The instructions are as follows (and long, so if you don’t care about how I got the plot, just scroll). Word limit is 500.
Pick four numbers, each between 1 and 10.
Write them down so you remember.
The first number will be for your character, the second your setting, the third the time and the fourth will be the situation.
Then take the four elements and combine them into a short story.
All four you picked MUST be your main elements, but you can add in other characters, settings, times and situations.
1. A new mother
2. An actress
3. A recent high school graduate
4. A waitress
5. An alien
6. A homeless man
7. An elderly woman
8. A freshman in high school
9. A college student
10. A musician
1. The woods
2. A wedding reception
3. A party
4. A restaurant
5. A mall
6. A park
7. A beach
8. A lake
9. A baseball game
10. A seminar
2. During a thunderstorm
3. The morning after prom
6. Midnight or around midnight
8. In the middle of a fire
9. In the middle of a snowstorm
10. The afternoon
1. A death
2. Secret needs to be told
3. Someone has or will hurt someone
4. A crime has occured or is about to
5. Someone has lost/found something
6. Someone is falling in love
7. Reminiscing on how things change
8. There has been a family emergency
9. Something embarrassing happened
10. Someone has just gone to the doctor.
My numbers: 5832
Alien; A Lake; The morning after Prom; A secret needs to be told
I only just re-read that, and realised that I used the ocean instead. A body of water is a body of water…Just go with it.
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The pre-dawn air was chilly, so I draped the jacket of my tux over her shoulders. She lay with her head on my chest, bare legs prickled with goose bumps. Females here dressed so inadequately for the temperature. It was strangely alluring, like so much about her.
Like the way she always smelled of baked goods. She couldn’t cook, and yet, even now, skin salty from the ocean spray, her hair still smelled like cinnamon and vanilla.
“Hey,” I whispered, shaking her shoulder, “The sun is rising.”
She groaned as she awoke, pushing herself upright on the dune and smiling down at me, her cinnamon hair hanging down in front of her eyes. She shivered and pulled my jacket tighter around her shoulders before rejoining me.
We watched as the first glimmer of light tinged the clouds along the horizon, as the first sliver of beaming golden light rose up out of the water, scattering sparks out across the choppy waves. I wondered if the sun rise had always been so beautiful, or if it was seeing it through human eyes, and that made it so.
She smiled at me and said, “I had the best time last night. I mean, prom was like, wow, but being out here with you was so…” she held her arms out wide, “huge. It was amazing. Is amazing.”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” I stumbled over my words in my rush to get it off my chest. “I’m not who you think I am.”
I could see her unease growing as she sat upright, but couldn’t think of how else to say it.
“I’m not human.”
The story poured out of me, every detail. How I was chosen to adopt a temporary earth-form, in order to study the people from here, where I was from, and how I really, truly did care for her. She was shocked and a little bit frightened, but she told me she still loved me.
I told her about how I was meant to find a suitable mate and reproduce. She froze. I clutched her hands in mine.
“I figure that after all we did last night, I’m definitely pregnant. My mission is complete and I have to leave. I wish you could come with me, but I’ll take good care of our baby. They’ll be transporting me shortly.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I said this, the human emotion overwhelming. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones kicking in already.
“You’re a boy.”
I nodded. Humans sometimes said very non sequitor things.
She rolled her eyes and spoke slowly. “Women get pregnant. Men get women pregnant, but women carry the baby. You’re a space-travelling race who can impersonate other species, and you didn’t bother to check in on which half of us got pregnant?!”
As understanding dawned, I felt a tingle in my skin. The horror of it all struck me right about the same time as my feet struck the deck of the ship.