This week’s writing prompt is:
SPACE
What does this word mean to you? Having space away from people and whatever is weighing you down? Wide open spaces? Having enough legroom on a plane or at the cinema? Or do you think about space in terms of the expanding universe?
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 HEAT. Here’s the writing you shared:
The warmth of the sun as I lay on the beach
The passion of my lover when we’re ‘neath the sheets
The burn of hot liquid as it gets me going
And the comfort the fire provides that gets me glowing.
The heat from our bonfire used to toast us when we had our Bonfire Night celebrations on November the 5th. To remember the story; was about Guy Fawkes and his attempt to blow up Parliament hundreds of years ago. But we were more interested in seeing all the colourful fireworks, Catherine wheels, jumping Jacks, volcanoes, rockets and squibs. Then we would all go inside to eat jacket potatoes from the hot oven with lashings of butter and salt. Happy memories.
I don’t care for two seasons: summer and winter. I can’t tolerate the heat of summer. I sunburn very easily, and that is usually quite painful. One time, I got very bad sun poisoning. I start burning in about 15 minutes or less.
I get terrible headaches from the heat. Sometimes, the heat will cause me to be unable to breathe. It will happen suddenly. I will come outside, and it takes my breath away even if I wear my oxygen. I hate the heat.
How I love to holiday somewhere hot and sunny, sitting by the pool , dipping in and out of the cool refreshing water.
Or at home, sunbathing in the garden with a good book and a cool refreshing drink.
But having to work and commute in hot weather isn’t my cup of tea at all.
Roll back to the summer of ‘76.
I was working in the city, in a stifling building with no air conditioning, travelling there and back on a just as stifling and crowded tube.
I was married on one of the hottest days of the year. I had always wanted a summer wedding, but couldn’t have envisaged it being quite so hot!
I’ve photos taken in the garden before setting off to church, and the grass was brown.
As well as getting married, I moved away to Cambridgeshire, working with the same company; this time in a new, air conditioned building, and only a fifteen minute commute in the car.
What a refreshing relief it was…
A previous prompt was TRANSPORT. Hugh W. Roberts wrote a great piece of flash fiction for it:
Time To Leave, Time To Arrive
“Good afternoon, transport helpline; how may I be of assistance?”
“Is that the transport helpline?”
“It is, yes. How may I be of assistance?”
“I’d like to book some transport, please.”
“For you, or is the transport for somebody else?”
“It’s for me.”
“Have you used us before?”
“Yes.”
“For security purposes, could you provide your password’s first and fourth letters?”
“W and T.”
“And your date, time and place of birth.”
“January fourteenth, Twenty-One-O-Five, St Mark’s Hospital, Cardiff, Wales.”
“Thank you. You are a little young to leave now, although you can book the transport up to twenty years in advance. Are you sure you want to go ahead and book now?”
“Yes.”
“And when would you like your transport to arrive?”
“Within the next hour, please.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Let me check if your driver is available. Some chillout music will play to keep you relaxed while we check your driver’s availability. Please hold the line.”
(Several minutes later)
“Good news, your driver is available and will be with you at ten past eight. Please ensure you have the correct payment. We no longer accept American Express.”
“Thank you.”
(Ten past eight.)
“Your driver has arrived. Enjoy your trip, Mr Evans. Thank you for visiting. We hope you enjoyed your stay.”
“Hello, Mr Evans, I’m Mary, your driver. You probably won’t remember me, but I transported you into this world. Mine will have been the first face you saw and the first hands to touch you.”
“Hello, Mary. Pleased to meet you again.”
“My goodness, did you scream when I delivered you into this world. You screamed the hospital down. Already had enough of this place, yes?”
“Yes, they’re destroying this planet. It’s time to move on. Please transport me to my next destination. I hope your hands are warm this time.”
***
Esther Chilton 
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