The following snippet comes from a story I wrote for a prompt-fiction project. I'm feeling particularly lazy today, so I'm offering this up as a peace offering.
Why? Because I have no clue if I updated last week.
Zeke only glanced at the plastic card, one thin brow rising at my (obviously) fake ID, but that didn’t stop him from sliding a dark drink over the counter to me. I throw it back, spluttering and choking at the sharp, unexpected burning that lights my throat on fire. Zeke has a towel already in hand, ready to help me save face.
“Sip it until the burn goes away, then you can knock them back like a true professional.”
“Trade secret?” I cough, pressing the cloth to my mouth.
“Common sense,” Zeke snaps, shoving my refilled glass across the table to me.
Now, on a separate note: The prompt-fiction project is something I started up with two of my writing group members (who also happen to be my coworkers...). If you are a writer, it's easy to empathize with the feeling of "What should I write about?" That's what we came together to do. My coworker Jaboui, who first approached me with this idea (as I'm the web-smart-techie) stated it like such:
"If you give a carpenter a project to build a cabinet, but no real blueprints outside the basic, what will happen? You'll get many different types of cabinets back; the creative aspect can flow, and it's fascinating to see the different results of that same, basic blueprint."
So come see our newest blueprint! Writer's Blocks