When she ran...

Today’s post is based on a writing prompt I shared in a previous Daily Drafts & Dialogues post. Keep reading to see what I wrote, and to access more writing prompts.

What I wrote below is based on the following writing prompt: Complete this sentence for today’s writing prompt: “When she ran...” What comes next? Try to write a few paragraphs, if not more. And try to be as creative as possible by writing about something that might be unexpected or unusual in such a scenario.

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When she ran for office, she had no idea that people from her past would start resurfacing like she was playing a game of Whack-a-mole. One after the other after the other, popping up and smiling at her and taunting her, just begging to be whacked (figuratively, of course). 

No matter what she said or did, the game wouldn't seem to stop either. There was no end in sight. She was already exhausted. Resentment was truly tiring. And she had only been on the school board for one week.

That morning had been particularly forcibly nostalgic. 

She had received three messages from women who had been on her high school's cheerleading squad, although she had never been on the squad herself. No, she had played the clarinet in the school's band instead. Which meant she had been ignored by the squad for, well … until they sent those messages that morning asking for newer athletic equipment for their boys who were now students. They were still a united front, still squealing happily when they wanted something, which was impressively consistent with her memories. 

Then there had been messages from a preacher's secretary from the church she attended every Sunday as a child, reminding her about an upcoming bake sale she had to attend, which was only loosely related to a school outing. And wasn't really an invitation, or an inquiry or suggestion, but a “see you there.”

Then an attorney who was planning to sue one of the two principals in town (based on something that one of the cheerleader's sons had done) had stopped by as she was pouring her first cup of coffee. Which was awkward because she was still in her bathrobe and couldn't stop thinking about the time they had gone skinny dipping in the lake behind her childhood home the summer before their senior year. He was still scrawny and awkward and ornery. But at least his manners had improved, well … aside from the fact that he showed up at her house unannounced before eight in the morning.  

Then when she dropped her daughter off at school, the flood of loosely familiar faces saying, “Hey remember me?” with smiles on their faces streamed by one after the other. Only a few asked for favors or had a complaint. But it was all still enough to overwhelm her with feelings of rage. Where had they been when she had needed favors or had a complaint back then? 

Back at home later that morning she shut the world out and lay on the cool tile of the kitchen with all the blinds drawn. She had to get a grip. She couldn't forget why she came back to this God-forsaken town, and what it is she planned to do next …

[Write what happens next and share what you come up with in a subscriber chat thread below.] 

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© All Rights Reserved by K.E. Creighton and Creighton’s Compositions LLC. The above work is a piece of fiction. While, as in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on experience, all names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Today’s Writing Prompt