Hop on #TuesFlashFicTrain R2-W3!

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Another week, another prompt!

First things first, though – be sure to check out yesterday’s winner post, since that’s the story you’ll have to continue.

So I’ve been trying to come up with a prompt for this week for a while – I usually start thinking about them around Friday and have at least a decent idea by Monday. This week, though, I’m drawing a blank. Since I’m drawing a blank and am unable to come up with an idea, that’s what your story this week will be about! This week, I want you to write a piece featuring someone unable to think or find a solution. I know, it’s pretty broad, but I’ve always preferred vague prompts, myself. The person in question doesn’t have to be the protagonist (how great would it be if it’s the villain?), so let your imagination run wild!

Remember, continue last week’s story, keep it under 400 words, and submit your response in the comment section below. Don’t forget to include your twitter handles and/or other social media links for promotion! Submissions close Friday at 11:59PM EST– tell your friends!

Questions, suggestions? Check out the rules in more detail and/or drop me a line!

As always, think happy thoughts!

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3 thoughts on “Hop on #TuesFlashFicTrain R2-W3!

  1. Don’t quite know where this is going yet, but here’s my offering
    Renee Tennis-McKinley @2old2tap

    Four rings on the other end before the machine picked up. He waited through the canned answer, and then remained silent after the beep. Leaving the line open, he counted twenty seconds. Perhaps he had called too early; no, Odessa was there and refusing to answer.

    He chuckled into the receiver before ending the call.

    What to do next. He leaned back in his leather chair and propped his feet on the satin finish of his mahogany desk. The manuscript lay on the blotter with his silver pen. He supposed he had best lock the foul piece of garbage in his safe.

    With a sigh he slid his feet back to the floor and leaned forward to scan the stack of paper one more time. He’d circled the errors, slashed a line through the outright lies. If it would have made a difference, he’d just as soon burn the thing. But it was late, he’d sleep on it, by morning he’d have a plan.

    He pulled a manila envelope from a drawer and shoved the manuscript inside. He strode across the office and placed the package in his safe. With a last look around his office, he shrugged into his jacket and exited.

    Once inside the elevator he checked his cell phone. The notifications showed one missed call; he swiped the icon for home.

    When the machine picked up he left a message, “just leaving the office, sweetheart. I’ll be home soon.”

    He hurried through the lobby and stepped into the night to hail a taxi.

    Liked by 1 person

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