This week’s writing prompt is:
Phobia
What does that word mean to you? My phobia is spiders. I try and rationalise it to myself. They’re small and here, in the UK, they’re not poisonous so they can’t harm me. But it doesn’t help! You could write about a real phobia, or you could make one up for a gripping story or poem.
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 COLOURS. Here’s the work you shared:
I woke up and the sun’s bright yellow
Happy to start the day
I wore my blue jeans, more like marines
Went to market, bought my greens and whey
Swam in a pool with blissful white foam
Then met my friend for coffee
More like marines, I wore my blue jeans
Had red tea then went for shopping spree
Indigo and violet ice-cream
And she peels her orange fruit
I wore my blue jeans, more like marines
Then we went for our afternoon scoot*
To read more of her work on colours, click here
Nicola Daly:
My eldest daughter was born with flaming red hair – no surprise as her dad was a redhead (when he had some) and I have lots of red-haired Irish/Scottish genes. I was horrified, though, when I started opening all the ‘new baby’ gifts – to find everything was PINK!
‘Thank you,’ I murmured to each and every person, whilst thinking ‘Oh, no, that’s going to clash HORRIBLY with her hair.’
Luckily, not only do I have a superstar daughter, but throughout her babyhood and toddlerdom she looked so good in pink! And as a little girl, guess what her favourite colour was? You’ve got it – pink! When we went to the wildlife park, she liked the flamingos best because they were … PINK!
When I was expecting baby no 2, I didn’t know whether I was having a girl or a boy. So after she was born and they whisked her off, I waited for the ‘It’s a girl!’ or ‘It’s a boy!’ shout. Instead, the nurse gleefully announced to everyone, ‘It’s another redhead!’ When I could make myself heard over the clamour to ask, she did then check and tell me I had another girl who looked identical to her sister.
And, yes, all the presents were pink too. So not only did this baby have pink presents, but she also had all her sister’s pink hand-me-downs! Her favourite colour was – YELLOW! She also loved anything sparkly – I remember buying her a pair of sparkly shoes for her birthday and her telling me they weren’t sparkly enough because there weren’t any sparkles on the soles …. And, yes, I confess to sitting up ’til silly-o’clock trying to get glitter to stick to the soles so she could be the sparkliest girl at her party …. (the things we do)
Both girls are now teenagers. They HATE having flaming red hair – the colour hasn’t changed from the day they were born. (Although I think they’re starting to secretly like it but they don’t tell me). They HATE pink. And they LOVE – black. And absolutely NO sparkles! In fact, the only thing close to ‘sparkly’, are the rather delightful streaks of silver running through my hair…
I can’t remember having a favorite color that everything HAD to be, but I do remember the colors I don’t like or look good in. Yellow does not go with me and my skin. Nor does white. Besides, if I wear white, it will be stained on accident the first time I wear it! Brown is a no go unless its on the bottom. So brown pants are ok if paired with atop that has the color IN the design. I don’t have much of that in any case. I tend to wear purple, orange, hot pink, and the combo of black/red, has been a long-time favorite. When I’m tanned, orange looks the best to my skin. We even bought a house-ourvery first real house together-that had a screaming yellow kitchen. We changed it immediately to a more subdued almond/white trim motif. I love aqua of course! The sea!
I have liked different colors in different stages of my life. I preferred dark colors, mainly black, during my childhood and early adulthood. My bedroom walls were even black at one point. Navy blue was another of my favorite colors. I made all the curtains in my bedroom out of navy blue, and my bedspread was also navy blue and black. As I think back on it, it was dark and gloomy, but that is where my mind was.
One day, my daughter decided to get me a bedroom sheet set and comforter for my birthday. We went to the store to pick it out, and I headed to the dark colors. She put her foot down and said if she was going to pay for it, the colors needed to be something in a lighter color tone.
At first, I told her to never mind, as I wasn’t interested, but as I perused the sheet sets and matching comforters, I found one I liked in pastel green, yellow, and pink. I stared at it for a bit and finally realized that it was bringing my dark mood up and that it was a great mood lifter. I even found yellow curtains to go with it. I thanked her for making me choose something so much brighter.
Red, orange or pink lips? The choice was hard. Which one?
And then there were the shoes. Purple, brown, gold, light blue, white, or plain old dull grey? No contest! The purple ones always seem the most comfortable to wear and walk in.
And what about the dress? Multicoloured? Or how about the new bright green one with yellow flowers on it? After all, it’s new and still has the price tag attached. It’s about time it got shown off for the first time. There’s plenty of eyes to see it.
As for the nails, the gold nail varnish looks fantastic and smells like pear drops, a favourite sweet that always brings happy memories of Grandma.
It’s time for me to look in the mirror. I can’t help but feel a surge of confidence and excitement as I take in my reflection. How gorgeous I look in all these colours, don’t you think so?
Is that somebody coming into the house and walking up the stairs? Yes! My heart skips a beat. Oh, no! Panic, panic, what shall I do? My mind races, trying to devise a plan, but fear freezes me.
It’s too late. My father, a man whose presence always brought a mix of fear and anticipation, is already in the room. I don’t even have to turn around to find out he’s there, as the stench of alcohol, tobacco, and hints of my schoolteacher, Mrs. Freeman’s perfume, hit my nostrils.
My whole day went black. The only good thing was that I could watch the bruises change various colours as they faded.
***
Esther Chilton 
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