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#31 The Ordinary

The very last line of the NBC sitcom The Office is spoken by former receptionist Pam Beasley. She says: "There’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things. Isn’t that kind of the point?"

 

This week's writing prompts embrace that sentiment, and challenge you to write stories that take ordinary, everyday tasks and turn them into meaningful pieces of short fiction.

🥇 Winner

The Memory Garden

Winner of Weekly Contest #31 🏆

In sixteen years, she will leave the garden. She will tell the buyers of the house how to tend each patch and plant, carefully, and they’ll do it for a while and then the garden will fall apart, because they have other concerns. The soil remembers, though. The soil always remembers. In eleven years, her firstborn child will pick unripe blueberries in mid-spring, try to taste them and recoil from the sour. She will laugh and take pictures on whatever the equivalent of a phone camera is in ten years. She’ll post them on whatever the equivalent...

105 likes 71 comments 71
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⭐️ Shortlisted

The Practice of Half Memories

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #31 ⭐️

She puts a pot on the stove and watches as the flames burn their orange and blue flames through it. She has a half-empty cup of tea beside the kitchen table. Tea, already cold and tasteless as it struggles being caged in the unwashed cup. She puts it in her lips again and lets the brown liquid slip into her sore throat. The flames keep flaring up as the empty pot sits calmly on it. She stares at the smoke already rising up from the pot. In her mind, she tells herself she isn't ready to do this yet and then she pours water into it and settles...

92 likes 7 comments 7
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The Laundry Room

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #31 ⭐️

Your mother is in there - in the laundry room - washing your clothes right now. She’s sorting out the darks from the lights, and she’s making neat piles on the floor of your dirty clothes. Let’s face it - they’re more than dirty, right? That dress you wore to the party you weren’t supposed to go to has a cum stain right on the front. Those jeans, those fucking jeans, barely fit you anymore, but you wear them anyway because they make Elijah stare a hole straight through your ass. But you don’t like Elijah, you like attention, and there’s a di...

37 likes 11 comments 11
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A PARTNERSHIP WITHIN THE GARDEN

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #31 ⭐️

A modest little house stands alone, surrounded by a disorderly sea of green. Not that its garden is completely unkempt, but it is hardly a neatly regimented English garden, nor is it a beautifully manicured Mediterranean oasis. It is chaotic, colourful and cheerful. Behind the house, small square paving stones lead upwards past a pergola which leans over to one side under the weight of a well-established wisteria and is framed by clusters of tall papyrus stems. Beyond, there are smaller randomly-placed bushes and plants. Frankly, it is rathe...

27 likes 24 comments 24
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Adelaide

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #31 ⭐️

The blouse in my hands is a fresh white. It’s simple, plain but for the flowers embroidered on the cuffs. It was strange to find it again, this shadow of my youth; it doesn’t fit me any more, which is hardly a surprise, but I can’t quite bring myself to throw it away. I remember buying it, in town with Adelaide. She said it was one of the most beautiful shirts she’d ever seen as I stood, side-on, before the changing room mirror. “If you like it so much, why don’t you buy it?” “I don’t like it on me,” she said, “I like it on you.” I liked it...

12 likes 2 comments 2
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Super Market

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #31 ⭐️

Chicken. That was the reason I’d had to stop. It seemed that there was always an item or two missing from the inventory we’d gathered from the good old Handi-Mart that weekend, and now, Thursday night after work, I thought I’d better pick up the chicken. To that list, I’d added shampoo, milk, cornmeal and two packages of gummy bears, a special request from the kids. The list always grew when we had one item to pick up. Joe’s Market is a medium-sized store, an anachronism today, in the days when most people in the neighborhood bought online a...

7 likes 1 comment 1
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The Errand

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #31 ⭐️

It takes all of her strength and might to push the obstinate door open wide enough to slip out of the faded, dingy apartment building. The heavy glass immediately thunks closed behind her, sealing the building’s interior and occupants away from the outside world. This had once been a grand entrance with a canopy and a doorman. Now the canopy is only rusting iron ribs and the doorman has been gone for decades. The glass window next to the door appears to be decoratively etched. Upon closer inspection though, it is a spiderweb of cracks radiat...

7 likes 2 comments 2
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This week's prompts

Write a short story about someone doing laundry.

– 92 stories

Write a short story about someone tending to their garden.

– 76 stories

Write a short story about someone cooking dinner.

– 54 stories

Write a short story about someone going to the corner store to buy an everyday item.

– 64 stories

Write a short story about someone heading home from work.

– 81 stories

Stories

The Memory Garden

Winner of Weekly Contest #31 🏆

In sixteen years, she will leave the garden. She will tell the buyers of the house how to tend each patch and plant, carefully, and they’ll do it for a while and then the garden will fall apart, because they have other concerns. The soil remembers, though. The soil always remembers. In eleven years, her firstborn child will pick unripe blueberries in mid-spring, try to taste them and recoil from the sour. She will laugh and take pictures on whatever the equivalent of a phone camera is in ten years. She’ll post them on whatever the equivalent...

105 likes 71 comments 71
Read story

The Practice of Half Memories

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #31 ⭐️

She puts a pot on the stove and watches as the flames burn their orange and blue flames through it. She has a half-empty cup of tea beside the kitchen table. Tea, already cold and tasteless as it struggles being caged in the unwashed cup. She puts it in her lips again and lets the brown liquid slip into her sore throat. The flames keep flaring up as the empty pot sits calmly on it. She stares at the smoke already rising up from the pot. In her mind, she tells herself she isn't ready to do this yet and then she pours water into it and settles...

92 likes 7 comments 7
Read story

Choose your adventure

Weekly Contest #31

"Hey buddy, got a light?" :( "Shut up and let's do business!" :) "Sorry, I don't smoke." :) Just as he turned to walk away the other man said "Yeah, this shit isn't good for me. I should quit." "It's tough! Boy, I remember when I quit seven years ago." He made a gesture with his hand, slapping the air in a downward motion. "Well, good night." "Hang on man. You live in 5C right?" "Um, yeah…" "I'm in 9C, next to the Dickissers." "Oh really? Sorry I didn't recognize you. Yeah, I know Mr. Dickisser. Such a nice guy." "He is, and so is his whol...

45 likes 16 comments 16
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Use Cold Water

Weekly Contest #31

When my sister left, I thought my first text to her would be something sweet. Something like I miss you or the neighbors ask how you’re doing. Or at least something coherent like I hope classes are going well. I didn’t really think quick hwo do u get bloodstains out f laundry would be my dashed-off missive not twelve hours after we said goodbye. But that’s what I send, half-blinded by senseless tears I don’t want to shed, leaning over the side of my bed as my stomach churns. Wish someone else was here. I didn’t expect to be alone. I always t...

38 likes 5 comments 5
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The Laundry Room

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #31 ⭐️

Your mother is in there - in the laundry room - washing your clothes right now. She’s sorting out the darks from the lights, and she’s making neat piles on the floor of your dirty clothes. Let’s face it - they’re more than dirty, right? That dress you wore to the party you weren’t supposed to go to has a cum stain right on the front. Those jeans, those fucking jeans, barely fit you anymore, but you wear them anyway because they make Elijah stare a hole straight through your ass. But you don’t like Elijah, you like attention, and there’s a di...

37 likes 11 comments 11
Read story

I, Chocolate

Weekly Contest #31

I was neatly packaged and sent to this hideous supermarket in a very non-public atmosphere. I sat in the second row of the first column in the chocolate aisle. I was happy that I wasn’t placed in the back, along with the unfortunate few others, which was probably covered in cobwebs. Perhaps the deadly ants might even find a chance to creep through the neat packet we were covered in. The human girl who worked here was very clumsy. Everyone was talking about how she dropped Felix and Atticus. They must be broken. They will disappoint their ma...

31 likes 22 comments 22
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Common Part of Life

Weekly Contest #31

Nothing really seems to change when the days go on, one by one. But those days turn to weeks, then months, then years. That’s when the change comes out and slaps you right in the face. Eight months Convenience store addiction: Baby Bites. The teeth were coming in. Mother’s milk was no longer the sole substance; a suckling mouth was craving. The first taste of apples, bananas, strawberries and squash were branded as healthy baby food, located in the expensive baby aisle at the superstore. But the healthy, expensive food was never good enou...

27 likes 4 comments 4
Read story

A PARTNERSHIP WITHIN THE GARDEN

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #31 ⭐️

A modest little house stands alone, surrounded by a disorderly sea of green. Not that its garden is completely unkempt, but it is hardly a neatly regimented English garden, nor is it a beautifully manicured Mediterranean oasis. It is chaotic, colourful and cheerful. Behind the house, small square paving stones lead upwards past a pergola which leans over to one side under the weight of a well-established wisteria and is framed by clusters of tall papyrus stems. Beyond, there are smaller randomly-placed bushes and plants. Frankly, it is rathe...

27 likes 24 comments 24
Read story

All she needs is a bowl of steamed potatoes

Weekly Contest #31

Life is meant to be beautiful. But at times, Life is ugly and sad. You, me, them and us can either make life beautiful or ugly. I’m not sure am ready for this. The fact that Aunt May is around on my first try makes me anxious. I have a few memories of how my mother did this ever since I was a nipper. But then, Life teaches us that those vague memories must be assembled if one is to survive perilous times. Unprepared for what awaits, I conjecture that it won't be an easy task to cook dinner for me and Aunt May. Aunt May stands hunched in fro...

26 likes 5 comments 5
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Just another dinner on Earth

Weekly Contest #31

In the year 3015, Arlen is living with his mother in Acushnet, Massachusetts and helps run their rose farm/nursery: Birkland’s farm. They live in the secluded part of Acushnet, in the town of Dartmouth in a small cabin near the farm. Arlen’s father left them when he was a newborn. Arlen’s mother, Aliah Birks, has depression, having still not gotten over her husband. It is dinner time, and Arlen is helping prepare lentil soup with his mother. It is about ten minutes past six o’clock. And yet, as I dice carrots with ease and try her unpalatab...

20 likes 2 comments 2
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Roast Beef and Antifreeze

Weekly Contest #31

I don’t even like roast - I feel the need to stress that. I hate it, actually. I hate the way it smells. I hate the way the meat tastes after cooking in its own juices for hours. I hate the vegetables - the carrots get soggy and the potatoes turn into mush. I hate that it takes all day to cook a good roast. I hate the way people turn a roast into a week-long meal, using the leftovers for everything from soup to sandwiches, knowing that it tastes like shit after the first day it’s cooked. I hate that it was my husband’s favorite meal, but he ...

19 likes 5 comments 5
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Up Ahead

Weekly Contest #31

Do you believe this? Traffic creeping along at two miles an hour. It’s thirty minutes from my exit at sixty-five miles an hour as is, and all five lanes are blocked. Are we seriously being rerouted to Highway 675? I’ve never been this way on 675. And, I’m low on gas. Something told me to get gas earlier in the week. Now with every minute passing⎯and still moving at two miles an hour⎯the dashboard gas meter is warning me. Yes...I see you. I’m in a situation here if you haven’t noticed. I shouldn’t complain there could be a fatality up ahead....

17 likes 3 comments 3
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Where to Find Baking Soda at 2 AM

Weekly Contest #31

The mattress itself is stained, but I suppose I’ll deal with that later. Taking care only to touch the dry parts of the sheet, I wrestle it and the pillowcases into a laundry basket and carefully pick my way out of the room—the police said it was okay to move stuff around now, they’ve got what they needed, but I still feel like I shouldn’t disturb anything. Except the sheets, I guess. The hallways are quiet. The usual parties that rock our dorm ended abruptly when the cops arrived, but by now they would’ve ended anyway. Everyone retreated ba...

17 likes 2 comments 2
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The Beauty In The Little Things

Weekly Contest #31

Janessa hated the outdoors. She hated the smells, the sounds, and the sights. But she never had to worry about working outside in the garden, because they had a landscaper. She never had to do any work. But that was before her parents died. Janessa was to be thrown into a foster home like she wasn’t important. She had all of her things packed, and she was ready to move into her new home. Her caseworker, Amelia, brought her to the door of a quaint little cottage. It was nothing compared to her mansion, but it would have to do. Amelia rang the...

17 likes 6 comments 6
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Taking Orders

Weekly Contest #31

My first cup of the day is ready. It’s a decaf skinny vanilla latte drowning in milk with a dusting of cinnamon. I glance at the door while trying to create a mocha-colored heart against the backdrop of milky foam. She smiles at my artistic attempts. Every morning at 5:45, she strolls into the lobby and stops at the Coffee Express counter, waiting with a sense of urgency that rivals my most caffeine-crazed customers. Even on the days when she is in a rush for her elevator ride, she never skips her latte ritual. I’m not sure I will ever under...

15 likes 7 comments 7
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