The writing exercise for today is one of my favorites, three words and fifteen minutes. The words are chosen at random, usually by a second person, and they have to all be worked into the story organically.
Clean, Frosting, Baby
As always, you are invited to leave your results in the comments section. I look forward to reading it!
The wind howled through the gaps in the walls and through the thin barrier of Max’s clothes. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, drawing in on herself to hopefully conserve body heat. It didn’t help much, and she shivered.
“Not much in here,” Ringo called from the kitchen. “A half-eaten jar of frosting, and some stale crackers covered with mouse droppings.”
Max looked around the living room. She’d forgotten she was supposed to search for supplies. Not that there was anything to look for. This place was abandoned, just like every other house they’d stopped at in this town.
There was a lumpy, lopsided sofa in the corner, and pages from a faded newspaper blew across the floor. On the wall beneath the stairs, there was a door. She crossed the room to check it. Ringo was doing her part, searching the kitchen, Max needed to do hers.
As predicted, the door opened to reveal a small storage room. Unlike the living room, the storage room was packed. There were stacks of boxes. Some were labeled food, others ammo. There was even a case market toiletries. “Ringo!”
Something crashed to the floor in the kitchen, followed by the rapid, heavy fall of Ringo’s boots on the floorboards. “Max? What’s wrong?”
Max pulled out the box labeled toiletries first. She’d been hungry for so long, she forgot what it felt like not to be. Food could wait a few more minutes. First, she had to see what was in this box. She pulled out a package a babywipes.
“Yes!” Thank god. She’d get to be clean again. Or at least, cleaner than she had been in a long time. “Ringo, baby, look.”
Ringo drew up short, and Max glanced up at her. Ringo’s eyes were wider than she’d ever seen as she pulled out the first box labeled food.
