I have two books that have writing prompts that give you ideas to write about. One gives you a boost into a subject and some words you must put into your story. The other book just asks random questions about yourself or what if questions. I haven’t really worked in the last one but the first book I have written some stories. The thing is they don’t give you enough space to write. So I began to pen a story and never finish due to space and my defiance of never really finishing a story. I have an issue with finishing my stories. I began a book or a short story with these books as prompts but never finish. My books become dead in the water. I am trying to at least write some of these stories here in this site to inspire me to write and finish in hopes that someone might get some amusement or just for my own sanity of getting some of these stories down somewhere. I have written one of the stories down earlier. A Family History Uncovered. So no farther ado here is one of my prompt stories that I never finished.
A Strange Request at a Piano Bar
It was a quarter past eight during the biggest Mardi Gras downtown in New Orleans. The crowd was madding and the people were packed in from all over for the big celebration. They were all acting juvenile with their antics of flashing skin, beads, and it made it all awkward for George Blackstock. He was towered over most of the celebrators and pushed his glasses back on his nose. He came in for business and thought it would be fun to see the carnival. He had light brown hair and a wary eye. He was just divorced last year and wasn’t quite over that fact. The controversy was that he wasn’t spontaneous enough, not brave enough, his ex-wife told him he was too shy and she wanted a man that was more. George never got that idea out of his head. How can he be more? George thought coming out tonight during Mardi Gras was going to show the world that he was fun and impetuous. But he felt alone and lost instead amiss in the crowds. He spied a piano bar with a gilded cast-iron balcony that was green from the oxidation on its front windows. Music was pouring out into the sidewalk. It drew him like a moth into the flame. He walked up to the bar and the barkeep offered him a beer. George just sat there staring at his drink. A woman with a mask that had a butterfly painted on it came up next to him and ordered an apple martini. She was blonde and curvy. She gave him a wink and spoke with a Southern drawl.
“Aren’t you sweet as sassafras, darling? Do you mind if I give you swirl on the dance floor with this ol’ girl?” She smiled and batted her long lashes. George looked like he was a deer in front of headlights in the middle of a highway. He thought, this is my chance to be bold, be spontaneous. He turned so fast to accept the offer but turned his ankle instead. He fell off the stool and into the floor. The lady laughed but knelt down to help him up.
….and that is all I have in my little book. I will try to finish this short story.