Writing Prompt!

Prompt from Grace: Write about a character who, recently impoverished, comes into unexpected fortune. Does it go well or badly for the character?

Write for 10 minutes. Post your piece to comments.

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Posted on October 6, 2016, in Writing Prompt. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Gabriel Gonzalez

    My life has no purpose,

    he thought. It was early spring; the air was mild and youthfully vibrant, and yet his world was overwhelmingly gray. They all have direction . . . they all have purpose, he glanced at the pedestrians pacing by him along the sidewalks. He knew what that was like – to be intent, to know what you want – what you need to do. Yet it was a memory that had become as distant as any could be. It had become so faint – so foreign – that he would not be able to will it from the recesses of his mind even if he could muster the desire.
    His measured gait stood out from the pacing pedestrian mosaic of the city streets. The weight of his existence bore down upon him and leadened his step. But it was not always so.
    The pressures of expected certainty had ruminated and snowballed in his mind. He was only in the fringes of adulthood, he thought, growing ever more hopeless at the thought of how much worse it could become – or so he thought and thought and thought.
    But as exponentially as these feelings grew, even more suddenly would they come to a screeching halt – at the street junction, of all places.
    The pedestrian crossing signal flickered on and people crossed the street in the dozens. He was all but indiscernible amidst this pacing blur, almost as unremarkable as he felt. But this exercise in insignificance came to a halt with a tap on the shoulder.
    “You dropped your pencil,” a girl said, smiling and promptly walking on after handing it over.
    Timid, his shifting eyes had barely made out her smile or any other details, but he could feel it. The sensation of the pencil in his hand grew sharper.

    And all at once, he realized . . .

    He had regularly taken this route. I never noticed the flowers here, he thought, looking at the multicolored array of tulips and lilies and orchids that lined the sidewalk.
    Pencil in hand, he knew his purpose was his own and only for him to create.

    Yes, I took the prompt metaphorically; it was intentional. This is not autobiographical in any sense lol.

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