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I decided to organize a weekly creative writing exercise in the office to sharpen the skills of the writing pool. Everyone takes a turn inventing an exercise or a prompt.

The only general rule we've been using is that it should be doable in an hour or so. We've also tried to keep things fun.

Please feel free to share your own exercise efforts by leaving a comment. You can do that at the end of each exercise by clicking on 'Share your own effort'. Enjoy!

Writing Exercises Quick Links
Write an Obama Speech
Wordlplay, Anagram as Inspiration
Strictly Dialogue
Character Sketch
An Article of Clothing
The Truth
Press Release
Creative Description
Paired Fiction Writing
Connecting Ideas
Writing in Persona
Point of View
Interior Monologue
Body Language
Alternate Ending
Book Cover
Horror Writing
Dialogue 3
Dialogue 2
Nanofiction Writing
Writing Without Adjectives
Love Letters
Fictional Monologue
TV Show Opening Monologue
Short Story, Object as Narrator
Speech Writing
Tongue Twister
Suspense and Emotion
Describe and Compose
Poetic Confession
Application letter
Essays of Absurdities
Dialogue with Self
Imaginative Writing
Short Story from Cartoon
Five Random Words
Letter of Complaint

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Exercise 42 - The Truth

A drunk sits next to you in a bar, thinks you are his or her close friend and starts confessing “the truth.”  Write about what “the truth” is in at least 200 words. 


Below is my effort.



The truth


Stepping into the bar, my eyes take a moment to adjust to the dimmed lights.  The familiar smell of nicotine greets me while I scan for a good spot.  Someone was sitting on my favorite stool at the far end of the room – an executive like me, judging from his clothes –hunched over his drink.  Too bad, I particularly liked sitting at the end where no one bothers you.


Suddenly, he swings around and walks away from the bar.  He walks right past me and exits through the front door momentarily flooding the room with an orange glow from the late afternoon sun.


“Mac, I’ll have one San Mig Light,” I declare while walking to the just vacated stool. 


A quick hiss and a pop later, the bottle lands with typical efficiency in front of me.  “You want a mug?”


I flip my hand up slightly to decline.  Mac knows I enjoyed my beer without the conversation and smartly leaves me to attend to the other patrons.  There aren’t many at this time. 


I scanned the room and count maybe five or so people all nursing lonely drinks.  Probably all avoiding the rush hour just like me with a drink or two before heading off for home. 


Then she emerges from behind the corner that led to the toilets.  You had to notice her because not many girls come in here, but also because she was a real looker.  As she strode across the floor, you couldn’t help but notice how stunning she looked. 


She had wavy cropped hair that perfectly framed her angelic face.  Her short but brisk strides bring her to my side where she sits down.  I feel slightly panicked at my unbelievable luck that she chose to sit beside me.  Her eyes kept wandering across the room like she was unsure of herself.  A perfectly manicured hand rests near mine.  Her skin is flawless even in the dimly lit bar.  She leans close towards me making me feel awkward at the invasion of my supposed solitude.


“I thought you’d left already, sir.”


“Sorry?”  I manage to mutter.


“Listen, sir, I know this is awkward, you being my boss and everything but I didn’t mean for this to happen.  I didn’t plan any of this.”


She obviously thought I was the executive who was sitting here earlier.  Looking at her admirable profile, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I wasn’t him.  Not yet at least.


“I want to be with you.  That’s all I want.  Even if you can’t be all mine.  I think – I think – ”


“Uhhm, miss, sorry but –“


She looks at me and stares.  Her doe eyes are deep and magnetic.  Yet they betray nothing.  “You’re not my boss –”


“Yes, I think you mean the guy who left a while ago”


“But you’re cute too.”  A long uneasy pause as we gaze into each other’s eyes.  “Where is he?”


“Uhm, he went that way,” I point the door behind me with my thumb while keeping my gaze fixed.


She stands up, and opens her purse and fishes out a calling card.  “If you find him, tell him I left already.”  She slides the card on the table with a finger, then walks away.


I am left frozen, not knowing what to say. 

She turns around to look at me one last time.  “Call me,” the hints of a smile breaking on her face.

Posted at 06:34 pm by bisoy


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