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
The porch groaned beneath her as she shifted her weight in the beat up rocking chair, the old boards stiff with cold, answering like an old friend reluctant to stir. Winter dusk wrapped itself around the yard, soft and blue, settling over the bare branches and the thin crust of snow that glittered faintly under the porch light. Far-off, her neighbors chimney sent up a ribbon of smoke, curling into the quiet sky.
She cupped her hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth that still lingered, even though the evening coffee inside had slipped past hot and into merely tolerable. Waiting had become part of the season—like the garlands on the banister, the lists tucked into pockets, like the hush that settled over the world when the year prepared to end its chapter. Even the wind seemed to hold itself in check, whispering instead of howling, as though it didn’t want to disturb her.
A soft flurry drifted down, tiny flakes landing on her sleeve like small, cold promises. Christmas lights from the nearby houses blinked through the branches—red, green, and warm gold—scattering their glow across the quiet street. She didn’t know exactly when the moment she was waiting for would arrive, or what form it would take. But out here, just before Christmas, wrapped in winters gentle stillness and her old flannel jacket, it felt close, close enough to almost hear it in the settling snow and the slow, bright beat of hope.
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.