This is the first draft of a short story I began while at Johns Hopkins. The challenge/assignment was to write something in a genre outside
“Who’s asking?” The man posing that question was, as you can imagine, a shifty-looking good-for-nothing. He had those nervous eyes, dark and partially hidden
You kneel on the edge of the mat. Your lungs are on fire, screaming for oxygen after another vicious scramble that resulted in no points.
“Ain’t nothing there.” James mumbled the mantra he’d used for years. The idea was to think all of the hazards away. James opened his eyes,
It’s a simple question really. What did you do today? The idea behind it, whether the concern or request for such information is genuine or
Well, like many others, this story got started from a prompt. In this case, each writer in class had to come up with an opening