Welcome to day two of the Winter Writing Challenge! Are you ready to get those creative juices flowing? I loved reading all your submissions yesterday. Let’s see what you come up with today!
Here’s your next prompt!
Write a vignette about waiting outside on the front porch.
Think you’re up for the challenge? We can’t wait to see what sort of vignette you guys come up with. Remember, it’s time to work together to unlock some of those awesome prizes, so post your vignette in the comments!
But wait…what’s a vignette and how do I write one?
A vignette is a brief evocative description, account, or episode. It doesn’t have any plot, backstory, or any elements that can move the story forward. For more on how to write a vignette, click here!
(Keep in mind, they should be less than 500 words!)
Before you start writing, we have some important rules for you to follow.
Writing Rules
1. Please keep the content of the poems and vignettes 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. Have fun!
Remember to scroll all the way to the bottom of the page and post your story as an “answer” to this question. 🙂
You guys posted over 130 times yesterday, via this Q&A Board, Facebook, and Instagram! That’s incredible, and we’re well on our way for big prizes.
Remember, if at least 50 people post every day, we’ll all get one free month of Premium Membership to The Company. Premium Members get access to all of The Company’s live coaching groups, where you can get real answers from real professionals for all of your writing and publishing questions. Keep posting, and let’s get this!
Happy Writing!
Alli Prince
I know he’s going to make it.
The cold seeps into my bones like a cell-invading virus. As soon as my rear connects with the hard, unforgiving concrete front porch steps, the frigid blocks set off a wave of whole-body tremors. Pulling my knit toboggan down over my brow, this is the lowest I’m willing to take it. I’m freezing but need to maintain visibility to spot his car as soon as it pops over the knoll toward the trailer house.
Any minute now he’ll be here.
My teeth chatter no matter how much my mind wills it to stop. I stand and start marching in place trying to generate heat with movement.
Company! March! One, two, three, four.
My arms, straight and erect, move back and forth as my knees almost touch my chest in sequential motion. I’d make a fine soldier, even though I’m a girl. I twirl around on the step to do an about-face. The arc is too wide, and I almost fall into the shark-infested sea (aka, the bushes), but a quick grab of the porch banister saves me from impending doom.
Suddenly, I end my time at the barracks, and now I face the plank as a wily pirate caught stealing the captain’s booty.
My arms wrap around my abdomen as I fall into a fit of laughter. Captain’s booty! Hahahahaha!
The front door swings open. Just my stupid sister. “What are you doing out here?” She asks, her perfect bangs feathering to each side. It looks dumb.
“Noneyabusiness.” I respond. She’s always sticking her Love’s Baby Soft-powered nose into my business.
Her blue eyes survey me as she pulls a string of gum from her mouth and wraps it around her index finger. “Whatever, loser. Mama told me to tell you to come inside.”
“You can tell Mama that he’s going to be here any minute.”
A look of pity crosses my sister’s face. I wanted to slap her. “Don’t get your hopes up, kid.”
I sit back down on the concrete steps, elbows on legs and hands cradling my jaw. The front door gently clicks as it closes. The sun is starting to nestle behind the mountains. In the last vestiges of daylight, I make use of the time and blow ‘smoke signals’ from my mouth. They say:
Don’t forget about me.
When there’s nothing left in the inky black sky but a spattering of unenthusiastic stars, sadness fills my heart. By the time my fingers and toes are frozen I can barely feel them, the front door opens again.
A warm hand cups my shoulder. “He’s not coming, honey.” My mother says.
“He is. I know he is.” I protest. Even to my young ears, I can hear doubt lacing my voice.
“Come on inside. We’ll try calling him again.”
Before I follow her into the warm trailer that Mom has made our home, I take one more peek down the lane. It’s dark. No headlights.
Daddy didn’t show up again.
Late, but still wanted to write something, so I’m posting it as a comment, if that’s ok. (it’s also not my best work)
The red gingham pattern of her dress stood out starkly against the white siding of her picturesque childhood home. From my view, her life was pretty perfect. She had a loving family, friends that were with her through thick and thin, and everything a girl could want.
And as I stood here, in the street, my breath puffing out into great white clouds in the cold, watching her wait for me on the porch, I realized something.
I couldn’t stand here forever, watching her wait for me here on the porch. It was now I had to make the decision.