This week’s writing prompt is:
COLOURS
When I was at school my favourite colour was blue, then I went through a pink phase and everything I wore was bright pink from my eyeshadow to my pink stilettos! Thankfully for everyone around me it didn’t last long. My daughter didn’t have a favourite colour when she was young – she just loved rainbows and all the different colours coming together. Do different colours signify different things to you?
You don’t have to share your work, but I always enjoy seeing what you come up with if the prompt gives you inspiration. Your last prompt was CITIES. Here’s the work you shared:
As we approached the city’s limits, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the road. I saw the car in front of me suddenly swerve. He pulled over to the side of the road and the chap got out and inspected his tires.
“Are you alright, sir,” I called to him without getting out of my car.
“It looks like a puncture in my tire. It is flat.”
“Do you have road service? I am not very good at changing tires, and I have my girlfriend with me, and we are going out for dinner.” I glanced at Cindy, who was applying lip gloss without a care.
“My nails are chipped,” she told me. I need to get to the nail salon as soon as possible. Do we have to help this guy?” Cindy wasn’t interested in helping someone else. She was quite selfish most of the time.
The chap stood up after checking his trunk for a jack to change his tire. “I will have to call my road service. I don’t have a jack, and the spare tire is flat. Thanks for stopping; you can go ahead and leave.”
“Alright, sir. I will leave you to wait for your car service. I have to get going, as we planned on getting dinner somewhere, and I have been looking forward to pork chops for dinner. I have to get Cindy to the nail salon first, though. Good luck with your tire.”
One of my favorite cites is San Antonio.
When I was stationed, the places we’d go
The friends I made
The bars we partied in
School was hard, but not too much
Camping at Canyon Lake, rock climbing and such!
Life and Death in the City
From the highest building, the city landscape held him in its thrall. His fist clenched, while his other arm stretched out, his eyes roamed from side to side, taking in the buildings, green spaces, transport, and every aspect of the city he adored. But the people? They were a different story.
From the moment he stepped foot in the city, a profound bond was formed. Every street, corner, and building became a part of him, intertwining with his very essence. For three glorious years, he thrived as a quintessential city man, his love for the city growing deeper with each passing day. But when he lost his job, a seismic shift occurred in his world. The concept of change was foreign to him, but the city, his beloved, seemed to be craving it, or so he thought.
As he gazed at the bustling, unfriendly crowds flowing into the city hall below, where he once worked, he realised that the city desperately needed a nucleus of change.
Eighteen minutes later, he found himself with his back turned only a few steps away from the imposing doors of city hall. He stood there, gazing up at the place he had been earlier, his mind a tempest of thoughts, each one questioning why he had even considered such a drastic step as jumping. The struggle within him was not just a storm, but a hurricane, his heart and mind locked in a fierce battle.
People tutted and gave him dirty looks as he blocked their path. The smell of their body odour hit his nostrils, making him feel sick.
‘Always in a rush! Why are these unclean city people always in a rush?’ he asked himself.
“Get out of the f-ing way,” somebody shouted at him as they pushed by him. “Idiot!”
“Idiot? Me?” he bellowed, his voice brimming with a potent blend of defiance and uncertainty. ‘Not me.’ he assured himself. ‘For I’m the one who can spark the change this city so desperately craves. It doesn’t deserve people like you.’
Minutes later, inside city hall, the first change to the city occurred.
“I’VE COME HERE TO SAVE YOU!” he screamed. Moments later, he pushed the trigger he’d held in his clenched hand, something he’d planned meticulously until he’d found himself looking down from the top of that building. As the almighty bang of the bombs went off, a sound reverberated through the halls, symbolising the start of a new era for the city. Without his action, it would never have survived.
***
Esther Chilton 
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