Creative Writing Group

I'm doing a creative writing group at my school. And I'll be posting all the works that come of it here. They're mostly short stories written from a prompt.

What if God had a telephone number?

"What a joke," I grumble to myself. I look to the slip of paper again and dial the number into my phone: 486-463-4373 (HVN-GOD-HERE). Raising the phone to my ear I listen as it rings...and rings. I shift and my sneakers squeak on the kitchen floor.

A deep voice greets my ears. "You've reached God. At the moment I'm working on a big problem in a small middle eastern country you've probably never heard of. Call back later or leave a message and I'll try to send you a sign in your lifespan--BEEP!"

I slammed the phone back into its cradle, hoping that I would wake up from this twisted dream.

No such luck.

I stood still in my kitchen looking between the phone and the piece of paper Liz had written the number.

I picked up the phone carefully, hoping I hadn't broken it, and speed dialed Liz.

"Hello." The voice was familiar.

"Hi Mrs. Morgan. This is Beth. Is Liz there?"

"Yes." I heard her call of "Liz!" through the phone.

Another line picked up and I thanked Mrs. Morgan for her time.

After the click of the first line disconnecting I started my rant. "How did you get that number? Who would set up a prank like that? When did..." I trailed off and took a deep breath.

"I get the number from an e-mail. I don't know who sent it. Why?"

"Did you call it?" I asked impatiently.

"No, I haven't had the time." She replied defensively.

"I got God's answering machine!"

"What?!"

"Yeah."

"Wow." Her voice was soft. It was weird, at least we agreed about that.

^*^*^*^*^

Write about a bimbo.

As soon as she walked in I knew. She was not like the rest of the girls here. I could tell by the way she walked that she was confident in herself. Her short shirt looked tight enough to cut off circulation.Her low riding jeans showed off the shape of her long legs. In the dark lighting of the club I could see how bright her emerald green eyes glowed. Her posture was self-assured as she sat down at the bar.

I couldn't hear her conversation with the bartender, but soon enough the bartender, all 5 ft. 4 of him, placed a pink drink with accompanying umbrella in front of her.

"Thank you." I heard her say, her voice high and her smile kind.

I decided it was time to make my move and pushed through the crowd of people to the bar. I slid gracefully into the barstool next to hers. I looked to the bartende, "I'll have a beer."

"I've never seen you in here before." I remarked to the beautiful woman.

"Yeah. This really isn't my scene."

"Oh yeah?" I probed, hoping for her to continue.

"I've been a model since I dropped out of high school. I want to be an actress. I was in the movie "Bob" you know? It was my big break."

"I loved that movie,"--I lie--"who were you?"

"Well I didn't really have a character. I was the one that screamed off-screen for the females."

"Really." I nodded. She was like a Barbie, mind and body. Perfect. A grin played on my face.

^*^*^*^*^

A girl carries one important thing with her, a pack of crayons. Why?

Her mother watched as she pulled on her shoes, slowly nut surely tying the laces. At six years old Amili was a bundle of energy.

"Come on, Am, we're going to be late."

"My name s'not Am, it's Amili!" She corrected her mother.

"Oh of course, I'm sorry. Here, put on you're coat. It's raining." She held out the coat so her daughter could quickly slip into it. Instead Amili pulled the rain slicker out of her mother's grasp and struggled into it on her own. "Good job. Let's go." She held the door open.

"Wait!" She darted down the hall and her mother barely heard the "I 'most forgot" that came down the hallway. A small crash came from Amili's bedroom quickly followed by a "I'm okay!!" Her came running back down the hall. A familiar box-shaped lump pushing against the fabroc of her pocket.

"Ready?"

"Yes, Mommy!"

"Let's go!" They left the house for the car and she hoped that someday her independant little girl would forget the one day she had forgotten to bring crayons with the coloring books.

^*^*^*^*^

That's it for writing. When I started writing the second one I didn't know where I was going with it, then halfway through I thought up the Barbie line and had to find a way to fit it in. By the end I was writing the female as ditzy as I could and the 'I' character as Dean Winchester of Supernatural. I think it works.

My next project for myself is to write some prompts using Skye Kittering and Drake Robbins as characters. I have some ideas for them, but I think putting them into timed prompt writing might help to make the solid characters.

The new season of Supernatural starts next Thursday, Sept. 28 at 9pm on The CW. I'm so excited!!!!!