Jo Raskoph

[Jo Raskoph]

I love the idea of the Whakspurt Remedy - it's definitely something I need! I'll try to keep this thread alive and to join the weekly exercises (I have a terrible record, but I'll try).

 

So, for prompt #1 "Rewrite a pre-written scene from the perspective of a minor character", the scene from Season of Love right before Markus and Vera kiss for the first time, from one of Markus' friends' point of view. (225 words)

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There's a crashing sound, glasses clinking, something spills. Lukas shouts "Whatch out!" into my ear, way too loudly; the idiot is drunk.

"This isn't. One of your. Soccer. Games!," I shout back. This shuts everyone up and I have six pairs of eyes on me.

The table is packed and it takes a while to get my legs between two people, over the bench, and under the table. Finally sitting down, I reach for the the tray I set down on the table. There's only one pint left.

"Oi! Where'd the booze go?" I turn left to give Markus a reproachful look, and find myself nose to nose with the weird girl.

There's nothing wrong with her appearance, the weird is that she's here with Markus. Markus Wagner, who has been scaring single women off for months now. Man's been a nightmare since Jessi left him.

"You mean, after you set down the tray half over the ashtray?", the weird girl asks. Everyone erupts into laughter.

I securely hold my pint against my chest with both hands. "Are you telling me this is the only survivor?", I make puppy eyes at her and am rewarded by another round of laughter.

Weird girl winks at me. "I'm sorry for your loss".

This time, Markus' laugh is loudest of all. She's not half bad, this weird girl. 

 

[Jo Raskoph]

For prompt #2: "Everything is fine!" Everything was not fine.

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"Everything is fine!", George shouted as he slammed the bathroom door shut behind himself.

"Sure, if you say so", Angelina yelled back, her voice on the knife edge between sugar-sweet and banshee. The takeaway box she'd been holding produced a satisfying "plop!" as it connected with the bathroom door. 

It was twelve minutes past nine. Seven minutes since she'd peed on a stick, and two minutes since she'd told George they were expecting a baby.

Everything was not fine.

I've been sat in front of this snippet for an hour now and my mind is just blank. I'll be back with something else, this scene just didn't cooperate. (In case there was any doubt I'm in need of the Nargle Remedy, this should be proof enough.)

[Jo Raskoph]

Prompt #3 "Write a piece with descriptions that use touch & smell but no other sense"  produced a fair bit of plot for my new OF short-story about a society of survivors of a nuclear apocalypse living in an underground bunker. I'll post a snippet here, but it hardly adheres to the prompt, I'll have to do that one again.

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"Try again now!", Relli shouts cheerfully, jumping off the step ladder as if this is not the fifth time she’s climbed up to fiddle with the wires of the control panel.

Instead of starting down the corridor, El doesn’t move and lifts his eyebrows at her.

El feels beads of sweat on his forehead which makes it painfully obvious that Relli has still got her woolen hat on. He is fairly sure that even though there are almost two heads of height difference between them, the temperature can’t be that different for the smaller student.

His legs are throbbing and feel far too heavy to move, he really doesn't want to walk back all the way to the locked doorway only to find it still locked. "Are you sure?"

Relli brushes her palms off on her trousers and his questioning look off with a shrug. "Won't know if you don't try it …", she goes on to sorting her tools neatly into her absurd leather tool box. It's a relict they discovered in the ancient bunker town, a narrow box that smells of dust with the two sides locked together by a matalic clasp. The museum wasn't interested in it, so Relli claimed it for herself.

And now they are out here again, trying to open a door that has been locked for decades, hoping to discover something more interesting than a tool box. The ancient town doesn't even have working ventilation and he swears there are little rodents hiding in the shadows. El hates field trips.

 

[Jo Raskoph]

Another Saturday and I'm back for a new writing prompt, namely prompt #4: Write a drabble that focuses on the feeling of jealousy. 
So this just screams for the love triangle from Season of Love and will be my first time writing from Nina's point of view. Wish me luck.

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Nina's legs feel heavier with each step she takes up the stairs to their flat. She's been standing up all day at the shop—to feel so worn out now, just meters away from finally sitting down, doesn't seem right. There's probably a lesson to be learned in there, but she's too exhausted to process it. All she wants is to fall onto the sofa, ideally with her head in Vera's lap, and not move for the next hour.

They might watch Netflix or maybe Vera will complain to her about Uni and Nina could be supportive in a quiet, just-be-there kind of way. The most important part is that she'll be lying down, nice and warm and at home and not have to go back to the shop tomorrow. Maybe they'll even splurge and order in instead of cooking—Pizza sounds lovely. It's been just that kind of day.

Finally she's at the top, the door swings open. The flat greets her dark, and obviously empty.

Of course, she realises with sudden clarity, It's Saturday and that means Vera has gone off to Dorf. She's probably already done visiting with her parents and having a date with Markus right now.

Nina lets her bag fall to the floor. She can still lie down, still watch Netflix, still order in if she wants to—so why does it feel like her night has just been spoiled by this guy she doesn't even know?

243 words

I didn't think to mention it earlier, but: I'm always grateful for feedback!

[Jo Raskoph]

And I'm back with prompt #5 (Which makes me 50 % behind schedule, or 50 % on task, depending on your point of view.): "Write a quick drabble of no more than 250 words using the following scenario: Your character meets someone who can see into the future."

So this set in my nuclear apocalypse OF universe, the protagonist is Scott, who lives a few decades later than our current time. There's the threat of a nuclear war and lives in a government savety bunker, because he's working as an intern to some high-ranked diplomat. His family lives outside and he is worried. He meets Jay, who traveled back in time about 300 years from the society who survived the nuclear apocalypse in the bunkers. So she's not looking into her future, strictly speaking …

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Navigating the maze of hallways in the bunkers had become second nature to Scott and he found himself reading paperwork while walking more often these days; it made his job easier. The file he was reading was a transcipt of negotiations with the United Koreans' secretary of defense. Something was off about their demands. It wouldn't feel right to summarise the file without a comment.

Scott checked the date on the top right of the file while he rounded a corner and walked into someone at the same time as he figured it out. He'd read these exact demands in other, years-old transcirpts! "They're playing games!", he excitedly declared to the woman, who looked back at him with big round eyes, her mouth forming a silent O. 

She'd probably expected him to say something else—"Sorry for running you over", most likely. He should apologise to her. "Sorry, uh, I'm sorry, I was …", he stuttered, scrambling for the  politeness that was part of his job description, "… preocupied. Will the Koreans ever stop playing games?"

Reverting to what amounted to small talk in the bunkers, he hoped to smooth the situation over, but instead of a sympathetic nod in agreement and a gesture of "what can you do?", the woman frowned as if giving his question real thought.

"You know", she spoke very carefully in a strange accent he'd never heard before, "I don't think you should be worried about the Koreans—they will not be the first to strike."