Not only is it the start of a new month, it's Friday, and for many, the end of the work week. For all of us here at Gay Authors, that means something else though, it means it's time for two new prompts from GA's Prompt Guru, Comicfan. Hope you enjoy these prompts and that they inspire you to write a little something, and if you do, don't forget to share your responses in the prompt forum!!

Prompt 344 – Creative
Tag – First Line
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

Prompt 345 – Creative
Tag – Kingdom
You always joked that you would love a place far from the hustle and bustle where everything could be done just as you want it. Little did you realize how that wish would come true? You came home from work to find six armed guards and a bunch of men in black suits waiting. It seems you are the lost heir to a small European country the size of a postage stamp. They have checked your dna and found It to be a match. The country you have thought of as home has revoked your citizenship and now you either take your place on the throne or you are someone without a country. What other problems await you?

This week we actually had a brand new member post their first story, which just happened to be a prompt response! I hope you enjoy ColumbusGuy's response to Prompt #343:

My fondest, or perhaps first, memory is of my German Shepherd Duchess; it was 1961, and we had moved into the country from the state capital that summer when I was three years old. We could now have a dog, since our new ranch house sat on a full acre, and so my sisters scoured ads, and we found a puppy for sale, all we had to do was give them twelve books of Green Stamps! Does anyone even remember collecting stamps from stores anymore?

 

Duchess wasn’t a typical Shepherd--at least not the police-dog type--she was mostly brown, with black muzzle and hairs scattered through her entire coat, but she was an excellent guard dog! The family was sacred to her, and any one who messed with her people was asking for it, even if it was in jest--the growl was the first warning, then a clamp of the jaws on an offending leg--not enough to break the skin, but a sure sign that anything else was entirely on your shoulders. She was a friendly dog, but would only take so much from a person before she would act: one incident was legendary--a group of boys riding bikes would throw rocks at her when she was a puppy, and when she got older, they tried it again, but with vastly different result--this particular day, she chased them and pulled one off his bicycle! That was the last time that group rode by our house.

 

As the years passed, she and I were constant companions, walking through the fields and along the narrow lanes of our neighborhood, chasing after me when I rode my bike, or chasing us as we would sled down the big hill in winter. During the summer we would play in the creek at the foot of that same hill, or doze in the shade of the ancient oak tree there where our tree-house was. I remember so many times when Duchess would be standing up to her knees in the creek, pawing at the water and barking at the small fish who swam there….So many days and evenings were spent just sitting next to each other with my arm around her, or her head resting on my lap--I would tell her all my secrets, good and bad, and receive the same soft brown stare back every time, without judgment or censure.

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