I'm gonna press the prompt button, then try to write for 20 minutes and post the results, so I make no promises it will be any good, but i will be writing again...
This is what it came up with: Write about your favourite cereal.
The fierce screech of the alarm clock sounded for all of three seconds before my hand came down on the snooze. Warm in bed I pulled my arm back under the duvet. I knew I shouldn’t have left the windows open, the forecast had been for storms and a cold night, but when I went to sleep last night the air had been sticky and warm. I was certain I’d fallen asleep on top of the covers, well as certain as you can be about that kind of thing, but now I was bundled in them as tightly as butterfly in its cocoon. No metamorphosis had happened during the night though; I still felt tired, my eyes felt gritty and if I had wings they’d gone numb from me lying on them all night.
I lay looking at the blurred numbers of the alarm clock, I knew they read 6.30, but even less than an arms length away I couldn’t read them without my glasses.
6.30, I should really be getting up and getting dressed, I should really be getting some breakfast, taking a shower. Unless I’ve been having some particularly erotic dreams; I should be going to the toilet. It’s warm under here though and there’s a precious few minutes before the snooze ends and I really have to get up.
I’m just slipping back into a dream, something about a day at work and some serious strangeness in the office when the alarm kicks in again. It really is the most horrible way to start a day. I flick the alarm to off, throw back the duvet and groan at the chill in the air. I get dressed, annoyed when I realise I don’t have a fresh pair of trousers and end up wearing yesterdays. A quick trip to the bathroom for my morning ablutions and I’m at the PC checking the progress of the TV series I’m downloading and scanning my email for anything over than spam. 68% done. Three phishing scams telling me I’ve won millions, four more marketing adverts inviting me to check my credit, buy a new TV, take a loan and get some insurance. One genuine message; a receipt from iTunes.
Into the kitchen for breakfast before I head out to catch my bus. I’d really like a fried egg and bacon sandwich, a little rosemary with the bacon and a squirt of Heinz ketchup; warm, messy and just the right amount to keep me going till lunch. I pour cornflakes into a bowl. I don’t have time to fry anything today plus I’m fairly sure there’s no bacon in the fridge. Kellogg’s original cereal, a simple choice but my favourite, come to that the only cereal I’ll eat. I grab the milk and start hunting for a spoon before I pour it, there’s nothing worse than soggy cornflakes after all. I manage to find the right spoon, the one that’s just the right shape to hold a mouthful of flakes but no more, shallow enough to get the right amount of milk, thin enough not to feel like I’ve got too much metal in my mouth and the right width to be comfortable. The spoon makes all the difference to me, wrong spoon and cereal feels awkward and wrong, the right spoon and cereal’s nearly as good as that sandwich.
