Hi folks,
Today’s writing prompt will be a little more on the imagination side of writing. Everyday I walk a few blocks to work on what most believe to be your typical, average city blocks (mostly). But for some reason the most amazing and astonishing things happen to me on those seven blocks. Today I would like you to write a poem or short story that keeps this idea in mind. Tell your audience the emotions and feelings you get from certain encounters along your path, i.e. work, friends, etc. and paint a picture with your words for the reader to visualize! Can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with. Keep writing and keep creating!
From my apartment on Chester Ave to work at Warrior Writers on Hazel Ave is what most individuals consider your typical, three block walk past row homes and quiet side streets with the occasional car or hipster cutting you off with his bike as you step into the street. But for me, those little blocks have seemed to define strange and beautiful as one in the same. As you enter you quickly realize the sounds and echoes from the city seem to be blocked out and a sort of sweet silence hangs over you. The silence breaks from an unseen child’s laughter or the quiet meow from a small orange tabby perching on a wooden fence as you glide down the birch and Japanese cherry tree laden walkway. You suddenly develop the feeling of being “misplaced” as the reality of this place begins to converge on itself. For me this realm creates the impossible to the possible! I’ve been attacked by a swarm of monarch butterflies covered in beautiful, swirling vibrant oranges and blacks, which seemed to keep pace as I bolted down the street barely missing a large Chester drawer converted into a tropical flower garden. I’ve been caught in the rain where on one side of the street the rains feel hard and fat but the other side remained dry as a bone (while the sun was still shinning!) I’ve seen a troll walk its dog and greet its neighbors as if this was an everyday thing! I’ve seen front porch family folk music bands playing old tunes on tired instruments to a homeless man belting out love songs with a golden voice under the street lamps. I’ve seen these blocks totally disappear under a blanket of white snow and come to life during a hurricane. Many say that this could happen to anyone at anytime and I agree but for now those short three blocks will always hold a special place in my heart, a place where my imagination gets its start and helps me visualize these wonderful and fantastic events - my own personal OZ.
