Tuesday, January 25, 2011

I don't know what to write.

I'm supposed to write a lot of journal entries for my Fiction class, but I honestly don't know what to write about. I have a list of "firsts," as you may see by my two previous posts, but none of them seem any good to me right now. I think I'll check on this site I found to help with writer's block. This is the prompt it gave me.

A quiet suburban cul-de-sac. A child's bicycle lies on its side, one wheel slowly turning.


Here we go.

A quiet suburban cul-de-sac. A child's bicycle lies on its side, one wheel slowly turning, the front wheel bent. A car pulled up to the downed metal heap in query of its status. The headlights peered over the spokes and chains, dirtied with bicycle grease. The car crept closer to the bike, crunching tiny pebbles between tires and concrete, making them even tinier. Shadows of the bicycle's body swung from the frame, connecting only at the parts where it touched the concrete. The shadows were like the tiny pebbles.

The driver exited the car, every breath turned to clouds in the chilled night. The car engine continued to run, the headlights stilled and illuminated the broken bicycle. The man, a lanky figure with gangly legs and even ganglier arms, reached to the bike and touched its handlebar. His finger stung from the miniature lightning bolt that flashed between him and the bar.

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