I hope you’ve all recovered from your New Year celebrations. If you’re looking to get back into the writing groove, here are a few prompts for you:
- A fresh start
- The dark place
- Monsters
I’d love to see your writing on any of these themes. Anything goes!
Now, last week, your theme was New Year. Here are your fantastic interpretations on this theme:
The week that stands for nothing
Christmas Day to New Year
The one you get closest
To losing everything
So much proximity
Too much time to think
Roll on … back to work next week.
The new year comes in with a cheer,
Until we realise that the sheer,
Weight we must lose,
No more chocolate, cakes, or booze,
As exercise and weight loss are clear.
The new year comes in with a cheer,
Until we realise that the sheer,
Weight we must lose,
To make our fitness improve,
For a happier, healthier, new year.
And of course, here’s Rajiv Chopra with his continuation of the Mary Jane Series:
“The New Year has gone by, my sweet,” said Harley, poking her nose out from under the covers. The beautiful interlude had passed them by, and they had spent that wonderful day under the covers, engaged in activities that we shall not describe here.
“Yes,” replied Mary Jane. “It’s gone. Yet, the year is young. We need to make a resolution for the year.”
A pause, and then Harley flung the covers off, stretching her body, and curling her red painted toe nails. Her white body hid the muscles that rippled beneath the pale skin. She was strong, as was Mary Jane, yet without losing the essential femininity that defined the essential sensuality of a woman.
“What sort of resolution?” she asked. “Resolutions are for farts and old fogeys.”
“Not a typical New Year resolution,” said Mary. “Let’s resolve to be the meanest, baddest, wickedest, most feared and desired duo in the history of…of…of…unorganized crime. We shall be the sexiest and baddest couple in history. How’s that?”
“Sounds perfect,” said Harley.
“Now, what shall we do?” mused Mary Jane. “What shall we do?” She tapped the table top with her fingers, her eyes acquiring the look of someone lost in a maze of wicked, vengeful, relaxing thoughts. “What shall we do?”
Silence followed, and the sun streamed through the lace curtains, casting abstract shadows on their alabaster bodies. They looked like twins. White, sleek bodies, red-painted nails, red pouting lips. They differed in the colour of their hair. The intelligent, mischievous, slightly demented look in their eyes was identical. They were indeed made – born – for each other, waifs from the bowels of Hell.
“I know!” smiled Harley. “Let’s get the Joker and Spidey for all the trouble they have caused us. And, let’s get that sneaky devil, Sam, as well.”
“Frodo, we spare,” said Mary Jane. “He tried to save us, and he is so devoted.”
“What shall we do with them when we find them?” asked Harley.
“Oh, I don’t know, and I don’t care. Our wicked little minds will think up something most delightful, don’t you think?”
“Ohhhh yes…. What a way to start off the New Year,” smiled Harley. “What difference that the New Year has gone. We are the wickedest, sexiest, baddest, most desirable little crime duo in the history of crime.. We are the Crazies….. Let’s do it!”
Some distance away, in a dungeon smelling of bats, sat four men, hands tied behind their backs.
“Pah,” said The Spider. “It’s time for us to escape, and plot our revenge.”
The Joker grinned grimly. His red mouth made a ghastly, smiling gash across his white, alabaster face.
The eyes of the two had a crazed look in them. Looking at the two of them, the Hobbits were hopeful, and yet alarmed.
Wheels were turning, and events were slowly coming to a boil.
The year was young, and was about to witness events that had not been seen in a long, long time.
***
Esther Chilton 
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