This Week: Sentence Prompts Call it what you will, incentives are what get people to work harder. – Nikita Khrushchev Cultivate the habit of early rising. It is unwise to keep the head long on a level with the feet. – Henry David Thoreau My Story based on the prompts for…
Let Go In sickness and in health Till death do us ‘part We promised to stand by each other Till someone stole my heart
Phrase Prompt: What goes around, comes around He strained against the pressure, struggling to escape and suddenly he broke free. Just like that he was free! He couldn’t believe it was happening! Finally! He aimed for the horizon, soaring towards it, gaining speed as he shot forward. He was the…
Word Prompt: Serendipity He was one of the greatest masters ever known. His paintings were works of art coveted by many and afforded by very few. Every perfect creation of his managed to stun. Every one, except his only child who showed no interest in following her father’s footsteps. He…
The pic above was the picture prompt for this writing exercise. Pic Courtesy:Geetika Gupta Kiran let out a contended sigh. A beautiful sunset, an endless supply of his favorite wine and the love of his life besides him. He turned towards his left and watched Laxmi snooze. His finger…
Written for Blog-a-rythm Sentence Prompt: It hurts no more Her eyes scrunched with pain and she swallowed a scream! She knew the first time would hurt, but SO much, she hadn’t imagined. Almost all the girls in school had lost theirs, giggling smugly as they huddled together, discussing every minute…
Picture Prompt Courtesy: Inderpreet Kaur Uppal His eyes followed her walking towards him, busy on the phone as always. He stood still as she neared, till her familiar perfume briefly spun a cocoon around him. ‘You’re back!’ she beamed, putting down her mobile phone, her smile doing strange things to…
Word Prompt ‘What’s Cooking?’ ‘What’s cookin’, good lookin’?’, winked Jose, plopping down the bag of groceries on the counter. ‘Since the fragrance of oranges and cinnamon is trailing right down the street…’, she felt his grin as he kissed her neck. ‘…let me guess, your famous Spiced Orange compote?’ his hands…
She admired herself. Dark curls danced around the oval of her face. Limpid eyes that enticed, framed by the perfect arch of her questioning brows. The haughty gracefulness of her high cheekbones. The cupid bow mouth that always hid a smirk within its smile, she was often told. She should…