Here is where I stash all of my prompts/word wars and miscellaneous dabbles! Please remember that none of this is serious writing. ;)
1
The clock is made of smooth wood, mahogany in colour and shined to a soft sheen. It is old – it’s stood in my Grandmother’s kitchen for years. Perhaps more than I’ve been alive. The clock is covered with a rounded glass cover, numbers etched clearly underneath. They are roman numerals and dark black, sitting against a cream setting. The hands are made of iron and dark as well, beautifully shaped in a vaguely gothic design. The clock itself sits against the wall, towards the centre, and the wallpaper underneath is patterned with green-yellow and dark brown. The clock is a bit slow, but still usable.
4 -- I forgot the Stepmother's name, and one of her daughter's. Do they even have a surname? Heh. Cinderalla crack, though.
The prince had come to their door, arriving in a tall carriage and accompanied by his loyal footmen. At the knock at the door, both of Cinderella’s sisters leapt up and bustled out to greet the prince, their mother tagging close behind.
“Oh! He’s here! I can’t believe this, Drusilla! I’m sure he’ll pi—“
“No, no, it’s surely me. I am much prettier than you Annabelle. And how would you know? You’re an ugly thin—“
“Girls! Quiet! We must be gracious when the prince enters.”
Lady Bellefort opened the door with a flourish, clapping her gloved hands together softly. “Welcome to our humble home,” she said cheerfully. “Please, come in.” The lady stepped back and jostled her two daughters as well, smiling tightly when they refused to move.
“Drusilla, Annabelle… why don’t you escort the prince in? I must go talk to the maid.” Lady Bellefort bustled forwards and out of the cramped hallway, waving a hand in goodbye as she turned a corner and headed for the stairs. Up in her attic room Cinderella would be sitting, likely skimping on her chores again, and the lady was determined to keep her from coming down. It was unfortunate that the girl was storybook perfect with blue eyes and golden hair.
Downstairs the two daughters were giggling around the prince, peppering him with questions and giving him fond looks. The prince looked uncomfortable but replied kindly, resigning himself to their attentions.
“Yes, my lady, you guessed my intentions right. However… I am not certain the girl I seek for is in this house.” Both Drusilla and Annabelle looked crushed by the statement, though the same thought was running through their minds. He must be acting coy!
5
Pro patria mori dixit sapientem.
Listen – can you hear the old story?
Rising chants, whooping calls,
It is the onward march; the march of Gauls.
Rome! Attollere homines, respondere vocaverit!
March your legions and earn your merit!
She sings of glory: A litore ovantis!
Now is the time to strike!
Battle drums do echo, resonare!
Barbarian cries; oh, how they sing, cantare!
7
Sit in a circle and tell the most ghastly ghost stories you know. Don’t hold back – there are nightmares depending on it.
Read a book, or two, or three. Go make a tent in your library and sit down with a candle, see how fast you can read before it goes out.
Stoke the fire and make a pan of bread. Or maybe two pans. When you’re done go leave it on your front porch. I guarantee it will be gone by the morrow.
Out of candles? Play footsies with your loved one.
Or, alternatively, have some hot, mad sex to pass the time. Multiple partners allowed.
Draw something on the first thing you see. Or person…
Dress up in all black and go out for a night of breaking and entering. Who knows? You might find something valuable! (Or get thrown in jail!)
Why sit around when you can exercise? Run a lap around your house; lift some weights (heavy tomes?); juggle your three dogs!
Play some Blind Man's Bluff. And since it's dark out, no blindfolds required!
Ever wonder where that trapdoor really leads? Now is a good day to find out.
Sit down, lotus position, rest your hands on your knees and spend the next six hours breathing in and out slowly, meditating on your sins and what a bad boy/girl you've been.
Spend the last few hours of remaining daylight to reenact the worst battle strategies that ever happened in history. Make those historians proud.
