Tuesday, 19 May 2009

Writing Prompt / Story Starter 1

"What is it?" said James.

Paul said nothing, just carried on staring at the pale thing in the sandbox, poking it with the stick of bamboo he'd stolen from Mr Burchielli's garden only an hour ago, when everything had been normal.

"I don't think it's anything," said Angela. "I mean, it doesn't look like anything. Not really."

"Well, it has to be something," said James. "It can't be nothing. Can it?"

"Whatever it is," said Paul, still staring, still poking, "I think it's bleeding."

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