This week’s prompts are the final prompts for OLWG. You will find them at the bottom. Feel free to seize the prompts, twist them, form them, play with them as you will. All comers have always been welcome. The words below are just practice for me. I had a lot of fun writing them, and you know what I always say, “Practice makes perfect.”

Love you guys! Thanks for the long run.

Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.

###

I have come to the reluctant conclusion that it’s time to shut it down. It was a pretty good run though. Don’t you think?

I’m leaving the OLWG site open (at least for as long as WordPress allows it). I encourage you to surf through and pick a prompt or two when you are stuck and looking for inspiration.

I want to thank each and every one of you who played along with me here.

Shout out to Jules! SShout out to Violet! SSShout out to you all.

I plan on continuing to write for as long as I am able but will only be publishing from time to time at my other site here: tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice.

I hope to hear from you guys occasionally. Thank you each and every one, from the bottom of my heart.

I threw in a boatload of prompts about angels for you guys to play with. Keep scrolling down—

###

Last prompts are:

1. a muse? or an angel
2. an angel? or a witch?
3. shake the dust off my wings
4. an angel with ulterior motives
5. broken angels and other scary things
6. the angel at the St. Charles Hotel
7. the angels came into town last night
8. this is an angel feather
9. killer angel
10. it rains in hell, and angels can be bad
11. Los Angeles – The City of Angels
12. concrete angels and churchyards
13. speak of an angel and hear his wings
14. no angels around here
15. my angel is doing community service right now
16. angels speak dead languages, communication is difficult
17. countless snow angels in the park
18. the angel bent low and whispered, “grow, grow”
19. an angel? or an illiterate man?
20. don’t speak to me of angels
21. distorted sounds of angels playing in the garden
22. softly, gently touched down on the porch roof
23. your angel may tuck you in, but the devil leaves the porch light on
24. an angel who lies
25. angels have no memory, no remorse
26. angel on the bridge
27. I know I’m no angel
28. an angel with a sweet tooth
29. demon to some, angel to others
30. a griffin? or an angel?
31. philosophy will clip an angel’s wings
32. an angel in disguise
33. In heaven, an angel is nobody in particular
34. their parents think they are angels
35. angels write, but devils must print
36. even angels can be tempted
37. catching fallen angels
38. angel of mercy
39. angels can fly because they take themselves lightly
40. I am your angel
41. where angels are nothing more than whispers
42. she thought I wasn’t looking, I saw her wings
43. sent from above – obsessed with designer clothes
44. leather jackets hide her wings…
45. just another angel goin’ south for the winter

This week’s prompts are at the bottom. Feel free to seize the prompts, twist them, form them, play with them as you will. All comers are welcome. The words below are just practice for me. I had a lot of fun writing them, and you know what I always say, “Practice makes perfect.”

Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.

###

The Pasquatch family moved in next door when I was in second grade. There were four of them.

Mr and Mrs Pasquatch who, I learned from my parents, were named: Snoots and Anita (nee Anita Bath). Snoots was a ‘Fashion Engineer.’ He popularized the classic American style of wearing socks with sandals. And, the ever-popular, leaving the ‘Tom Ford’ label tacked onto the end of his suit-coat sleeve.

This spawned a new industry of weaving fake designer labels to sew onto your old suits. Names like ‘S.Pasquatch,’ or ‘Vaquero Apparel.’

Anita was a Tax Tactician. She was the founder and CEO of Equity Tax Advisors. ETA is a local, online competitor to Horizon Tax, on Centre Street, downtown across from the plaza.

Snoots and his wife had a son named Doug, Doug Pasquatch, and a daughter, Polly; Polly Pasquatch. Doug was about three years older than I, and his friends called him Zen, or Chi.

Polly and I were the same age.

We became fast friends
inseparable
She was a ginger
She gave me my first kiss
We dated through High School
We married at seventeen
Our daughter, Inez, was born that same year.
We called her Inez because neither of us already knew anyone with that name—
and because it was musical.

Polly passed away in an automobile accident when she was almost twenty-one
I never remarried

Inez is enrolled at State; majoring in Fine Arts
Specializing in weaving
natural materials
recycled fibres
I’m proud of her.

###

Prompts are this week are:

1. what the hell was I thinking
2. others do it faster
3. a handful of dimes

This week’s prompts are at the bottom. Feel free to seize the prompts, twist them, form them, play with them as you will. All comers are welcome. The words below are just practice for me. I had a lot of fun writing them, and you know what I always say, “Practice makes perfect.”

Here’s how to play along, if you are unsure.

###

Bob Jephcots, and his wife, Effie shared a ramshackle house near Milton with their son, Baxter. It was the winter of 78-79 and it was cold. Snow had lay on the ground since early November and the river iced from bank to bank, that entire time.

Bob was a Bellman and worked for the Post Office. He was twenty-eight years old.

Effie was a lavender who took in washing. She was twenty-six.

Baxter worked at the mill but, was little more than a street urchin, not yet eight years of age. His clothes were always tattered and he was in constant need of a bath.

That winter was cold and the family was running out of fuel for the furnace. On the night before Christmas, the Jephcots supped on potato pairings and drippings. Bob and Effie were trying to persuade Baxter to break some laws.

“Pickpocketing,” suggested Effie. “That’s a right horrible crime. You might have to spend a time in Gaol but, it shouldn’t be too long and that won’t be so horrible.”

 “Body-snatching or fraud?” Bob mused. “Whatever you decide it has to be enough for Father Christmas to notice. It must be bad enough that you get on the naughty list. There’s not much time left.”

Effie reached over and used her thumb and index finger to nudge her son’s chin in her direction. She smoothed his hair, “We need that stocking of coal this year, Baxter.” She implored.

###

Prompts are this week are:

1. this single feather
2. and lonely days
3. razor on the sidewalk