past several months. I was so nervous putting anything related to it on paper, like it would ruin my imaginings, but I’ve got to start somewhere! Let me know what y’all think, if this could be turned into the spy/crime/thriller/historical fiction thing I’ve been envisioning.
This is a very intriguing story beginning. This could very well be the makings of a historical fiction
Thanks Lynae!
I liked this Hannah. Am intrigued by it.
I want to add that my students happen to catch me reading this and saw the ending. They decided to make fun of the word “game” in that sentence. No one young says that. You stated your character was only slightly older than her so perhaps another word choice there. Unless this setting is a number of years ago. And of course, these are American teens who laughed at the use of that word.
Thanks David! Yes, I guess the word “game” in that context is certainly obsolete. (: I am setting this though in the 50s in Post WW2 Europe, so that usage of the word was very common, even among youth and young adults. I wish I had more words to set the exposition up a bit more clearly, but I hoped with the reference to a cigarette case and roadster readers could catch on this was a middle of the 20th century sort of deal.
This story grabbed my interest. I think you are off to a great start!
Thanks Annette!
I definitely think this story idea concept deserves further exploration. If it’s rough draft, you’ve done a great job. Some things to tweak for sure, but solid early draft to larger story!
Thanks Eliza June! I really really want to, maybe something like Arche Year here at the Company would get me fully committed to it. 1000 words was torturous considering all the world building and setting points I wanted to explore, but it is what it is. (:
Good job, Hannah! This definitely piqued my interest!
Thanks Vivienne! Glad it had the intended effect. (:
TEAM A
SUSAN BY ADELAIDE RIGGS
Near the local dirt road in a lush field, there was an abundant variety of grasses, wild flowers, and small creatures. All who dwelled here lived their lives with simplicity and gratitude. This included Susan, a beautiful flower whose color reminded everyone of a ripe summer lemon (but she was not quite so sour).
One morning, Susan was in the clearing enjoying a soft breeze when suddenly the air rapidly changed direction. Fragile as she was, Susan fell on her face, unable to get up. Panicking, she tried calling for help but the ground muffled her voice. Susan was helpless.
Just a minute later, a tiny, round old woman wearing a bright red cloak with black polka dots came into the clearing. It was Mrs. Dotty! She noticed the girl laying on the ground.
“Oh my!” exclaimed Mrs. Dotty as she hurried over to Susan. “What ever happened to you, dear?”
“I fell and ca-can’t move,” replied Susan quietly. “Could you he-help me?” Then she began to cry.
“Yes, yes of course! Be patient my dear. I’ll go as fast as I’m able to the house of Dr. Chippy.” And with that, Mrs. Dotty turned and quickly scuttled away, her red cloak fluttering behind her.
Susan was alone again, and very anxious. She wondered if she would never rise to see the blue sky again. Despite these thoughts, she tried to focus on her respiration. After what felt like months, she heard a pitter-patter, and out from the tall grass appeared Dr. Chippy with little Mrs. Dotty riding on his back.
“There she is, Doctor!” said Mrs. Dotty, pointing with one hand while the other five hung on tight. Needless to say, this wasn’t the first time he had been summoned, however this was the first time he had dealt with little old woman riding on his back.
“I see, I see! Please do not yell, you’re already near enough to my ear!” replied the doctor. Dr. Chippy was tall, dapper, orderly man, with a decent amount of good humor. They approached Susan.
“Hello?” asked the girl.
“Hello! So sorry about your condition. I’m Dr. Chippy, and we will help you get up.” These words made Susan feel better.
“Pardon, but where is the other one?” inquired Mrs. Dotty.
“Well, Perk should have been behind us. Excuse me for a second.” The doctor filled his cheeks and gave a couple sharp whistles.
In a moment, a boy appeared next to them. He looked rather lofty, and had a smirk on his round face. Mrs. Dotty jumped up and landed in a ball, her arms and legs tucked in.
“Perk!” said the doctor sternly as his son began to laugh. “This is a serious matter. I did not ask you to come along to play games!” Susan thought it was quite funny, but would have enjoyed it more if it weren’t for the condition she was in.
“Ok, let’s get to it,” said the motivated doctor. “Madam, you fetch some water from the brook and grab some witch hazel on your way back. Perk, you’ll need to climb onto my shoulders so we can lift this poor girl up.” Immediately Mrs. Dotty flew down the hill to complete her orders.
Just as Perk was about to climb upon his father’s back, Dr. Chippy noticed a break in Susan’s back. “Oh my, we will need some long grass to bind that wound. Got it, Perk?” “Sure, dad!”
Overhearing the doctor’s concern, Susan’s nerves were on the rise. “A-am I going to be OK?”
“I believe you’re going to be just fine,” consoled the doctor.
Perk made quick work of gathering some long grass and wasted no time in hopping up onto his father’s shoulders. They worked together to lift Susan up off the ground and stand her upright, Dr. Chippy encouraging Susan throughout the process.
Mrs. Dotty arrived not a moment too soon with the water and witch hazel, the latter of which was applied to Susan’s fracture.
In a jiffy Dr. Chippy had bound her wound with the green bandage and all was well.
“Oh, thank you all! I feel so much better, except it feels like my eye might be bruised,” said Susan.
“Well miss,” Dr. Chippy responded, “it does look pretty dark.”
“Black, I’d say,” added Mrs. Dotty.
Dr. Chippy applied the witch hazel to Susan’s bruise, but it did not seem to work.
“I’m sorry, but there is not much else I can do. What’s your name, miss?”
“Susan.”
“Susan,” Dr. Chippy looked her in the face. “Your black eye is beautiful.”
“Black eyed Susan.” said Mrs. Dotty….