January 9, 2021

September 2021 Prompt

September 12th is the National Day of Encouragement. We would love to hear your stories about the people in your life who have encouraged you over the course of your life and what kind of impact they made.

In 500 words or less (even though we know these individuals deserve a whole novels worth of thanks), tell us about the people or person who encouraged you to reach your goals and accomplishes great things.

Submit your piece here and, Read other responses here

Thanks for all the thoughtful responses you submitted to our August prompt!

January 9, 2021

September 2021 Prompt

Submit your piece here and, Read other responses here

Thanks for all the thoughtful responses you submitted to our August Prompt!

January 9, 2021

By Katt

WANTED

Party to aid the Blackwood Estate in the successful and safe recovery of one Adlana Winters. Female elf approximately 567 years old, short silver hair, pale blue eyes, dull white skin, drooping ears, sour disposition, and gimpy right foot.

Adlana is a resident of the Blackwood Retirement Village who suffers from memory loss and hallucinations. Caretakers believe she slipped out of her living quarters a day ago and have not been able to locate her on the Estate's grounds. Mrs. Winters' family believes she may try to make her way to the Autumn Hill silver mine. Mrs. Winters is not believed to be a danger to others.

The Lady Ambermane of house Blackwood, offers a reward of one boon, no questions asked, to the party who is able to safely return Mrs. Winters to her residents.

...

“How does the flyer sound, Lady Ambermane?”

“Perfectly short and lacking all the unnecessary details, Johannes,” Lady Ambermane said adjusting her ivory necklace in a mirror. “Have the scribes make copies for each tavern in the area around Autumn Hill, unsavory or other wise, and have them delivered.”

“Of course, my lady,” Johannes said bowing and then rolling up the flyer. His large, halfling footfalls echoed against the stone walls as he trotted south towards the library.

Lady Ambermane made her way to her personal study and pulled her robe snug against her slender, elven frame. Inside of her study, Lady Ambermane selected a registry from a drawer in the oak desk. She flipped to a marked page and was met with the piercing glare of Adlana Winters and 'Overdue for processing' stamped in red under her image. It was such a shame to see a once beautiful elven woman fall into such despair, but she knew the consequences of leaving after agreeing to her fate, everyone knew the consequences. Lady Ambermane sighed and closed the registry as an aggressive knock pounded against the door.

“It is open,” Lady Ambermane called as she slid the registry back into its place and pushed the drawer closed. A silver haired elven man barged through the door clad in scribe robes. His bright blue eyes fixed on Lady Ambermane with rage.

“You're sending mercenaries after my great aunt Adlana?” he yelled stomping down his foot. “She's already afflicted by the deserters curse...”

“The mines are dangerous as your family is well aware,” Lady Ambermane sighed folding her delicate hands together. “It wouldn't be right knowingly sending my own workers, unless you're willing to volunteer.”

Carberos froze and looked down at his feet. The mines are a place enemies of the Blackwood family are sent and never heard from again. So, no, he wasn't going to volunteer.

January 9, 2021

By Helen

What Good is a Guitar?

Please do not offer me no strings attached.

What is an arrow without a stringed bow? And Cupid’s javelin just doesn’t have the same ring.

Please don’t offer me no strings attached.

For what good is a guitar without strings?

This is something like draft # 5 and it isn't quite doing what I want. Disobedient little thing. But here's what I've been working on!

December 31, 2020

January 2021 Prompt

We'd love to see something you started writing in 2020—a poem, a story, an essay. Maybe you abandoned it last April, but still want to share what you started; or maybe this prompt inspires to come up with something fresh—your choice. Post 500 words or less of something you've been working on.

Submit your piece here

and, Read other responses here

Thanks for all the creative responses you submitted to our November/December prompt!

November 28, 2020

By Jerri Miller

You check out a book from the Johnson County Library’s Central Branch and head out driving west onto I70. The prairie is beautiful until you notice black clouds coming up behind you. Your engine light comes on, so you take the next exit, a rest stop you don’t remember ever seeing before in which the sign reads, Night Forest 1 mile…

The city melts away and large expanses of land fill my view as I speed down I-70 heading for a weekend in the Flint Hills. My library book rests on the passenger seat begging for me to open the cover to reveal the magic contained on the pages. Just me, a book, and wide-open spaces for two entire days. The best medicine after too many months living within the same four walls.

Ahead are nothing but tall grass and blue skies. A quick check in the rear-view mirror to make sure the city is now gone from view reveals dark clouds forming, almost racing to catch up with me. A good Kansas storm would be a welcome delay on my trip, though it does seem a little odd that the storm is moving west. A western moving front is rare, but not unheard of and I think of it as a sign of the wonderful things to come over the next two days.

The clouds overtake me. A dollop of rain pounds my windshield and I jump and jerk the steering wheel to the point I almost run myself off the road. A second hits my hood so hard it leaves a dent and I swerve again. A third drop hammers the roof of the car and I duck without thinking. The check engine light on my beloved old car flicks on and the engine roars louder even though I removed my foot from the gas pedal.

A rest stop is just ahead, and I take it, grateful for the opportunity to get off the road. I don’t remember this exit being here before. As I make my way on the off-ramp, I see a sign that reads Night Forest 1 mile. There aren’t forests on the prairie.

The dark clouds are still lingering, but rain no longer pelts my car. I maneuver through the winding paved path of the rest stop, but I don’t see a parking area. I urge my disabled vehicle to keep chugging along, as I look for a place to park, but as I keep driving, more and more trees come into view. It is almost as if they are moving in closer.

Suddenly you realize you are kind of lost. It seems really dark for afternoon and you find yourself in a forest. Toto, you for sure aren’t in Kansas anymore. You are thinking of getting back in your car and ignoring the engine light when someone comes up behind you...

Between the dark clouds that are now so low I feel like I could almost reach up and touch them, and the tall evergreen trees crowding around me with limbs drooping down as if to drag the ground, it feels a bit claustrophobic. I think I should turn around and try my luck on the highway, but as I stop the car and look behind me, the road is no longer there. Curtains of branches are all I can see wherever I look.

I reach for my phone, but the only thing I find in the seat beside me is my library book. I reach behind me and grab my purse from the floorboard, but my phone isn’t there either and I am struck with the memory of putting it on the charger before leaving for the library, thinking I could get in a quick charge before heading out. I don’t remember picking it up.

I push open the door with a creak of age and step out of my car stretching out my own aging body. Maybe I could walk back to the highway. Feeling the car key in my hand, I shut the door and start walking toward the direction I just came from. Before I reach the end of the vehicle, the pavement disappears and keeps disappearing right before my eyes. I am certainly not in Kansas anymore. This must be the Night Forest, but it doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense.

My heart is beating hard and I can’t seem to catch my breath. I think I should just get back in my car, but instead I lean against the door, the cool of the window against my back, trying to slow my breathing when I hear, “What are you doing here?”

My heart stops and I whirl toward the sound of the voice. “Wha-?” I don’t see anyone. Scanning the area, I walk around the car, thinking someone might be hiding on the other side, but nobody is there. I bend down until my knee is on the ground and I lean over, steading myself with my hand, to look under the car. Nothing.

“What are you doing?” My arm gives away and I fall face first into the dirt, but quickly pop up and stand, but I am alone. My fingers search my face for damage, but beyond some stinging, it seems I’m fine. No blood. One good thing for the evening, or afternoon – Night?

Just when you think things can’t get any stranger, the rain and lightning start, the sky turns greenish yellow, and you hear strange winds whistling like a train coming. You don’t panic. You try to remember what to do from scout camp, back in the day. You are deciding between hiding under an enormous pine tree or laying down in a ditch you see up ahead, which you distinctly remember is for lightning or tornadoes (and at this point you could be in danger of both). You are leaning toward […] when you notice two things: a small cave in a little green hill to your west and a hot air balloon parked on top of it with no one inside. You immediately run to...

Rain begins to fall, not the jarring drops from earlier, but a heavy downpour that drenches my clothes and hair in seconds. The steady rain helps calm my nerves until lightning cracks across the sky like someone taking a picture. The tall trees bow to the wind that begins to scream through like a train. Small limbs fly by and one smacks me in the face before I could react. I get my arm up in time to deflect the next one and, for a moment, I feel like I can take care of myself.

I do an awkward crouched run toward the side of the road and move quickly in the direction my car is facing, since I know only trees are behind me. A greenish yellow glow from the sky lifts the darkness enough for me to see a ditch and I dive for it just as a large branch flies above me. That one would have surely knocked me out and I am grateful to be in the ditch.

Laughter surrounds me, “The cave would have been a better choice.” Now the voice is getting irritating. “What cave?” I yell but the wind swallows my words. The voice hears me anyway, “Look to the west.”

What the hell? Which way is west?

I clamber up the side of the ditch, peering over the edge. As the sky flashes white, I see a small hill just a short distance away. That must be where the cave is, but stranger is the hot air balloon on top of the hill. I can’t think about the hot air balloon right now and I pull myself over the edge of the ditch and half crawl, half run toward the hill. I reach it in seconds but there is no cave opening.

My heavy breathing from excitement and exertion turns into hyperventilation and I hug the grass and dirt, which allows me to slow my breathing. Another flash and I see the cave opening to my left, and I force myself toward it, stumbling over a fallen limb as I enter, which causes me to land on my hands and knees. The cave floor is soft, and I quickly realize I am fine. I begin to laugh, because of falling or the absurdity of the entire evening – I’m not sure which.

Just when you think your day is turning out rather well considering everything, you realize the jig is up. They’ve found you. Should you fight back, run, or prepare a very zesty speech to get them on your side?...

The rain streaks sideways just beyond the entrance to the cave, but it is dry inside, and surprisingly warm, which is welcome since I am soaked through to the bone. I decide to stay here until the storm passes, maybe even stay the night. I can figure out what to do in the morning, when I can get a good lay of the land. Exhausted from the events of the day, I no longer have the mental energy to panic. I lean against the cave wall and think about how lucky I am to have found a place out of the storm.

But I didn’t find it, did I? I remember the voice that seemed to both mock and help me. I want to figure out what is happening, but my eyes will not stay open and I drift to sleep.

“Wake up!” I start and sit up, disoriented. I look around and find that it is pitch black. I can’t see anything, though my nose fills with the scent of damp earth. I can feel the soft dirt beneath me and the abnormally warm cave wall behind me. It wasn’t a nightmare, or I am still in it. Thankfully, my clothes are dry. How long was I asleep?

It is preternaturally quiet which makes my arm hairs raise. I crawl toward what I hope is the opening of the cave. When I touch the branch that caused me to make a less than graceful entrance, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Light from a hidden moon allows me to make out the outlines of trees and shadows of limbs and branches strewn all around.

I can’t tell if my car is still where I left it and I decide it is better to stay in the cave until morning. I start to withdraw back into the darkness when I am shoved out into the open. Again, I find myself on the ground and I scramble to face whoever or whatever pushed me, but I can’t see anything. Laughter vibrates in my ears and fear spreads throughout my body freezing me in the moment. Another shove from my right switches my body into flight mode and I take off in the direction of my car.

Stumbling more than once on storm debris, I make it to the car, running into it at a full sprint, banging my knee and catching the rest of my body by putting my hands up against the window. I am stunned by the abrupt stop and it takes me a moment to recover and yank on the handle. It’s locked. I pat myself down to find the key I know I had when I shut the door, but I can’t find it. Laughter is growing louder as whatever is in this forest gets closer. I try the other doors just in case, but none of them budge.

I attempt to run my fingers through my tangled hair, and I remember the hot air balloon. I run back to the hill, braving whatever mystery is harassing me, hoping with every step that the balloon survived the storm.

Amazingly, I only fall once in my sprint back to the hill, but this time I wasn’t so lucky not to break the skin. Blood runs down my leg as I scale the side of the hill in seconds, adrenaline doing its job. The hideous laughter always on my heels. Once at the top, I find the hot air balloon intact, ropes tethering it to the earth, and I feel tears prick in the corner of my eyes.

I hoist myself over the edge of the basket and start undoing the knots since I have no knife. I feel the balloon strain against the remaining ropes as I get each one untied. The laughter is getting louder and it is taking longer than it should release the ropes. As I work on the last knot, I feel the basket dip with the weight of an unseen force. My shaking fingers won’t cooperate fast enough, and I begin to panic.

I stop for a moment. Breathe. Another tug on the rope. Breathe. Focus on the rope. Breathe. Another tug and the rope falls away, releasing the balloon from the earth. I slump into a heap on the floor of the basket and let the tears come, not even caring what happens next.

Morning finally comes. When you wake up, you find your car safely parked at the rest stop in Kansas. There aren’t many trees, if any, around. Inside your car, you find your library books and a note that reads...

Knocking wakes me up and I squint my eyes against the morning rays of sun. I look to the left and a man is standing outside my car window. In a daze, I roll the window down, it takes almost more strength than I have to crank the handle.

“Are you OK?” the man says.

“Um. Yes. I think so. I must have fallen asleep,” but as I say these words, I see the dent on my hood. “I had a bit of car trouble, and I don’t have my phone.”

“Go ahead and give it a start and let’s check it out.”

“Sure. Um. Thank you,” and I turn the key that is still in the ignition. How did it get there? It was lost to me last night. The car starts without any hesitation, even the check engine light that was flashing so menacingly yesterday is no longer on.

“Seems like everything is working just fine. Do you want me to look under your hood to make sure?”

“Um. No, thank you. It must have just needed a rest,” I smile. “You know how old cars can be.”

“Yes, I do, ma’am. Drive safe now.”

“Thank you,” I say as I roll my window back up. The man walks back to his rig and I notice there are no trees, just the open expanse of the prairie and I am sitting at a rest stop just off the highway. My body aches in places I didn’t know existed and I reach down to check my knee. It’s sore, but no evidence of blood. I reach into the passenger seat to grab my phone, and remember again that I don’t have it, but notice a piece of paper tucked into my library book. I gently tug it from the grasp of the pages and read the words printed on the page.

You are capable of more than you think.

November 19, 2020

By Maezee Khemraj

You check out a book from the Johnson County Library’s Central Branch and head out driving west onto I-70. The prairie is beautiful until you notice black clouds coming up behind you. Your engine light comes on, so you take the next exit, a rest stop you don’t remember ever seeing before in which the sign reads, Night Forest 1 mile…

I get out onto I-70. As I drive up onto the pavement of a side lot. I pick up my phone to call my mom, but it is dead. It had been plugged into the car the entire time, and when I checked a couple of minutes ago it was fully charged. I’m probably just in a dead spot I thought to myself. I look out the passenger window and see a gas station that says “Betty Ex”. I don’t know if it is open or not, but there are lights on inside. I drive up onto the pavement of the parking lot and get out. As I walked up to the door the headlights flickered on my car. I started to get kinda scared.

I went inside the gas station and called out to see if there was anybody there. I started to hear whining and growling, not mean growling, but more of a playful growl. I looked behind the counter and saw a box full of puppies. They were not ordinary puppies they were Canadian Eskimo puppies. They are one of the most expensive dogs in the world. They can cost from $800 to $8,750! Why would someone leave such expensive dogs behind the counter of a gas station? There were 3 of them. One was brown with white spots, one black with white around its eye, and the last one had a black body with a white chest. I couldn’t leave them here, they needed food and water. I looked around the store and spotted a section for dogs. I grabbed a bag of dog food and a couple of bowls and fed the dogs. Before I left I grabbed a few boxes of water and the necessities like shirts, pants/shorts, underwear, socks, sleeping bag, blankets, and a couple of pillows.

I took the box of puppies and 3 leashes out of the store with a few collars. I fastened each collar on the puppies and took them to the bathroom on a small patch of grass outside of the store, there was no way I was going to have them go to the bathroom in my car! I put a couple of towels on the backseat so that they could roam.

Suddenly you realize you are kind of lost. It seems really dark for an afternoon and you find yourself in a forest. Toto, you for sure aren’t in Kansas anymore. You are thinking of getting back in your car and ignoring the engine light when someone comes up behind you...

I was driving back onto the highway when someone pulled up behind me. I rolled down my window so the lady could talk to me. She asked me if I had seen the lady that runs Betty Ex. I told her that I was just there and nobody was at the counter. She told me that the lady is the granddaughter of Betty. She took over her grandma’s store after she had died. Her name was Brandy, she was a thief, she stole a very expensive car and is now on the run. She gave me her number and told me to call her if I spotted Brandy.

As I continued to drive more and more trees were coming up around me. I found that I was not on a paved road anymore. Dust was flying up behind me. Storm clouds started to form. It looked like tornado clouds, but I was not quite sure. The dogs started to whine and yip, so I pulled over and moved them to the front. They started to quiet down a little bit, but I knew something was still wrong.

I immediately ran to the cave. If it was lightning I did not want to be stuck in the air and if it is a tornado I did not want to be outside, so the best choice was the cave. I quickly grabbed the Puppies and all the things I had bought at the Gas Station and ran to the edge of a ditch. I had to figure out how to get across a ditch to get to the cave. I took the puppies first, then came back for the rest of the stuff. As I stepped foot in the cave with the last load it started to pour. I set up the sleeping bag for me and then put the blankets and one of the pillows next to me for the puppies.

When it had stopped raining I looked outside to see how full the ditch was. It was full to the top. There was no way we would be getting out of here any time soon. I looked around the edge of the cave and spotted some sticks. I quickly took those inside and used them to make a fire with some grass that was dry enough to use. I look at the watch I have on my wrist. I could barely read it, but I think it says 8:30 pm. I decided that maybe we could get some sleep. I headed back to the sleeping bag and the puppies crawled to the end again. I couldn’t argue, at least they were keeping my feet warm.

I woke up suddenly in what I thought was the middle of the night. I checked my watch, it was 2:30 in the morning. I thought I had heard growling. I wasn’t sure though It could have just been the puppies. I was about to fall back asleep when it happened again. It was a low rumbling sound, like a wild dog. I got up and put the dogs on the leashes and packed everything up. Whatever it was I did not want to be in its territory. As I was about to leave the cave, the growling became more distinct. I turned around and I was face to face with a bear! I ran to the ditch and swam across while holding everything high up in the air including the dogs. When I got to my car I threw everything inside and locked the doors. The bear came thrashing through the water filled ditch. As he approached my car he threw his paws on it and rocked it back and forth. I was terrified! After about 20 min he went away. I was relieved, but I waited another 10 min just to make sure he was gone then fell asleep.

I woke up and looked around, last night was terrifying. I checked to make sure the puppies were all ok. As I went back to looking at the Steering wheel I spotted a piece of paper on the dash that was not there before. I picked it up and read, “Daughter, thank you so much for going on this trip for me! I knew I was not going to be able to make it to Betty Ex in time for your birthday due to my trip to Texas. I think you have already found out what I was going to pick up for you from Betty Ex. The stuff the officer told you was all made up, the “officer” is a good friend of ours. That is why she was not in a real police car. I will meet you at home. Dad.” I knew my dad was ornery, but this, this was too far.

November 12, 2020

By Val Gilliam

The sign on I-70 says Night Forest. I’m not sure if it’s a town, a nature preserve, or maybe a rest stop, but hopefully it will have a gas station, whatever it is. I check my Google Maps but there’s no cell signal. Not a single bar. In fact, my phone is dead, though I know it’s been charging via the plug in my radio auxiliary.

I approach the little townlet, I suppose you could say, and there is indeed a gas station. There is also a hole in wall restaurant, an antique shop and, oddly, a nail salon. I’m strongly reminded of the next book in a series I checked out at the library before I left Kansas City. Charlaine Harris’ stories of Midnight, Texas, was fantastical fiction but here I am in a town that appears to be almost completely identical to Harris’ world.

I pull into the gas station, pull out my credit card for the pump and open my car door. A burst of wind snatches it from my grasp and slams the heavy door into the pole by the pump station. Cursing, I swing out and inspect for damage. A small dent in the door and some blue paint on the pole appear to be all that was done. I can live with that, I decide. The car is old, but reliable. A few dings make it look distinguished.

There is a credit card adapter to the ancient pump and, amazingly, it works. I fill up, pop the hood to check my oil and brake fluid levels, but everything seems normal. Well, I tell myself, it is an old car. The idiot light was bound to come on for no reason eventually. It didn’t look like there was anyone inside the store, so I forewent a drink and a candy bar, got back in my car, and drove off.

I’ve no sooner gotten a mile out of Night Forest, when the dark sky seems to encroach, faster and faster. The clouds don’t appear to whirl like a tornado and there is no storm front line. I see no lightning and hear no thunder. There is a flash of light in front of my car, a strobe bright enough to blind me. I swerve a bit, hand raised to shade my eyes so I can see. The light disappears and instead of the flatlands of the Great Prairie, I’m in a dense forest unlike any I’ve ever seen.

I’ve been to the Rocky Mountains, the Grand Tetons, the Ozarks and the Appalachians. I’ve been in woods and forests many times in my life. I’ve never, in all the places I’ve been, seen trees like these. The limbs are leafless and some so brittle they are already cracked and hanging like some dead thing. The foliage at their base is thick, though, wild like blackberry brambles, ominous and dangerous-looking.

I squint, trying to see the road in front of me in the intense darkness, flipping on my headlights to bright. They barely penetrate the inky atmosphere that grows heavier by the second. A bit fearful and trying to cheer myself up, I think, Toto, you aren’t in Kansas anymore.

Before I can think another thought, a loud honking horn blows behind me and a stream of what appears to be a semi-truck’s high beams light up the interior of my car. The semi comes up fast, horn still sounding like a warning. I pull to the side of the road, thinking to let the driver by, but nothing goes by and the headlights disappear. And my car is completely dead.

As I look around in confusion and no small amount of terror, the storm that the darkness heralded starts in earnest. Now I see the lightning, the thunder rumbles through me like an entire orchestra of kettle drums, and the darkness has a hint of yellowish light that cannot be good. Knowing I can’t stay in the car in such dangerous conditions, I grab my purse, cell phone, and the flashlight from the glove compartment before exiting the car and running for what I hope is a ditch I can lay in.

I can barely stay upright, the wind buffeting me about like a ragdoll. The wood of the trees creak ominously. I’m afraid if the winds turn into something like a tornado, the limbs will snap and become projectiles. The powerful gusts have a whistling sound to them, like an oncoming train. I’m fairly certain that’s a harbinger of an approaching tornado.

There is no ditch. It’s flat all the way to the treeline. I’m frightened and don’t know what to do. My flashlight is like a dim candle in the pitch blackness of this middle of nowhere where there’s no moon overhead. In short, almost useless.

The lightning flashes make me look up reflexively and, to my amazement, I can see through the trees a hill. Have I gotten through the thick foliage and trees so effortlessly? Or am I so injured I don’t realize it? Or terrified? I keep going, thinking maybe to use the hill as a buffer.

As I get closer to the hill, the strobes of electricity reveal a cave at the base and, bizarrely, on top what looks distinctly like a hot air balloon. Despite the hurricane-type winds whipping about me, pushing and pulling me about, the balloon is calm and seems to not be affected at all by the massive storm around it.

I am less concerned about the balloon than I am my own safety and head for the shelter of the cave. Rain is starting to pelt and I’m certain there are hail lumps mixed with it. Either way it stings and stabs at me. I’m soaked to the bone in seconds.

The cave beckons and I make it, diving in head first as lightning bolts dog my footsteps. Without the wind dragging me around, I’m able to keep my balance but I have to crouch inside the cave. It has a very low ceiling. I shine my flashlight around and my stomach twists as it reveals the white gleam of old bones. Any thought that these might be animal bones is dispelled when a noise deeper within the cave makes me move the beam that way and a human skull gapes at me.

The book I had returned to the library before checking out Charlaine Harris was on myths and legends of Native Americans. I bought it for fun reading and enlightenment but now I wonder if it wasn’t fortuitous. The story of the little cannibals of the Great Plains are brought forcibly to mind, seeing this overabundance of human remains everywhere I shine my light.

There is a cackle to my left, but my light shows nothing. A snigger to my right reveals the same. Shuffling feet echo in my ears but I can see nothing, no matter where I aim my flashlight’s beam. My choice now is the storm raging outside or whatever is in here that consumes human beings. As I quickly weigh my options a third solution pops into my head: the balloon!

I dart out of the cave, stretching to full height as I exit and ignore the raging tempest around me. I go up and up the hill, dropping my purse in my haste but thankful I’d tucked my cellphone in my back pocket. There are outraged, tinny, distant shouts below me and I keep clambering up. The balloon is still there, a calm sentinel in the chaos.

There are ropes and stakes pounded into the ground to hold the old-style air transport in place but I make quick work of them, unwinding the ropes and climbing in the basket. Almost child-like howls of ire filter to my ears as the balloon begins to ascend and a jerk tells me I didn’t get all the ropes loose.

I run around the basket, getting rid of all the ropes, regardless if I’d undone them from the ground. Another lurch, though, means I am about to have potential fellow passengers. I’d lost my purse, which had my mace spray. A long bar of some sort was laying on the basket floor and I grabbed it up.

A little head, full of sharp teeth, popped over the edge of the basket and I bashed it hard. The being screamed and fell. Two more went the same way but that was all that appeared. The balloon was soaring off, no longer hindered. Now all I have to worry about is the storm. I have no way of controlling the balloon and can only hope for the best.

I don’t know when I fell asleep or even how I could have considering the danger I was in all night. I’m in a ditch by the side of the road, near the little gas station of Night Forest, Kansas. I stagger to my feet, exhausted, bedraggled and really freaked out. There are no trees, no cave, no balloon, no storm, nothing but a little rest stop town that looks disturbingly like it was put there by a paranormal writer.

I go to my car, ignoring the odd look from the gas station attendant staring at me through his grimy window. When I look inside my car, I stop and stare. There is my purse. My cellphone is charging through the auxiliary plug and lit up with the time of 8:18 a.m. The library books I’d checked out are in my passenger seat, where I’d left them.

I open the car door and sink onto the seat, leaning back to take deep breaths and wonder if there was something in that kombucha I drank yesterday. Had I hallucinated everything? Did I step into another dimension somehow? Maybe I’d fallen asleep at the rest stop, too tired to continue on and it had been a wacky nightmare that caused me to sleep walk…

Something flutters and catches my eye. On the windshield there is a piece of folded paper tucked under my driver side wiper. I get out, snatch it up and read it:

You’ve always wanted your own adventure. Thought I would give you a bit of a scary one for a start. Look for more to come. Maybe this will inspire something that you’ll get published. Take care and I love you. -Dad

I smile, warmed despite the harrowing adventure I’d had. Dad. That man was pure mischief, even in the afterlife apparently.

November 9, 2020

November/December Writers Conference 2020 Prompt

November/December 2020 Prompt

Join our 2020 Johnson County Library Writers Conference Prompt. These five connected mini prompts will lead you on a short choose-your-own-adventure story journey. We offer the choices but it’s up to you to take the adventure!

Here’s how it works: Use all five prompts to lead you through a written adventure in any way you imagine.

Write prose or poetry or anything in between.

Aim for 500 words or less for each part of your journey.

Have fun!

If you feel comfortable doing so, upload your finished work at submit.as/jocowrites. The submission window for this prompt will open November 1, 2020, and close December 31, 2020.

From those entries, we’ll choose three adventures at random. Each of those three authors will receive one of the following: a coaching session with Philip Denver of Bard Coaching OR twenty pages of free editing plus Q&A from Authorpreneurship Coach Jessica Conoley OR a prose or poetry editing session with Polly Alice McCann of Flying Ketchup Press.

You check out a book from the Johnson County Library’s Central Branch and head out driving west onto I70. The prairie is beautiful until you notice black clouds coming up behind you. Your engine light comes on, so you take the next exit, a rest stop you don’t remember ever seeing before in which the sign reads, Night Forest 1 mile… Write up to 500 words.
Suddenly you realize you are kind of lost. It seems really dark for afternoon and you find yourself in a forest. Toto, you for sure aren’t in Kansas anymore. You are thinking of getting back in your car and ignoring the engine light when someone comes up behind you... Write up to 500 words.
Just when you think things can’t get any stranger, the rain and lightning start, the sky turns greenish yellow, and you hear strange winds whistling like a train coming. You don’t panic. You try to remember what to do from scout camp, back in the day. You are deciding between hiding under an enormous pine tree or laying down in a ditch you see up ahead, which you distinctly remember is for lightning or tornadoes (and at this point you could be in danger of both). You are leaning toward […] when you notice two things: a small cave in a little green hill to your west and a hot air balloon parked on top of it with no one inside. You immediately run to...
Write up to 500 words.
Just when you think your day is turning out rather well considering everything, you realize the jig is up. They’ve found you. Should you fight back, run, or prepare a very zesty speech to et them on your side?... Write up to 500 words.
Morning finally comes. When you wake up, you find your car safely parked at the rest stop in Kansas. There aren’t many trees, if any, around. Inside your car, you find your library books and a note that reads... Write up to 500 words.

When you’ve finished all five prompts, submit your piece here.

Read other responses here

Thanks for all the thoughtful responses you submitted to our September/October prompt!

November 2, 2020

By Katt

Normally, rest stops along I-70 are swarmed with semitrucks and their sleeping drivers. The smaller stops will at least have one or two trucks parked haphazardly on the gravel parking lot or at least one mini van filled with cross county travelers bickering about what roadside attractions are worth stopping at. The vacancy of this rest stop is not ominous, but is of no comfort either. Still, a check engine light can be pretty serious if not investigated so you pull into the parking lot and park in front of a small, newer building.

You climb out of your car and prop the hood open hoping the issue would be obvious, but aside from some stray leaves, everything looks and smells like a car that has been running should. You are just about to close the hood of your car when you hear the door to the small building get thrown open violently causing you to jump and lose your grip on the hood. The combined sound of the door hitting the exterior wall and the hood crashing down into place sends a wave of anxiety into your stomach.

You quickly turn to see who has burst forth with such gusto and are surprised to see a little girl no older than eight standing with one hand one hand in the front pocket of her muddied jeans and the other still on the door. A strange red insignia was printed on her baggy black t-shirt that was two sizes too big and rippled like waves as the wind blew. The girls eyes drift upward and a malicious smile creeps across her face as the black clouds try to block the sun. You swear you can hear the sound of muffled cracking and popping coming from the girl’s jaw as her grin grows unnaturally wide, revealing a set of sharp canines.

“Your roll on the encounter table resulted in wolves, Adventurer,” the little girl snarls at you and she lets out a howl that echoes across the empty parking lot and back into the Flint Hills behind you. In a flash, the girl leaps up onto your car preventing you from taking shelter inside. Patches of chestnut fur have starting sprouting on her arms and face. “Oh no, Adventurer,” she laughs, “I won’t let you take the easy way out of this.”

Two more kids in the same half-wolf state as the girl come tearing out of the building. Your fight or flight instincts kick in and you turn to start running away. Your parents didn’t raise you to fight children. There is a cluster of trees about 100 yards away with a small house barely visible through the privacy forest. Your best guess is that the kids must live there which means their parents can’t be too far away. Its time to channel your inner Tyreek Hill and run. You take two seconds to look behind at your pursuers and to your utter surprise all you can see is trees.

Instinctively you turn around with your fists up ready to teach these kids or pups maybe, a lesson for messing with you. Instead you find yourself face-to-face with an actual wolf-man.

“Ope, sorry to startle you like that, Adventurer,” the wolf-man says throwing his hairy hands up. You notice he is wearing a necklace with the same insignia as the one on the girl’s shirt from before. “Humans like yourself find themselves lost in here every now and then so whenever I come across one I like to point them in the right direction.”

“I need to get back to my car,” you manage to spit out while your mind still tries to process the impossible creature standing before you. “And I am being chased by...”

“I’ll stop you there, Asdventurer,” the wolf-man says with a laugh. “Those are my pups and I’ll have to apologize on their behalf. They get bored easily and don’t always make the best decisions. Doctor says they are on the chaotic side of the chart and I blame their mother.”

You look back over your shoulder into the forest behind you expecting to see the pups come crawling out from behind the trees, but the wolf-man grabs you by the shoulders before you can get a good look.

“Hey I have an idea, why don’t you come wait in the house for a bit till the wife gets back from Night Forest and then she can drive you back to your car,” he says excitedly brandishing his sharp teeth.

Not wanting to be rude, or eaten, you halfheartedly agree and start walking with the wolf-man to his house. You make a point to remain vigilant and take mental notes of your surrounds which unfortunately amount to very little other than trees and the occasional squirrel.

You and the wolf-man finally arrive at what looks to be an ordinary farm house.

“I don’t remember catching your name,” you say stopping in front of the steps leading up to the porch. The wolf-man has his hand on the door when he freezes and slowly turns to look at you with his piercing yellow eyes. A sudden shiver of fear crawls down your spine.

“Parents named me Louis, but folks around here just call me Lou,” he replies. All you can do is nod in response as the tension between you and Lou grows uncomfortable.

Somewhere behind you in the forest a twig snaps sending a flock of birds flying off and Lou shifts his gaze from you into the forest. A gentle breeze comes rolling through the clearing and Lou sniffs the air for a minute.

“Is something wrong?,” you ask with an obvious tremor in your voice.

“What is that insignia on your clothes,” Lou asks glaring at your Kansas State University shirt.

“A wildcat,” you say looking down at you shirt and pointing to the mascot.

“My pups were right, you are the enemy. You are Catfolk, and I must destroy you.”

You run.

Just when you think things can’t get any stranger, the rain and lightning start, the sky turns greenish yellow, and you hear strange winds whistling like a train coming. You don’t panic. You try to remember what to do from scout camp, back in the day. You are deciding between hiding under an enormous pine tree or laying down in a ditch you see up ahead, which you distinctly remember is for lightning or tornadoes (and at this point you could be in danger of both). You are leaning toward making a break for the pine tree in the hopes you could also climb it should Lou find you when you notice two things: a small cave in a little green hill to your west and a hot air balloon parked on top of it with no one inside. You immediately run to...

The cave to seek shelter from the coming storm. Trying to operate a hot air balloon with no experience is one thing, but to try and do it during a storm with no experience is a death wish.

The hill you have stumbled across is void of trees which leads you to believe that someone cleared the area themselves for the soul purpose of parking their hot air balloon there. You stop at the tree line to try and scope out the area, but the heavy rain fall is making impossible to see if anyone is around. A web of lightning crawls across the sky followed by an enormous clap of thunder that shakes the ground. Even if there is someone hiding in the cave, dealing with them will be better than standing out in a storm.

The cave smells like your basement back at home which is oddly comforting to you as you press you back against the wall close to the opening and slide down it so you are sitting on the ground. You keep thinking about Lou and the pups. Why did they call you Adventurer? What is an encounter table? What was the weird insignia? What about your car? Are you going to die out here? Before you mind can continue to race with these thoughts, you see what appears to be a lantern light from the back of the cave. There’s also a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring at you.

“You smell vaguely of those dogs living in the forest,” a female’s voice echoes from the back of the cave, “but I can see you are not of their pack.” The eyes and lantern start moving closer to you at the mouth of the cave. Another bright flash of lightening reveals what looks like a silver tabby cat walking towards you on two legs.

“I need to get back to my car,” you say, soon remembering that you said the same thing to Louis and look where that has gotten you.

“Consider yourself lucky, Adventurer,” the silver tabby says setting the lantern down at your feet. “It is not every day you get so lucky with random encounters.”

“Lucky?” you shout, “how can you call me lucky? My engine warning light is on, I have been chased through a forest by what I think are werewolves, and now I am in a cave during a bad storm talking to a bi-pedal cat.” The cat bursts out laughing.

“Werewolves? HA. Dogkin hounds maybe, but Werewolves? Trust me if you had run into a werewolf at your current level, you’d be dead and starting over.”

“Are you going to help me?” you ask the tabby.

“In this rain? No, I am neutral so there’s no obligation for me to help. Dogs are scared of thunder so I wouldn’t waste anymore time.”

You take the tabby’s advise and get moving. You run past the house with no incident and soon can see your car though the trees.

Lou is standing with his pups growling at you. The storm is still raging on and the young pups are visibly scared.

“Pack code is to destroy any Catfolk on sight,” Lou grows at you. “There is no place for you in Night Forest or anywhere.”

“I don’t even look like Catfolk!” you yell back at Louis. “I am human! I don’t even like cats! I have a Labrador named Chance at home!”

The pups gasp collectively and look up at their father.

“First you conceal your alliance with Catfolk and now you admit to keeping Dogkin as pets?! Adventurer, you have made two grave mistakes today.”

“The Wildcat is my school’s mascot, it has nothing to do with Catfolk, and Chance is just a regular dog,” you try to explain, “I didn’t even know Dogkin or Catfolk were real until my car broke down and I ended up in this, this mess!”

The oldest of the pups is shaking something in her fist and drops what looks like a rock onto the ground. Louis bends down to look at it.

“Looks like you failed your persuasion roll, Adventurer.” Lou lets out a howl that drowns out the sound of the rain.

“The pine tree,” you whisper to yourself. You can easily climb it to get out of reach. Dogs can’t climb well if at all. For the third time today you find yourself running away from angry dogs.

Once you reach the tree, you clumsily make your way up into its branches. Lou, despite his humanoid build is unable to climb up after you. Which is puzzling cause you know he has thumbs, but that isn’t the puzzle that needs solving right now. The pups, however are trying their hardest to make it up past the second row of branches.

A pine cone comes into view as you near the crown of the tree. A tame enough projectile that could disrupt the balance of the pups and send them back to the ground. You yank the pinecone off the tree and throw it at one of the pups hitting one on their snout causing them to lose their grip on the branches and fall.

A snicker comes from the branches of the tree adjacent to you and you look over to see the silver tabby standing among the branches with a handful of other Catfolk.

“Tree climbing was a smart move Adventurer,” the silver tabby says while silently applauding. The other Catfolk are nodding in agreement and clapping their paws like observers on a golf course.

“Will you please help me escape?” you ask as desperately as possible. “I can’t do this alone.” Discussion breaks out among the group and you hear a dice being rolled.

“Bastet be praised,” the silver tabby groans. “Alright lets go.”

The Catfolk leap off the branches towards the Dogkin giving you the perfect distraction to escape and two of the Catfolk lead you to a hideout where you can sleep for the night.

“Adventurer, you should have mentioned sooner that you were allied with the Wild Clan of the Catfolk. I saw the insignia on your garb, but did not believe you to be a true ally. Upon examining your car and seeing the insignia on it I decided to call upon my clowder to see if you would ask us to aid you. Give thanks to Bastet that we arrived when we did or you would have become a chew toy for Cerberus.”

You tuck the note inside one of your library books and start up your car. No engine light. Must have been a fluke or weather related thing. You make a note to call your dad and ask his opinion on it when you get back to your apartment in Manhattan.

The drive is uneventful and you start to forget about the wild experience you had at the rest stop off the highway. The Flint Hills blur by and are soon replaced by farmers fields and barns used by the University’s Agricultural department. You park in an empty spot at your apartment complex and quickly carry your things and library books up to your home.

Your roommates are in the kitchen making brunch when you come through the door. They are happy to see you and ready to start your apartment’s traditional table top gaming weekend.

“Did you get the books I asked you to pick up while you were at the library,” one of your roommates asks as you throw your overnight bag into your room. “We can manage if you didn’t, but it would be helpful for all the first time players if we have all the manuals on hand.”

“Yeah I got all of them,” you reply looking down at the stack of books in your hands. You look down at the first book’s cover and your jaw drops. There on the cover is the same red insignia that the Dogkin had been wearing. It is the dragon ampersands from the Dungeons and Dragons manuals. Your experience suddenly comes rushing back to you and and you turn to look at your roommates in the kitchen.

Standing over the stove flipping pancakes is a person you have never seen before.

“Oh before we get started,” one of your roommates says, “this is my cousin Louis, he’s going to DM for us!”

You drop the books as Louis turns and looks at you with a smile.

“Hello Adventurer…”