Friday, May 15, 2009

A Morbid Writing Prompt for Friday

Friday's Writing prompt will seem a little morbid but could be a great hook.

Today's writing prompt is: At the funeral. . .

Imagine this is a scene in your latest WIP and for whatever reason your hero ro heroine has to attend a funeral. Something that happens at that funeral has to move your story forward or tell you more about the hero or heroine.

Now, go grab that reader's attention and send back what you write up.


FatBack Jack May 15, 2009 at 8:35 AM  

Roine shook himself awake and managed to get up off of the floor. Most everybody else at the funeral was doing the same. Some were moaning while one or two older people still remained unconscious. At least Roine hoped that they were just unconscious. “who the hell would gas a bunch of people attending a funeral?”

Roine felt his pocket. Everything was still there, wallet, phone keys. His watch and Naval Academy ring were also unscathed. Looking around he could see flashes of gold and silver on the fingers, hands and necks of those that were also trying to recover from this bizarre interlude. “If it wasn’t a robbery, what then?” he puzzled as he tried to notice anything out of the ordinary. “Then again, what defines ordinary at a funeral?” he mused. A scream drew his attention, he looked across and shock and horror almost had him back down on the ground. “Holy Shit” he yelled aloud, it was a robbery after all. He couldn’t believe what he saw or what he didn’t see to be more precise. The coffin was gone.

Roine ran up to the front of the chapel looked and than ran outside. Yes, the body of his ex-wife was gone along with the coffin. Well, at least everyone present was spared the drama of looking at a dead murder victim. Murdered, and now kidnapped posthumously, why? Well it makes sense that she was not murdered for anything she knew, the police were wrong. So it must have been something she had, still has. Where? Thoughts raced through Roine’s head, sick ones but hey there are so many places to hide things on or in a body. Then again, there was the autopsy, he saw the report himself. Nothing other than the stab wounds were found. “Ok Roine boy, better cancel that lecture in Holbrook and that BBQ lunch in Patchogue would have to wait as well. It’s time to dust of that shield and clean out that gun.” Roine Morse PI is re-open for business and his first client was him self. Of course Roine knew what that meant, “long hours and no pay, ah some things never change.”

Denise May 15, 2009 at 10:42 AM  

Okay, that got my attention. A stolen coffin with a dead body.

Looks like a good start to a PI series.


Ceri Hebert May 19, 2009 at 10:57 AM  

At the funeral I sat in the front row, as decorum commanded. I wished, however, that since I had to be here, I could've sat in the furthest, darkest corner from the flower-strewn casket as I could get. but I was Mayor Dale Hume's only child and it was my place to sit there, there eyes of the stern pastor, the laughing eyes of my father in the picture on the casket, on me.

I shifted uncomfortably on the cushioned chair. I was all too aware of the other gazes, hard stares, and curious glances being sent my way. God, I just wanted this to be over. I wanted to disappear from this small town once more and maybe this time I would never have to come back.

I snuck a glance to my left and sucked in my breath. I felt heat rush to my face. Such a dark look, an accusing one. But I didnt expect anything less from Aaroon Shipley. After all, I'd left him standing at the altar five years ago. Of course he hated me.

If only I felt the same about him.

Denise May 19, 2009 at 12:02 PM  

Ceri -

Loved the ending of that! Good hook to want more.


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