Good morning and happy trypophan-coma day! One way to fight your way out of the sleepyness is to engage your brain with a good, quick writing exercise, say ... OH - maybe write a response to one of our great weekly writing prompts, provided by our Prompt-guru Comicfan. But it is only fair, once you've helped yourself out of your funk, to share your response with the community in the Writing Prompt forum so others can engage their brains and marvel at what you pulled together!
Prompt 186 – Creative
Tag – Youth at a Cost
Everyone is going on about how great it would be to be younger. They want to look younger, act younger, and be mistaken for younger. Scientists and doctors have finally found a way to grant everyone’s wish, making them all back up so they look like they were sixteen, only with a body in perfect physical shape. No one is overweight, has acne, or the slightest blemish any more. However there is one catch to looking and acting so young, and it is a major catch. You can have the youth you want but you have to give up everything from your life now. As part of the surgery it wipes your mind blank and they replant memories so you fit into the present world as the perfect sixteen year old. So you start over as someone new, going to school and all. Is this something you are willing to do, give up your life and everyone in it now in order to be young and start all over?
Prompt 187 – Creative
Tag – First Line
“Please, tell me that time is wrong or I am in so much trouble!”
Looking back at past prompt responses, about a year ago we had Prompt 83: If a dream is a wish your heart makes, what is it if you are forced to live out a child's dream?
Cia took the plunge and here is what she came up with:
"But I don't want to!"
"But... but... you said anything!"
I sighed. I had said anything. "Why did you have to pick a balloon? You know how I feel about being high up. Why can't we go swimming in the ocean or on a camel ride through the desert?"
It was Jack's turn to sigh. That sounded way older than his six year old attitude should be able to come up with. He squinted up his eyes and pointed at me. "You said it was my choice!"
"You are entirely too spoiled," I said. Jack had been obsessed with the big balloon float characters ever since the Thanksgiving parade was on the television. He loved balloons and the bigger they were, the better they were. So now, here I was.
"Yep," he giggled, "now let me tie this string around you before we get the squeaky voice stuff so you can float. Then we can be in the Christmas parade too!"
"I can't believe the dream simulator even has this option. What did they call it, 'Turn your parent into a squeaky toy'?" I muttered.
He laughed as my voice got higher and higher as I inflated bigger and bigger and bigger. Finally I was hovering high over his head and he tugged on the string tied to my ankle.
"C'mon Daddy, I wanna be at the front of the parade so everyone can see us. Don't forget to wag your tail like Odie did."
Oh yeah, did I mention I was a giant balloon person dressed up like a giant dog with a big red bow around my neck? I'm pretty sure it was Jack's not so subtle way of letting me know what he wanted for Christmas.
"Bark for the people Daddy!"
I gave in and barked. Jack laughed as this high pitched yip came out of me even though I was a fifty foot dog. I found myself giggling along with him. It was silly and I didn't like floating five stories up, even in a dream, but I had promised him anything. Nothing could hurt me here and I could lock the tape so no one else could see it. Might as well let him have his fun; this was his dream after all.