Remember when we used the word ‘social’ without following it with ‘distance’? Those two words once added up to an oxymoron, but it’s become normal with a speed that daunts me.
Can you write a timely story in which two strangers make a connection in a supermarket queue, despite, or because, of social distancing rules?
If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley(at)iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I may publish it on SkyLightRain.com.
Throughout the Covid-19 pandemic, one of the most heart-warming, spirit-lifting, tear-jerking responses has been the weekly applause for our wonderful NHS and other key workers.
The overflow of gratitude has been criticised by some, however, including key workers themselves, who’ve pointed out that it shouldn’t take a crisis of this magnitude for their hard work to be valued.
Can you spin this into an impactful tale?
If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley(at)iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I may publish it on SkyLightRain.com.
In horror films there are few things creepier than an empty playground, or one where the chains of a single swing squeak in the wind, sans child.
The only life I’ve seen in this local play area has been the presence of two men mowing the grass. It struck me as infinitely hopeful, this act to maintain the area in hope children will soon play here again.
Can you weave a story from this scene?
If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley(at)iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I may publish it on SkyLightRain.com.
These times we’re living through are strange and unsettling and stressful. I think we’re all becoming a little blinkered.
This week I challenge you to portray our current #lockdown circumstances through the lens of a pair of eyes other than your own. How is this for the old person separated from their grandchildren, from the homeless person’s point of view, through the eyes of a child too young to fully understand why everything has changed?
What’s happening in that street just beyond sight of your own? What’s occurring behind those doors, inside that home with the curtains closed all day?
If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley(at)iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I may publish it on SkyLightRain.com.
Looking through a few ancient photos, I found this one snapped in Bristol City Museum & Art Gallery. Seems like a different lifetime!
Remember when we could go to museums? Remember when we were allowed to indulge our curiosity and actually touch? Do you think you’ll ever take these freedoms for granted again?
What narratives could you spin from this scene?
If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley(at)iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I may publish it on SkyLightRain.com.
This heartfelt plea on a pavement near my home caught my eye. As the lockdown continues, the parameters of our world narrow, along with our viewpoints on essential and non-essential items.
Could this post-it note provide the prompt for a story for our peculiar times, with a focus on our shifting priorities? Alternatively, use it as part of a found poem.
If you prefer, use this prompt to jump forward to when our country is run by the kids currently being homeschooled by day-drinkers.
If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley(at)iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I may publish it on SkyLightRain.com.
We’re often reminded at the moment of the dangers of proximity and touch. The coronavirus can survive for a surprisingly long time on hard, shiny objects, which means an unwary touch could spell danger.
Imagine if the risks are not of falling ill, but falling in love. Perhaps a polished pebble passed between two strangers could result in instant friendship, or a hand wrapped around a contaminated railing* could give a careless passerby the ability to fly. Maybe a finger tapped against a tiled wall could mean hearing the thoughts of every person who trudged by in the past day or so.
There are endless possibilities. Where will your imagination lead you?
*Don’t try this anywhere but at home…
If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley(at)iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I may publish it on SkyLightRain.com.
The current lockdown has necessitated exploring a local walking routes in an attempt to retain sanity. Recently I wandered alongside a housing estate with the above graffiti.
Who could Anna Campbell be? If you look closely you’ll see that the original texted stated ‘Anna C. is dead’, with the word ‘dead’ painted out, perhaps by Anna herself, or a loyal friend, and replaced with ‘immortal.’
What’s the story behind this message and the change made to it? Is it a defiant shout-out or a warning?
If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley(at)iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I may publish it on SkyLightRain.com.
You may have spotted the #WritingPrompt I published a while back, featuring a beautiful old-fashioned rocking horse spied in a nearby playground.
Shortly after taking that photo, I strolled past and noticed that the steed had been moved onto the grass surrounding the play area. Not only had it been knocked over, but it looked a bit odd.
The poor creature’s straw-filled head had been brutally torn from its shoulders.
Who might have committed such a pointless act of violence against an innocent toy? Was it someone with an equine phobia, a terrible childhood memory involving a fall from a rocking horse, or a general desire for destruction spawned by the current stresses of the pandemic? Might they have hallucinated the dinky woollen rocker into a terrifying hell-stallion?
If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley(at)iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I’ll publish it on SkyLightRain.com.
A while back I visited The Black Country Living Museum, an open-air museum in Dudley. It includes a vintage fairground, with authentic rides and displays, including this horrifying cherub artwork.
The evidence is clear – not only has Donald Trump remained unchanged (some might say un-evolved) for more than 100 years, but even then he attempted to portray his innocence in the most overt and grotesque terms. Either that, or some 1920s artist had a satirical eye on the future.
How could you turn this into an unsettling tale?
If you write or create something prompted by this, please send an email to judydarley(at)iCloud.com to let me know. With your permission, I may publish it on SkyLightRain.com.