Writing Prompt

The prompt below includes a technical parameter, a style or character parameter, and a word or phrase for inspiration.
Technical Parameter: POV – First Person
Style of Character Parameter: Humor
Word or Phrase for Inspiration: Cooking

Set your timer for 10 minutes. Post your piece to comments!


Posted on September 19, 2013, in Writing Prompt. Bookmark the permalink. 10 Comments.

  1. The sauce’s succulent smell wafts up in swirling patterns of flavorful fog, entering my nasal passages slowly, passing over each sensor, letting my brain react to a pleasent, mouth-watering smell. The kitchen radio blasts classic rock in the background, and I hum quietly to myself as I stir Aunt Mae’s soup is the pot on the stove.
    I go back and forth between sauce and soup, feeling the sweat bead against my brow from the greasy heat resting on my skin. “Genevieve, child, what on earth on you doing, girl?” Mama calls from the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, an amused grin on her wrinkled mouth.
    I blink, returning from my reverie as I realize that not only was I smelling the food, but tasting it as well. And, boy is it astounding. I quickly drop the spoon from my mouth, my dark-toned cheeks burning red. “Nothing–nothing,” I say, beginning my stirring pattern once more.
    Mama lets out a deep chuckle as she shakes her, walking lamely over to me. Her bum knee always made things difficult on her, but the woman had enough backbone to take down a two-ton bulldozer.

    This was all I could manage in ten minutes. I’m not sure it meets the concepts, but I like it.

  2. Wow Cheyenne That Is Incredible !!!!

  3. It’s all I could do in 10 minutes, and it’s just the beginning of a story. But thanks to this prompt, I had an idea for a whole story! Once I write it, maybe I’ll share some more at a meeting. But for now, here’s what I have so far:

    I sat there in utter shock. I couldn’t believe it. I, Maria Luisa Santiago de la Rosa, would be cooking a four course meal: alone. My baby brother Mario had just been rushed to the hospital after falling on his head. And of course, this had to happen the day of the fancy dinner my mom was hosting for all of the people at her job.

    “I’m only ten!” I told my mom. “How am I supposed to cook a four course meal BY MYSELF?”

    “Maria Luisa,” my mom said to me sternly. It’s never good news when she calls me by more than one of my names. “You’ve always wanted me to treat you like a big girl. Now it’s time for you to act like one.”

    Then, like magic, my mom disappeared out the door. And I was left in a pickle. A big, icky, booger green pickle. Like all the other times I found myself in trouble, I called my best friend, Samantha.

    “Hey Sam,” I said sort of glumly into the phone.

    “Hey Maria! What’s wrong?” Sam asked. “You don’t sound too good.”

    “I’m not good!” I exclaimed. “Baby Mario was just taken to the hospital! He fell on his head!”

    Before I had the chance to tell her the worst part, Sam interrupted me.

    “Oh no!” she said. “That’s terrible! We should draw him pictures to hang up in his room when he gets home.”

    “I don’t have time for that!” I cried. “You didn’t let me tell you the worst part! My mom is hosting this fancy dinner tonight, for all of the people at her job, and now she’s left me to cook the meal by myself!”

    “By yourself?” Sam couldn’t believe it. “Maria, you can’t do this alone. I’ll be over in a few minutes. Not that I have any idea how to cook, but we’ll find a way to do this together.”

  4. Eh, I’m not sure about the humor part, but here’s what I got (tell me if it makes enough sense without explaining all of it);

    The world around me shifts yet again. I hear his voice calling my name, “Tabitha, where are you?” I look around me, taking in my surroundings. I am in a kitchen… His kitchen…

    I hear footsteps and spin around, “Hello Timothy.”

    He smiles at me, “You ready for this?”

    “Ready for what?” I asked.

    “The grand New-York style cook off. Right here in my very own kitchen.”

    The memories start flooding back, of him, of me, of us. I shake my head, “Tim I-” He cuts me off, “Tabitha, I don’t want to hear any complaining, I know I’ll make the bread this time.”

    My head is spinning, I’ve made the connection, I now know where I am. 2015, six years ago, Tim and I were making a huge Italian meal for some buddies of his. We were messing around and left the oven on while we were cooking the lasagna. It later resulted in his apartment room burnt to a crisp.

    “Yeah, you better.” I tease him. “Oh, Tim, I’m going to use the bathroom while you start on the dough.”

    “Sure thing!” He called.

    I walk down the hall, knowing I can’t change the past, and not wanting to see the fire again. I shinny brass handle catches my eye, it’s attached to a door I never noticed in Tim’s house before. I grab the handle and pull the door open, immediately swirls of color surround me. I am pulled in once again.

  5. This a really nice story:)

  6. Tonight was suppose the night I would finally experience my first kiss, where I would finally have a girlfriend. I planned out the night perfectly, she would come over to my house and I would cook her dinner, then we would watch a movie and I would lean back, put my arm around her shoulder and whisper her name in her ear. Then she’ll slowly look toward me and I would kiss her lightly on the lips. It was suppose to be perfect, but instead my night was a complete disaster and I ended up making a fool of myself.

    Before she came over, I was suppose to cook dinner. I spent all week looking up recipes of delicious meals that I could cook for her. I ended up deciding to make us lobster tail with some vegetables and a little butter. This was the beginning of my nightmare because after I bought the lobster, which was still alive, it snatched on to my lip and as you can imagine it was extremely painful to remove; still, I was determined to make this night perfect. By the time I was done cooking, it was around 7:00 o’clock and she was suppose to be here at 7:30. I was beginning to get nervous, what if she didn’t show up? Or my food tasted bad? I forced those thoughts out of my mind and just waited patiently for her arrival.

    Soon enough she arrived. I answered the door very eagerly and before me, there she stood. She had on a plain white T-shirt and some ordinary jeans but to me she looked stunning.
    “Hi,” she said with a condescending tone.
    “Hey,” I replied with slightly to much eagerness. “Want to come inside?
    For a second she looked right at me, she looked extremely shocked.
    “Why would I go inside, I’m only here to pick up your sister to go to the movies.”
    My heart dropped and I began to tear a bit. “But I thought you came to see me.”
    She laughed. “Why would I want to see you.”
    For a second I thought she was joking. “You sent me a text saying you were going to come.”
    “Oh, sorry, that was for your sister, not you.”

    • Christian, I want to scream at that girl character you came up with. I love how you made the boy sensitive and nervous, and it was quite a spin with the snippy girl. Well done! 🙂

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