Your writing prompt for the month of July is here!
You’re at work just like any normal day, and happen to look out the window as you head to the break room for some more coffee. What you see on your way makes you stop in your tracks. What is it?
300 words min, 500 words max. Title your work and sumbit it to firstname.lastname@example.org
We like to share your stories! Let us know if we have permission to do so!
Here’s one we received from June’s prompt, Fan Fiction:
‘BS’ by Elizabeth Kilcoyne
Sitting on the beach in June, 1995, surrounded by children and parents, all I could think about was the evening show. It was the annual Crane Beach Picnic for the Ipswich schools. Friends had already left for the drive to New York City, but I had promised. How would I get through the next four hours of dinner menu sharing and children screaming with glee? I finally caught a bus home and made my flight to JFK.
After supper across the street at Roy Rogers, we entered Madison Square Garden, showed our tickets, found our seats, and awaited the beginning of one of the few live concerts performed by Barbra Streisand. I had binoculars, so as not to miss a movement. Her first song was Memory. I was in heaven. Being a perfectionist, she was mortified when one of the musicians was playing in the wrong key, and stopped the concert to have a chat with him. She actually told us to, “Talk amongst yourselves while I attend to this.”
After the amazing concert, I tol my friends I was going to meet up with Barbra in her dressing room. They said, “Ya, sure”, and left. When I made m way back stage, Barbra said, “You must be Polly, would you like something to drink?” I said, “Yes”, and the evening began.
We talked about growing up in NYC, how she began singing publicly, and about her shyness on stage. I told barbra that I have been singing for years, mostly church songs and that I was currently taking lessons.
When we arrived at her suite, the party was in full gear. Barbra made her way around the room, inroducing me to celebrities and friends An hour later, she pulled me outside and we went to a karaoke club. We ate and sang and made new friends and sang some more. When we sang Second Hand Rose, skating across the stage seemed natural. Her parting song was Bye Bye Birdie! Mine was Don’t Rain on my Parade!
Her limo dropped me at JFK for my return trip to Boston. I arrived at work at 8:30am with a forever memory.