An assortment of writing prompts to inspire writers.
When he was a boy, Eden read stories about kids his age who’d been raised in the jungle by monkeys or wolves and he secretly envied them. He didn’t stop to think that someone typing away at a computer had made those stories up. All he knew was they were magical and marvelous and he wanted to be part of them.When Dad would travel for work, Eden begged to tag along and he’d silently pray that they might get lost, swept up in a twister maybe and deposited safely in the middle of some lush green wilderness. He was always disappointed that they never strayed far from the dry dusty paths of Oklahoma highways. Still, he kept those stories in his heart, wishing for adventure and praying for it and slowly growing up.You forget about magic, I guess. When you grow up, you forget about jungles and monkeys and adventure. You stop wondering how to find enchanted forests and you start wondering about paying the rent. You forget that you once wanted to scavenge for food in the dark heart of Africa and you visit the same little sandwich shop every other day. Eden was no exception. He took a job as a bus driver, a job that lent absolutely no excitement to his quiet little life, and he kept growing up, growing tired and sad until one day a man with a suitcase climbed onto his bus and discovered he didn’t have enough change. Outside, Eden may have forgotten about his childhood dreams, but the inner Eden still remembered his lust for everything foreign and leapt when he heard the man’s accent. There was something magical here; he could feel it, even if it was disguised by the gentle pleading in the man’s voice. Something good was going to happen. And that assumption, whether it was right or wrong, forced Eden to make an exception, just this once, and let a passenger onto his bus without paying. Eden turned onto Jefferson and realized that nothing was different. Even with mysterious travelers in tow, nothing exciting had happened at all. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. He knew his bus wasn’t going to soar into the sky and pirates weren’t going to attack him, but an overwhelming disappointment threw him into a deep state of melancholy when the man disembarked a few stops later. That is, until Eden noticed that the man with the suitcase had left without his suitcase.
The fear of running out of time. The fear is not that there will not be enough time to accumulate more goods. The fear is that there will not be enough time to pass on all of the experiences and knowledge.