Writing Day

Well, I had an atypical writing day today. Once I got to the coffee shop, I couldn’t decide which story to work on – basically, none of them were calling to me. Instead of wasting the time, I pulled up a writing prompt on my phone and decided to craft an alphabet story.

Here are the clues it gave me:

  • Place: Aboard a Rollercoaster
  • Character: A street performer
  • Object: A bottle of water
  • Smell: Autumn Leaves

As you may know, these are one of my favorite types of stories – fun and easy to finish. I hope you enjoy this one…

Drop of Death

Kicking and screaming, I dragged my niece on the Drop of Death rollercoaster.

Little did she know, my hands shook from fear, not excitement.

Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea, I thought as I wedged my water bottle between my body and the arm of the seat.

Nearly all the cars were filled; in front of us the two street performers shouted with glee.

Onward, upward we crept until we slowed at the very tippy top.

Plunging down the first drop, I heard her screams above my own.

Quietly murmuring a prayer, I reached for her hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

Relief poured from my body as we survived the first drop and began another, shorter climb.

Soon my stomach reached my throat; I was mistaken – this drop was just as bad as the first one.

Throwing their hands in the air, the street performs squealed with delight as we began our descent.

Uneasy and gripping the lap bar for dear life, I shot a glance at my niece.

Very jerkily she met my gaze, excitement dancing in her bright blue eyes.

We twisted and careened around several sharp turns on a level with the tree tops.

X-rays would be required when we finished; my neck would never be the same.

Youngsters, I grinned, they feel no pain and overcome their fears quickly.

Zipping around another curve, I caught sight of the flume and a floating log filled with soaked children.

At last we righted ourselves and started up the final climb of the ride.

Butterflies no longer occupied my stomach.

Confidence brimmed in me – we were almost done, and I was unscathed.

Delighting in the last little rollers, I threw my hands in the air and cheered right along with the fearless wonder next to me.

Even as my breath whooshed from my lungs, I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a late September Saturday.

For us the ride was just about over as we crawled into the station.

Getting out of the car, my legs shook with leftover adrenaline.

How old did I feel when my niece bounded on the platform and demanded we go again?

Inhaling deeply, I picked up the scent of fall leaves over the grease of the car.

Jubilant, my niece’s enthusiasm was contagious, and I guided her back to the start of the ride.

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