Mission Impossible

The other day
I asked ten strangers
To write my life story –
Quite a hard sell
It even involved bribery
And something that would
Surely cause your eyes to swell

I was rejected each time
Since my story was too thin
Well I wish I would have lied
And told them I’d been to Berlin (which I haven’t, but might want to go to someday).


Ghostwriter | Strangers The Prompt

I love that an alternative to the Daily Prompt has been started, giving us a second option to write something more suited for our tastes if the first option just isn’t cutting it. I think of it as a revolt, a coup, much like the actual protest group in New York that this new prompt is referring to. Combining both prompts into one post is great and providing links to both prompt “grids” gets your post on two different sites for more viewership opportunities.

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Alone in a Crowded Room

The room of strangers are staring at me with piercing eyes. 4 minutes. 4 minutes. How to tell my life story in 4 minutes…I take a deep breath and begin…

I come from a family that is on the lower end of middle class. We aren’t privileged, don’t have the nicest stuff in the world, don’t buy the premier brand of items everyday or the most expensive things, but get by everyday with what we have, what really matters inside: love. Our house is not something anyone would ooh and ahh at. It’s a modest looking mobile home in a sea of mobile homes. I, for one, want to move up in the world but there seems to be a force stopping me from doing so. It seems every time I want to advance myself, but a laughing demon holds me back, saying “What? You? What makes you deserve to achieve success and get out of the mediocrity that is your life? You’re supposed to stay there and go the path the rest of us losers have gone”.

I am smart but not genius, not The Big Bang Theory smart. I know how to do things, how to fix computers to a degree, how to write, how to cook simple meals. I don’t try to be anyone else. Just because someone is at the top of their field and is enjoying renowned and celebrity status doesn’t make me want to stop what I have been doing best and go where the grass collects the most water.

Time.

Boy, did I ever feel more alone in this room full of people. Did they even care about what I said? The picture below relays how I was feeling:


In Response to the Daily Prompt: Flash Talk