I have a lot of really rough writing prompt work that I will probably post to this blog just to either rewrite it, or maybe even hear some sort of feedback from others because I know that nothing I do is anywhere near perfect and most if it probably is not worth even reading. I will include one of my previous writing prompts below as a starter, and hopefully I can make a habit of posting stuff here with some sort of regularity.
One more. That is
what you always say. Just one more it will be okay. Ya, I have
probably said that way too many times, none worse than on a St.
Patricks day.
It started as soon work ended. I will just have a couple beers before I go out. A
couple turns into a few, into a group, into five-spot. That
should have been enough, but of course it was not.
Neither was the
pitcher of beer that Chris had ready for me when I arrived. Or the
four that followed that one. Then came the shots, the Jameson, and
the glittery paper green hat I took from some girl named Lauren. I
hazily remember my bartender asking me if I was ordering another
drink, I said no, or something similar, and he looked relieved.
The rest of the
story, is not told from my perspective, because I do not have one. My ride for the night arrived at 2am
to find me slung over a chair. Luckily for her, one of my other friends was
there to help shove my body into the truck. Home was another story. Waking my roommate to help drag me up the driveway,
and deposit me into the bed, I am sure she was glad to be rid of me.
You do not want to
know the details I awoke to the next morning, but I can just say I
did not eat Vietnamese for quite a while after that.
