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!
Team 1 Reepicheep
Booker T. Werm, a bespectacled caterpillar with gold and black stripes, inched his way through walnut bookshelves, tidying up dust mites and polishing spines until they gleamed. He rather prided himself on his role as guardian of Sunset City’s local library. To the average eye, it was relatively modern, not nearly as charming or remarkable as the ones found in English villages or little coffee houses.
But Booker didn’t have average eyes.
Whenever patrons walked into this ordinary, public facility, little sparks of light appeared above their heads. These sparks were invisible to everyone except for him—just as he was invisible to most visitors—and they aided him well in his tasks. Some patrons arrived with a certain book in mind and would scour the shelves until they pulled their prize free. Others carefully analyzed titles and blurbs in hopes of discovering their next read. In either case, he would read the patterns of sparkles haloing their craniums to predict precisely what they were looking for and nudge a corresponding book far enough off the shelf so that it would catch their eye.
Sometimes he was lucky enough to watch a patron grab his recommendation, sit down in one of the stained orange chairs, and flip to the first page. That was when the sparks swirled together, creating a portal that opened the imagination. Lost in the pages of these tomes, his patrons experienced far-off worlds, daring adventures, and thrilling victories. That gentleman? A secret agent dangling off the precipice of a skyscraper. That businesswoman? A sleuth uncovering a heinous crime and bringing a criminal to justice. That teenage boy with a bruised lip? A captain of a sleek starship battling imperial troopers seeking galactic domination.
In this library, there was a book for each and every reader.
“Excuse me?”
Booker blinked his wide, bulbous eyes and turned to see a pair of bright blue ones peering at him between two book covers. These eyes belonged to a girl he estimated to be twelve years old.
“Can you help me?” she asked.
Once he recovered from his surprise that she could see him, he bowed. “Booker T. Werm at your service, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
“Do you see those portals?” she asked. “Above people’s heads?”
He blinked again. “Indeed. Aren’t they marvelous?”
“I’m trying to get mine to open,” the girl said, “but nothing’s working.”
“Truly?” Booker observed the sparks fly in dizzying patterns above her head. With how quickly they flitted and shifted colors, it was difficult to tell the nuances, but he picked out a desire for a lighthearted book that featured a female protagonist, a polar bear companion, and a video game-inspired world. A tricky find, but he was up for the challenge. “I will gather some recommendations for you. Follow me.”
Although Booker had many legs, he could not carry multiple books without being squished, so the girl—Lydia—collected his recommendations into her pink backpack as he inched from shelf to shelf. Twenty titles later, she sat down at a table and began looking through them. He perched on top of an old apple she had found at the bottom of her backpack and watched her eyebrows knit together.
Each book had elements of what she wanted. But alas, it simply seemed that her dream book didn’t exist.
Booker thought long and hard, discouraged that he hadn’t found what she wanted. “I have one more suggestion,” he said. “Can you open your backpack?”
Once Lydia did so, he inched inside and, to his delight, spotted what he was looking for—a bright yellow composition book. He pushed it onto the table and nudged it open to an empty page.
Lydia frowned. “There’s nothing there.”
“Not yet.” He nudged a dinged pencil into her hand. “I truly believe there’s a book for every reader. But some have yet to be written.”
She bit her lip. “I’ve never written a story before.”
“Start with the first word,” Booker said. “And then the next.”
“But what if it doesn’t turn out the way I want?”
“A risk, perhaps,” Booker replied. “But what if it never gets written? Wouldn’t that be worse?”
Lydia considered. She took a deep breath. Then put the pencil to the paper. She wrote one letter. Then a word. A sentence. A paragraph.
Needless to say, this wasn’t the first time Booker had witnessed a portal come to life with all its vibrant colors and characters.
But it was the first time he’d ever witnessed one come straight from the writer’s hand.
Funny, as soon as I read the name I thought “Hey, Booker T Werm from Barney the Dinosaur!” (:
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….